Chapter 392: Room Service
Chapter 392: Room Service
Heena lay submerged in the grand marble bathtub of the Presidential Suite, warm water gently lapping around her body.
The tub was enormous, easily big enough for three or four people, its smooth edges gleaming under soft golden lights.
She rested her head against the cushioned pillow, eyes closed, a rare expression of deep peace softening her beautiful features.
In the quiet luxury surrounding her, her mind wandered freely.
Just a few hours ago she had been preparing for another lonely evening in her ordinary apartment. Now she was here, naked in the most prestigious suite of a luxirious hotel, with a man she had once seen only as her young student.
A boy. Yet in this short time, that same boy had devilishly torn down every wall she had built, making her cum harder and louder than she had ever experienced in her life.
He had teased her shamelessly about her husband being right next door, and instead of shame crushing her, the risk had only made her burn hotter.
She remembered the way his tongue had moved between her thighs on the balcony... slow, confident, relentless. Heena instinctively clenched her legs together under the water, still able to feel the ghost of his mouth on her most sensitive places.
Her hand drifted upward, cupping one of her full breasts. She smiled softly. Alex clearly loved them; the way he had gripped and kissed them earlier had left no doubt.
Her pussy twitched with need. Heena slowly slid her hand down between her legs, fingers gently cupping her still-sensitive folds.
"Mmm!" A soft, breathy whisper escaped her lips as she caressed herself.
"Don’t worry... you’ll be taken care of tonight," she murmured tenderly, almost like she was soothing herself. "With his big, fat cock."
The moment the words left her mouth, the memory of Alex’s thick length flooded her mind... how heavy and hard it had felt in her hand, the impressive girth that had made her eyes widen earlier.
She shivered violently in the warm water, her thighs pressing together as a fresh wave of heat rushed through her core.
"How on earth am I going to take all of that inside me?" The thought was both frightening and deliciously thrilling.
Then her thoughts drifted to Howard. Her Husband.
"You deserve this," she murmured quietly, her voice calm rather than angry. It wasn’t venomous, just a simple, weary truth.
That bastard had ignored her needs for so long, coming home later and later, treating her like an afterthought. If he was already so fond of being with other women, then so be it.
Strangely, the knowledge that he was so close only added to the guilty thrill running through her veins.
"What if Alex takes me again on the balcony?"
"Could I really stop myself from screaming? What if Howard recognizes my voice?"
The questions made her heart race, but she didn’t care enough to stop. The risk felt intoxicating now.
Heena sighed. She had already spent too long in the bath. Alex must be waiting.
And that girl... Lydia... would probably be arriving with their dinner any minute.
She needed to hurry.
With one last deep breath, Heena rose from the luxurious tub, water cascading down her beautiful curves. She reached for a thick white towel, wrapping it around herself as she stepped out, her skin flushed and glowing.
***
Down in the bustling service kitchen, Lydia paced restlessly near the pass, her eyes fixed on the chefs plating the final dishes.
The rich aroma filled the air, but she barely noticed.
Her fingers tapped impatiently against her arm as she checked the time again.
"Is it done yet?" she asked sharply, unable to hide the edge in her voice.
One of the line cooks glanced up, wiping sweat from his brow. "Two minutes, Miss Lydia. Just finishing the garnish."
She exhaled through her nose and turned to a young staff girl standing nearby, folding napkins with quick hands.
"Where’s the manager today?" Lydia asked suddenly, lowering her voice. "I haven’t seen her since the evening shift started. It’s strange... especially with both the Presidential Suite and the Executive Suite booked together tonight."
The girl shrugged, not looking up from her work. "Who knows? I just heard she’s waiting for some important guest and has no time for anything else. It’s only a rumor though... I don’t know much."
Lydia’s lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. ’Another guest? Good. That means the old bitch won’t be hovering around to ruin my chance.’
She had been waiting for a night like this... a rare window where the manager was distracted and the most luxurious suites were occupied by high-profile guests. No interruptions. No one watching her every move.
Suddenly, the head chef called out, "Order for Presidential Suite is ready!"
Lydia’s eyes lit up. She moved quickly, taking full control of the elegant silver trolley. She double-checked every detail with a critical eye. Only when she was completely satisfied did she begin wheeling the elegant trolley toward the service elevator.
Her pulse quickened with every step. This time, she wasn’t just delivering dinner.
This time, she had every intention of making an impression.
The ride up to the top floor felt electric. Her mind raced with possibilities: a lingering smile from the young, powerful guest, a dismissive glance from his older companion, maybe even an opening to test the waters.
The elevator chimed softly as it reached the Presidential floor. Lydia pushed the gleaming trolley down the wide, carpeted corridor. The wheels glided almost silently over the thick luxury carpeting.
She stopped outside the grand double doors of the suite, took one steadying breath, and pressed the doorbell with a perfectly manicured finger.
The soft chime of the doorbell echoed through the Presidential Suite.
Lydia stood outside the grand double doors, her heart beating faster than usual. She smoothed her uniform one last time, adjusted the silver service trolley, and fixed her most polished, inviting smile.
The moment the door opened, her smile vanished instantly, replaced by pure shock.
Alex stood there wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped low around his waist. Droplets of water still clung to his toned chest and shoulders, slowly tracing down the defined lines of his abs. His hair was damp and slightly tousled... the picture of casual, effortless dominance.
For a split second, Lydia forgot how to speak.
’Oh my god... Oh my god...’
She had handled plenty of wealthy, handsome guests before... businessmen, celebrities. But this man was something else entirely. The raw masculinity radiating from him hit her like a wave.
For the first time in years, it wasn’t just about comfort, money, or status. This was pure, visceral desire. Her mouth actually watered as her gaze involuntarily dropped to the sharp V-line disappearing beneath the towel.
She snapped back to reality when Alex spoke, his voice deep and relaxed.
"Hello," he said with a small, knowing smile, as if he could read every filthy thought crossing her mind.
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