UndeniablyHisE (6 page)

I kissed her before I could catch my intent, every point of contact gentling as I slid deeper into her. I slid out just as slow, her muscles locking around the fat head to keep part of me trapped inside. Finding the other side of her neck, I licked a line up to her ear as I pumped a small circle that kept the tip dragging side to side. The way Mia's entire body shivered beneath me, I knew I had found a sweet spot.

I memorized it, explored its contours so I could make her shiver like that the next time. Sinking all the way in, I whispered in her ear. "You've never been this satisfied."

It wasn't a boast -- she sobbed and clenched at each retreat of my cock.

"Shhh…baby." I kissed the side of her mouth, evading her attempt to turn into the kiss. Such intimacies would have to wait until I better felt I could trust her. Our next joining, after I had watched the tape, studied each reaction without the fog of want crowding my brain as it did at that second. Then I could let her kiss me.

Now, however, I needed to control her. I forced my hand down to her mound, squeezing and rubbing that hard pearl under the hood of the clit until Mia gasped for air. Rocking against her, I offered another teasing kiss at the corner of her lips. "You're holding me so tightly, Mia."

Straightening, I grabbed a handful of flesh at each hip, the pace of my thrusts increasing. Her cunt milked my cock, the spasms wracking her muscles feeling like a thousand fingers stroking and tugging at the shaft. I exhaled in a sudden rush, my muscles moving in slow motion. I sucked more air in, fueling a deep thrust inside her. I pulled back in the same glacial retreat, every fiber in my body aching with the need to come.

Shaking my head, I tried to deny how much her body and response affected me. If I looked at her face, I would be undone, lost. So I stared at the point our bodies met, my teeth pinning my bottom lip in place so I couldn't tell her again how beautiful she was or how fucking good she felt.

The sight of her moving with me, the flex of her cheeks, the flush of her skin sank like hooks into my chest. I closed my eyes, trying to squeeze a few more minutes inside her before I surrendered. Another shake of my head and I plunged in deep, knowing I had lost the game, if only for the moment.

Opening my eyes, I caught Mia watching me. I felt another tug on the barbs she had sunk into my skin. I stared back, looking for some sign she felt the connection between us as deeply as I did. I couldn't tell, so I retreated to that sweet spot just inside the opening of her cunt and teased it over and over until her eyes rolled back in her head.

She came, her entire cunt knotting around my cock, squeezing and milking it until I couldn't help but come with her. Even after the last jet left me, I stroked in and out of her, savoring the way her body continued to move.

And then she moaned, the sound so needy for more that I knew I couldn't hear another escape her throat and still deny her needs. If she moaned like that again, she was mine and I wouldn't let her return to the shabby apartment she called home. Another entreating moan while my cock was in her and I would bind her to my bed before the night was through.

I pulled out quickly before I could tease another such sound from her and quick marched to my private bathroom. Knowing she might not move until I returned to give her permission, I hurriedly splashed cold water in my face.

Really, I needed to dip my dick in ice water. It remained hard with the thought of her, of the way she moved and groaned. Growling, I left the washroom and collected her clothes, dropping them on my desk before I collapsed into my chair.

I waved my hand at her. "You can't leave looking like this. Use my bathroom to clean up."

She rose and walked stiff-backed from my desk to disappear behind the door. The second I heard the lock click, I buried my face in my hands, a knot of worry tying and twisting inside my gut as I wondered if I had misjudged how best to handle the night's parting.

In her mind, I had just fucked her then dismissed her. God only knew what she was thinking as she cleaned up on the other side of that door. I opened the side drawer on my desk, one hand fumbling with a lock box as the other searched for an envelope. I counted out ten thousand or so in petty cash and shoved it inside the envelope.

No apology would be forthcoming. She was submissive, deeply so. Not all subs respected an admission of fault from their dominants. Others respected it, but felt less secure in their dominants' hands. And still others would eventually walk out on a man who couldn't admit when he was wrong. I needed time to learn which kind of sub Mia was.

Seeing her open the door, a mutinous glint in her eye, I pushed the envelope forward. "Take this."

The money inside wasn't an apology, it was an opportunity -- a request for her to stay on in a new role.

Watching her approach the desk, her hands curling around her stomach as if I had just punched her, I realized she might not view the gesture in the same light. She stopped and eyed the envelope, my heart knocking harder in my chest with each passing second. Dismissing the offering with a shake of her head, she spun on her heels and headed for the door.

"They're locked, Mia. Take the envelope." I grimaced at the order I had just given and the panic I felt. I needed her to know what the money was for, not growl at her to take it no matter what.

Reaching the door, she didn't look back at me, just issued her own command. "Unlock these and don't treat me like any more of a whore than you already have."

Right, I had royally fucked up. Standing, I took the envelope with me. Reaching across her, I pressed it against the door and thumbed the edge of the package. I brought my body close to hers, trying to remind her of the pleasure she had been bathed in just a few minutes before. Bringing my mouth close to her ear, I took a slow breath in to steady my nerves. "Just what do you think this is for?"

Her spine got a little stiffer in answer.

She was wrong. I had paid plenty of whores in the past for the convenience and skill of their of their bodies. I could have serviced myself just as well with my hand. This was far different. After one month of walking into the office to find Mia lifting her head to smile at me, I didn't want it to stop.

Not yet, at least.

"Janice is retiring at the end of the week, won't be in again until her good-bye party." I pressed my face against her hair and breathed in the sweet bite of citrus contained in the strands. "You need a better wardrobe if you're going to fill her position. This is an advance on your new salary."

Her head swiveled in my direction. I should have been studying her eyes, but her mouth, so near my own, claimed my attention. Feeling my breath reflected back on my lips, I forced myself not to grab and pull Mia that last quarter inch until we touched.

I had made my offer -- my cloaked mea culpa. She needed to respond.

"Are you serious?"

Hearing the incredulity that laced her voice, I nodded, the gesture slow and deliberate. Taking her hand, I wrapped her fingers around the envelope. "You'll run the office and travel with me on the same trips Janice would attend."

The thought flashed through my mind that I would need to book a lot more trips and soon. Grabbing her hip, I turned her until we fully faced one another then gestured at the envelope. "If you're lying to me, you better take this and run."

Feeling her grip on the money tighten, I closed the last bit of space between us and forced her flat against the door. I captured her face, my finger pressing on her chin to force the soft lips open. I tilted my head, wanting to kiss her but brushing my cheek against hers instead as I whispered in her ear.

"Know this -- if you run, there's no place on earth I won't find you."

Mia

Not done questioning you

My heart kickstarting into high gear, I
looked for the third time between the notecard in my shaking hand and the black silk box on my bed. The package had arrived ten minutes before by a private courier in a dark blue van that bore no identifying mark beyond its license plate.

I didn't need a signature to know my employer, Collin Stark, had sent the "gift."

Letting the card fall onto the bedspread, I reached into the box and fingered the surface layer of fabric. Breathtaking even to the touch, the top outfit had been cut from a pale gold silk chiffon. I lifted it from the box and walked to the mirror. It looked like something a queen would wear on her honeymoon, rather than the frumpy, oversized junior secretary to the CEO of Stark International.

Senior secretary
, I mentally corrected. Collin Stark had promoted me Tuesday after fucking me senseless and informing me that Janice Green, his then current senior secretary, would be retiring on Friday.

Trying to forget the events of the last week and my sexual capitulation in Stark's office, I held the fabric against my jeans and sweatshirt. I shook my head, my ash-brown hair softly rustling against the thick fleece of my top.

I couldn't imagine stuffing my oversized body into the delicate material. Almost floor length, the dressing gown hooked in the front where a drawstring ran just beneath the breast line to ensure the soft, malleable flesh contained would be held upright. Amber-colored crystals flowed like butterfly wings above and below the drawstring, the cut of the gown such that the panels didn't join to conceal the flesh beneath. More revealing, the semi-sheer fabric would expose the darker coloring of my nipples.

Numb, I slowly returned to the bed and mechanically removed the matching thong underwear from the box, the gold stark against the short black Chantilly lace robe beneath it. I removed the remaining outfits one by one and placed them on the bed. Half-shelf bras and matching panties, corsets and, beneath everything, four pairs of high heeled shoes, each a perfect match to one of the ensembles within the box.

Overwhelmed, I sank to the floor.

Two partially packed suitcases crowded the area next to me. I had spent the day preparing for a flight to Dubai, my first business trip with Collin. The plane departed tomorrow, Sunday. He had given me packing orders after Janice's retirement party on Friday.

That short notice had followed three long days of being every bit as invisible to Stark as I had been the first six months working within his company. Even during the moments we were completely alone in his office, he had remained a blank sheet of steel. A dozen plus times his dark blue eyes had met mine, no heat or emotion evident in their mysterious depths. Every accidental brush of flesh had been just that -- accidental.

At least I hadn't intentionally touched him. The feelings he evoked within me and the acts I had consented to within his office terrified me. I was only slightly less frightened of Collin. And I certainly didn't think Collin had intentionally touched me in the days that followed my "interrogation" in his office. The contact never registered on his face nor in his voice. His hard body and gaze never softened.

Now this delivery!

I lightly bounced the back of my skull against the silk box that had arrived filled with clothes meant for the bedroom and designed to be quickly stripped from the wearer's body. All this from a man that had shown no interest in me before or after that single incident.

Growling, I pushed up from the floor and headed into the kitchen. I dropped a tea bag in a mug of water, set the cook time on the microwave and slipped into the bathroom. Turning on the tub's faucet, I let the hot water slowly build before closing the drain and squirting in some bath foam.

As the tub filled, I finished making my tea then stripped and slid into the hot, hot water.

Fuck, yes, just the thing I needed.

Sinking further into the water, I closed my eyes. Beneath the covering of foam, my hands roamed my thick body. Camouflaged by bubbles and nearly weightless in the deep tub, I could pretend Collin truly found me desirable and wasn't instead playing some Machiavellian game to expose me as a spy.

I snorted at the concept. Didn't Stark know -- real spies don't have curves, at least not the kind I come equipped with.

Holding my breath, I sank below the water line. Air bubbled through my heavy, dark curls until my hair pooled against the porcelain bottom. Naked, warm and relaxed, with a bed covered in lingerie, I couldn't avoid dwelling on how Stark had taken me in his office.

I folded my hands atop my mound, my fingers surreptitiously parting my labia in search of my clit. I slipped a finger lower, the tip invading my cunt. How many times had Stark filled that wet, swollen hole?

In the corner with his fingers.

Again on the couch between the rough smacks to my ass.

Finally, with my chest flat against his desk, his cock taking me from behind, the shaft and head so big they stretched me until I was lost in a delirium between pain and pleasure.

Gasping for air, I broke the surface of water and bubbles, my body twitching from the orgasm my fingers and memories had quickly ripped from my body.

Trembling, I opened the drain and concentrated on the sudden vortex of water and bubbles created by the act. My emotions swirled with them, spinning more slowly at the top of the inverted cone, accelerating as they narrowed to the wild, dancing pulse of my clit.

Short, measured bursts of sound polluted the air as I fought to avoid hyperventilating. I shook my head, wet hair slapping my flesh in a punishing self-flagellation that did nothing to calm my frenzied body or mind.

In a little more than twelve hours, I would be trapped on a plane for Dubai with a man who had mastered my body in a single encounter without surrendering even a gram of his soul.

I was fucked -- badly -- and there wasn't anything I could, or wanted, to do to escape.

********************

Collin's interrogation began as soon as I stepped onto his private jet. He directed a member of the cabin crew to place my bags on the long meeting table that divided the cabin and leave. Once we were alone, he unzipped the bags and began to explore their contents.

"What are you doing?" The relief I had felt on learning that no one at the airport would paw through the revealing clothes inside the luggage evaporated as he fingered the gold chiffon robe. When he didn't answer or stop his search, I folded my arms across my breasts and glared at him. "I read through the list of prohibited items three times, there won't be any issue with the Dubai customs."

His gaze lifted at my challenge, a cold blue fire shimmering at the surface. "I have my own security concerns, Mia."

I rolled my lips, closed my eyes. How the hell would I successfully deflect another attempt to sexually dominate me if I couldn't manage my own temper -- or any of my other passions. I licked my lips, trying to cool the heat that had erupted at the way he touched the edge of the robe.

"Don't lick those luscious lips unless you're ready to suck my cock."

My eyes flew open. My gaze jerked from Stark to the door the crew member had disappeared behind. Turning abruptly, I took a seat on the dark red couch that lined the curved wall of the plane, my arms protectively wrapped around my chest and shoulders and my legs tightly crossed.

A few more minutes passed as Stark searched my bags then paged a steward to stow them. Taking a seat beside me, he opened his briefcase and ordered an espresso.

"Miss James?" the steward asked after a few seconds of silence.

I looked up and realized he was waiting for my drink request. Really, I wanted a very large shot of Scotch or something equally numbing. Maybe an entire cask of the dark, burning liquid to take my mind off my pussy and the man sitting beside me.

"Water, please." I waited for the steward to depart then scooted to my left, away from Stark.

His hand came down on my thigh, the soft dig of his fingers silently directing my return. The instant I complied, he removed his hand and resumed studying the papers he had pulled from his briefcase.

I rolled my eyes, the gesture unnoticed. Stark didn't actually want me next to him, he just wanted to make me uncomfortable. His entire plan started with the delivery of the clothes yesterday and their examination just a few seconds before. He intended me to twist internally at the end of a very long rope of my own making as he continued to ignore me for the duration of the flight.

Fine. I had passed a long night without sleep. He could play his game. I would nap.

Or at least try.

With my eyes shut, I heard papers shuffling in Stark's hands, the sound of coffee beans grinding and the jet's engines as the pilot prepared to taxi. The steward returned with the water and espresso, the plane beginning to move.

Finding Stark absorbed in his papers, the steward smiled brightly at me. "We're third for take off. Will there be anything else before we're in air?"

Stark answered with a distracted "no." I shook my head, unnerved by the certainty that the young man would disappear for the next twenty minutes or more, leaving me alone with the ruthless enigma beside me.

Sipping my water to keep the glass from shaking, I watched the steward go. As soon as the cabin door closed, Stark removed the glass from my hand and placed it in the cup holder on the shelf built into the back of the couch.

"Remove your panties."

My breathing stopped, the blood thickening inside my veins. I looked at the door through which the steward had just departed.

"The crew follows a strict protocol, Mia. As do you."

I rolled my lips between my teeth, trying to work up the will to protest. I wasn't ready to outmaneuver him. Granted, I might never be ready to accomplish such a task, but a few extra minutes or hours of stalling would be a cooling balm to my fractured will.

"I only give fully considered orders." Collin dropped the papers onto the cushion next to him, his voice roughening. "Disobedience is the one luxury I won't give you. Remove the panties, now."

Lungs restarted, my chest began to quickly lift and fall as the chemicals of a fresh panic pumped through me. I hurried to obey as his hand moved toward my knee. I did not want him tearing the panties from me in a repeat of the scene in his office. I might not get a fresh pair before we had to clear customs.

Gripping the sides, I started to push the panties down my hips. Feeling the bottom panel of material stick to my wet flesh, I blushed. Even his brusque indifference wasn't enough to temper my arousal. Closing my eyes, I pushed the fabric over my knees and down my calves, blindly lifting my legs.

Holding the fabric away from me, my hands shook. I couldn't leave the underwear out on display and my bags had been removed from the cabin.

"Hand them to me."

Without opening my eyes, I thrust the cloth in his direction.

"Observe." He took the underwear from me, his one-word command requiring that I watch.

I looked at him unfold the fabric and brush his thumb back and forth over the sodden patch, the liquid thin and transparent as it coated his skin. Refolding the material, he put the panties in the interior pocket of his business jacket.

"Lift your skirt."

I did.

"Higher. You know what I want to see."

Shutting my eyes again, I raised the skirt all the way up, the fabric bunched against the bottom swell of my rounded stomach.

"Spread your legs."

I parted my thighs, my perineum drawing tight in an attempt to shelter my exposed pussy.

"Since you insist on hiding, you will describe what you see."

That was asking too much -- the command was humiliating.

"Collin..."

"Are my fingers in you?" The cold steel of his voice sank like hooks in my chest.

My breathing hitched and I answered. "No, Mister Stark, they are not."

Opening my eyes, I looked between my spread thighs and began. "White...flesh, black fabric."

Collin growled lightly, a clear warning against additional stalling. Forgetting his earlier threat, I slowly licked my lips. "Dark hair, slick and beading."

His concentration on my lower body and his wrist against my thigh, Collin pinched an outer labia between thumb and index finger and pulled it to the side to assist my description.

"Red," I continued, gasping at the word and his touch. "Swollen...wet..."

A tear ran down my cheek. "Jumping--"

"Yes, it is." He stroked the line of my dancing clit. "What does this drenched, throbbing pussy mean, Mia?"

He wanted me to admit I was aroused. I wouldn't. I lowered my gaze and firmed my jaw, my lips pressing together and pushing slightly forward as the rest of my body tensed. His fingers slid down my sex, two of them entering and curling inside me.

"Say it," he ordered.

I shook my head. He half snorted, the sound twisting and hollow at the base of his throat. His thumb pressed against my clit as the two fingers pushed deeper.

"You had the opportunity to quit, to return the money. You stayed. You got on the plane." The thumb began to grind a slow, oppressive circle against the nodule of flesh tucked under the hood. "Why should I think anything other than you want this. Especially when your pussy is dripping."

The hand teasing me retreated quickly, shooting up to roughly cup my cheek. Fingers wet on my flesh, he carelessly spread my juices while his other hand held my head immobile and he kissed me. His tongue and fingers, slick with my cream, invaded my mouth, sharing the taste of my need between us. He groaned, both hands seizing my head as his lips and tongue warred with mine.

"You've teased me all week with needy looks," he rasped. "Leaving me hard and aching with wanting you."

I managed to shake my head within his firm grip. "You haven't...not objectively."

Smiling at the accusation, he roughly drew my plump body onto his lap. "You'll have to look more carefully, Mia, if you ever want to know me."