WARNING: This chapter contains sexual content. Only readers 18 and above are allowed. Reader discretion is advised.
Sandra stumbled into her hotel room and immediately grabbed a bottle of water, chugging it down. It was a mistake; she felt sicker. Without realizing it, she failed to completely close her hotel room door. She rushed into the bathroom, emptying her stomach into the toilet bowl. After there was nothing left to vomit, feeling utterly gross, she stripped off her clothes and stepped into a quick shower, hoping to sober up.
Feeling somewhat better, she lay in bed. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she felt an intense desire for a man's touch, to be caressed and held. She chuckled with self-deprecation, murmuring to herself, "You're a withered, thirsty plant, Sandra." Closing her eyes, she drifted off to sleep, hoping a handsome man would visit her in her dreams.
After what felt like an eternity, Roland finally reached the 13th floor. His vision was blurring, but with effort, he scanned the door numbers, searching for room 1308. When he found it, the door was already slightly ajar; he pushed it open without a second thought.
Too disoriented to care, he headed straight for a cold shower. It brought some clarity back, easing the pain. Roland quickly messaged Andreas, telling him not to come, just to pick him up in the morning.
Still feeling discomfort, Roland turned off the lights and lay down. The moment his body touched the bed, he felt something brush against his legs. Lifting the blanket, he was shocked to see a naked woman lying there.
Just like that, the cold shower he'd taken seemed futile as the pain in his lower body flared up again. His hands shook, his arousal undeniable.
The beast within him surged, ready to take control. Justifying his next actions, he thought, 'You've delivered yourself to me, lady.'
In her sleepy state, Sandra felt a hand on her waist, caressing her thighs. 'I'm having a very vivid dream,' she thought, responding by clutching the man's nape with her hands. The kisses and touches felt so real, igniting a burning sexual desire within her. She opened her eyes lazily, seeing the silhouette of a handsome man above her. 'Yes, this is definitely a dream,' she concluded.
Roland felt the woman beneath him respond, igniting his desire even more. He sucked on her perfectly shaped, delicate breasts. Her heavy breathing and moans spurred him on as he teased her between her legs, slowly inserting a finger.
She arched her back in pleasure, which only made him harder, driving him to the edge of madness. Even if it was the drug, he knew that if he were repulsed by her, no substance could compel him to touch her.
Sandra, caught in her dreamland, pulled at his hair in intense pleasure, thinking this was the sweetest dream she'd ever had. She didn't want to wake up.
But Roland couldn't hold back any longer. He needed to claim her. As he began to enter her, he cursed under his breath, "F*ck, she's a virgin?"
The sharp pain jolted Sandra, her eyes snapping open. The pain was too real; she was awake. Shock and horror overwhelmed her in the dark room, where she could only make out the man's silhouette and the sharp outline of his head. Shaking with fear, she shouted, "Who are you?" She tried to push him away with all her might, but his muscular body didn't budge.
Tears streamed down her face as he continued to penetrate her slowly, each movement feeling like it was tearing her apart.
"Please, stop, I'm begging you," she cried, but the man seemed deaf to her pleas.
Roland heard her cries and felt her tears, but it only fueled his desire further. He pried her open slowly but surely. Her whimpers and cries made the beast within him go berserk, driving him to lose control even more.
Roland lost the last shred of rationality he possessed. He grabbed her hands, which had been trying to push him away, and pinned them above her head with one of his own. With his other hand, he lifted one of her legs, opening her up more to him.
Sandra felt pain and pleasure alternating in her consciousness. She was begging him to stop, but she couldn't understand why her body wasn't responding as she wanted. Was it the alcohol? Her sweet dream was morphing into a pleasurable nightmare.
Sandra couldn't handle the man anymore; she felt like she was being torn apart. He was becoming more aggressive, pounding into her even as she cried and begged. She stopped begging and held back the moan threatening to escape her lips. A few moments later, the man stopped. She thought it was finally over when he suddenly flipped her over, positioning her on her knees.
Her head was pushed down into the bed, and he started penetrating her again from behind. A surge of pain and pleasure overwhelmed her sanity. Roland noticed she was no longer fighting back and removed his hand from pinning her head to the bed. He began to play with her private parts while continuing to thrust into her, quicker and more aggressively than before.
Sandra felt herself reaching her climax as she twitched her hips. In the midst of her orgasm, she heard the man grunt as he reached his own climax. Roland released her and carelessly lay down on the bed, all his energy seemingly drained from him, falling asleep as if nothing had happened.
Sandra lay curled up on the bed, hugging her knees, shaking. Once she realized he was asleep, she slowly got up from the bed. With her legs trembling and her hips and the area between her legs aching, she put on her clothes and walked out of the hotel room. Now completely sober, she hailed a taxi and went straight home, where she took a long, hot shower, trying to wash away what had transpired in the hotel.
She knew what had happened was beyond her self-respect and principles, yet she hated that a part of her recognized she was an adult, and one-night stands happened. She felt violated, but she despised that her body had felt pleasure from it. Her mind was lost, and she loathed it.
"Should I just forget about it?" she thought. She would never see the man again anyway. The events in the hotel played through her mind over and over again until she succumbed to sleep.
...
In the morning, Roland was woken up by sunlight seeping through the hotel room window. He squinted his eyes and suddenly sat up quickly as memories of the previous night began to resurface in his mind.
He looked at the side of the bed and found it empty. "Tsk, a wildcat sneaks into my room and runs off after taking advantage of me?" he snickered to himself out loud.
Although his head was pounding, he held his forehead, and the more he remembered, the angrier he felt.
At that moment, his phone suddenly rang. Andreas spoke the instant he picked up. "Mr. Fleming, where are you?"
"Where else? In the hotel room you booked for me," he answered lazily.
At that moment, Andreas stood dumbfounded in the middle of room 1308. "Mr. Fleming, I'm currently standing inside your hotel room, and I'm pretty sure you're not here."
Roland, confused and about to get angry, realized something and quickly got up. He put on a robe, opened the door, and checked the room number. 1306...
"F*ck!" he cursed silently. No wonder there was a wildcat last night; he was the predator who had devoured his prey. "Come to room 1306," he told Andreas and quickly dropped the call.
Andreas was about to ask more but choked on his words when he heard the dial tone. With a sigh, he walked out of the room and headed to room 1306.
In Room 1306
Sitting on the sofa across from Roland, whose face looked like he'd emerged from the depths of hell, Andreas dared not make a sound. He sat there quietly, waiting for his boss to speak.
"Someone drugged me last night," Roland announced, making Andreas's jaw nearly drop to the floor. Before Andreas could respond, Roland continued, "Find out who it was, and find out the wildcat who booked this hotel room last night."
'Wildcat?' Before Andreas could utter a word, his boss suddenly got up and walked out, leaving Andreas with no choice but to follow.
Sandra was woken by the commotion at her condominium door. Loud knocking could be heard along with Rayna's voice calling out, "Sandra! Are you there?" BANG! BANG!
With a splitting headache, she dragged her sore body towards the door and opened it.
"What's the fuss?" she asked her friend and assistant, Rayna, with clear annoyance.
Rayna finally heaved a sigh of relief upon seeing her. "You didn't come to the office today, and you weren't answering your calls, so I got worried," Rayna chided.
Sandra glanced at the wall clock, noticing it was already one in the afternoon.
"I thought you might be sick, so I brought some porridge and medicine," Rayna said, walking into the kitchen to prepare the food.
Sandra continued to sit on the sofa in a daze until Rayna approached and touched her forehead, pulling her out of her trance.
"Is everything okay? Did something happen last night?" Rayna asked, her voice full of concern.
Sandra shook her head and stood up to walk to the kitchen. Feeling hungry, she started eating. "I'm taking today off," she declared after a couple of bites.
Rayna nodded in understanding. "Alright, I'll take care of everything today," she assured Sandra.