Stranger at the Guesthouse – A Midnight Affair
Stranger at the Guesthouse – A Midnight Affair
Category: Unexpected Hookups, One-Night Encounters
Tags: Guesthouse, Stranger, Rough Passion, Erotic Mystery
The Escape
Anaya needed to escape—just for a weekend. Away from office politics, her clingy ex, and the dull routine that dulled her senses. The guesthouse she booked in the hills promised peace, solitude, and silence. But what she got... was sinful chaos at midnight.
The place was charming, old-school, with creaky wooden floors and warm lamps. Only a few rooms were occupied. She was in Room No. 4, and the silence of the mountains wrapped around her like a soft blanket.
Until someone knocked.
The Knock at 12:07 AM
She froze. The wind howled outside. Another knock—louder. “Who is it?” she asked, voice shaky.
“I’m... I’m sorry, I think I’ve lost my keycard. Can I use your landline to call the manager?”
A man’s voice. Deep, polite... and oddly familiar. She cracked the door open.
Tall. Hooded. Unshaven. Wet from the mist. Something about him felt dangerous—but magnetic.
“You can wait here,” she said, surprising herself. “Till someone shows up.”
The Heat Beneath the Cold
She offered him a towel. As he wiped his face, she caught the scent of something intoxicating.
“What perfume is that?” she asked.
“It’s called Noir Flame. You like it?”
[Click here to explore Noir Flame – The Perfume That Changes The Night]
He smiled. And in that moment, the air thickened.
She poured them both some brandy. Their fingers brushed. He noticed her legs—bare under the oversized tee. She noticed his jawline, the way his chest moved under his wet shirt.
“I’m Reyansh,” he said.
“Anaya,” she replied. And before another word could be said, he kissed her.
The Fire Unleashed
It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t gentle. It was hungry, animalistic, fierce.
She was slammed gently against the wooden wardrobe, her moans muffled as his mouth traveled from her lips to her neck, to her shoulder. He lifted her effortlessly, pinning her against the wall, tearing her tee in half.
His hands explored her curves like he was tracing a map he already knew by heart. She wasn’t thinking anymore—just feeling. The cold mountain air only made every inch of her skin more sensitive, more desperate for his touch.
When he finally entered her, it was without warning, without mercy. She gasped. The sound of skin on skin, the creaking of the wooden bed, the rhythmic thud against the wall—it echoed like a chant of lust.
She bit his shoulder. He pulled her hair. She scratched his back. They changed positions, over and over—floor, bed, even the tiny desk. He whispered filth in her ear. She begged for more.
The Stranger’s Secret
As they lay tangled in sheets, breaths heavy and bodies bruised with desire, she asked, “Were you really locked out?”
He grinned.
“No. I saw you check in earlier. I made up the keycard story just to talk to you. Didn’t know it would end like this.”
“You sneaky bastard,” she said, laughing—and then mounted him again.
The Morning After
She woke up alone. The scent of Noir Flame lingered on the pillow. No note. No number. Just one line scribbled on the mirror with her eyeliner:
“Thanks for the madness. – R”
She smiled. Shivered. And whispered to herself, “I’ll never forget that night.”
🔥 Want to Smell Like Him?
The scent that made Anaya weak in the knees? It was Noir Flame – Bold, musky, and magnetic.
© 2025 SpicyRaaz | Story by MASTRAMM | This story is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only.
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