His to Possess Read online

  Teaser

  Book 2 (of 3) in the Smoke & Curves series

  Working for Collin Stark, ex-Army interrogator and Chief Executive Bad Ass of a private military company, plus-size beauty Mia James has placed her body on the line to prove she isn't a corporate spy. But when her past resurfaces at a global security conference, the events that transpire may be more than her heart or Collin's trust can survive.

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  Copyright © 2013 by Christa Wick

  Cover art © DiamantisSeitanidis@dreamstime. All persons and entities are fictional. Not for sale to libraries. No lending outside distributor (e.g. Kindle/Nook) terms of service. Otherwise, re-distributing, lending, or reading this e-book without first purchasing a license to do so is illegal and subject to heavy fines. (SC2-2)

  His to Possess

  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 marks 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 took the remaining outfits out 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. I'd been given packing orders after Janice's retirement party on Friday.

  That short notice 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 had 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 his "interrogation" of me in his office. The contact never registered on his face nor in his voice. His hard body and gaze never softened.

  Now this -- 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 one 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.

  Slipping lower 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 into 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 both 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 deflect another attempt to sexually dominate me if I couldn't manage my own temper! Or my passions -- I licked my lips, trying to cool the heat that had erupted at the way he touched the edge of the gold robe.

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

 
; 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 cunt 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 strong 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.

  At least he couldn't try anything until we reached our flight altitude!

  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 the steward had just left through.

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

  I rolled my lips, 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 orders I have fully thought out." Collin dropped the papers onto the cushion next to him. "Disobedience is the only luxury I won't give you. Remove the panties, now."

  Lungs restarted, my chest began to quickly lift and fall as fresh panic pumped inside me. His hand moved toward my knee and I hurried to obey. I did not want him tearing the panties from me as he had that first time 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.

  I wondered what to do with them. I couldn't leave them out on display and my bags had been removed from the cabin.

  "Hand them to me."

  Without opening my eyes, I held 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 a thumb across the sodden patch, the liquid thin and transparent. 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, warning me against additional stalling. I slowly licked my lips, forgetting his earlier threat. "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.

  "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 those 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."

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

  Did I? Want to know him, that is.

  He didn't give me time to think the question through. He pulled my thighs apart, his mouth buried against my neck as he manipulated my clit. His words burned the sensitive flesh of my throat as he laid out the next fifteen hours of the flight.

  "There's a bed just beyond that panel," he threatened. "A dresser with silk ties and toys, plugs and vibrators for your snug pussy and tight ass. Clamps for your thick nipples."

  His fingers penetrated me in a fat triangle, my cream dense and slurping as he drove in and out of the swollen flesh of my cunt. His teeth dented the skin and muscles of my shoulder, pinning me in place.

  "No," I whispered, fighting my release. I tried to shrink from him, even as my hips and ass began to dance, pumping the air in hard circles.

  "Yes." He lifted his mouth from my shoulder and bit at the lobe of my ear. "I'm going to fuck every hole you have, baby. And when I can't fuck you, I have something to lock that sweet pussy and ass up because they are mine and mine alone."

  His fingers left me once more to seize my chin. "You are mine -- understand?"

  Speechless, I couldn't answer, could only
blink as tears ran down my cheeks and I continued to dance my ass against his lap, my cunt squeezing at the void he had left.

  He smiled wide, his gaze wild and nostrils flaring. A little shake of his head and he released me. "I've been giving you entirely too much pleasure, Mia. On your knees."

  For once, I didn't hesitate at his command. The day he had taken me, Collin had remained in control the entire time, only surrendering to his release for a few short seconds during which he continued to master my body and emotions. I wanted to reduce him to that same state and, if there was one thing my prior lovers had taken particular delight in, it was my mouth.

  The words of my last lover, my "closet fiancé" Glenn, bubbled like acid in my mind.

  Fat girls know how to eat cock like no other woman can.

  Tears already streaking my face, I let a few more slip out at the memory as I smoothed my hand up Collin's thigh. Vision blurring, I slowly unbuckled his dress pants.

  He leaned forward, cupping the underside of my chin and tilting my head backwards until my neck strained. Blindly, I continued to free his cock as his lips met mine. His tongue penetrated to swirl inside my mouth as I slowly brought his zipper down.

  I tugged at his silky briefs and the side of his dress pants. His torso and hips lifted, his firm grip around my chin lifting me with him. As soon as the waist line of his clothing was below his balls, I wrapped my hand around his cock and broke the kiss.

  He shifted, legs angling to force the clothing past his knees and down his calves as he opened to me. Stroking him, I studied the thick veins on his shaft, the fat head. Bringing my mouth to it, I trailed my fingers lightly down to the heavy balls with their covering of dark hair.

  We had fifteen hours to fill. I wanted to spend the first five holding him inside my mouth, licking and swallowing the big cock until I passed out from the needy contractions that already had my cunt swollen and sore.

  I circled the head with the tip of my tongue, tasting the saltiness that had built since his morning shower. He groaned, his hands threading through my hair to hold me in a possessive grip.