UndeniablyHisE Page 6

  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."

  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 his plan for 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 and force me to look at him. "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.

  "Look at me while you take my cock."

  A shiver rolled through me at the rough command. I let my gaze meet his but my tongue didn't leave the head. I explored the narrow slit at its top. Still looking at his face, I pressed my lips against the pinnacle and slowly worked just the head into my mouth. An almost imperceptible lift of his right brow signaled his appreciation.

  I retreated, willfully looking away from his eyes to study the object of my careful ministrations. I trailed my tongue down the shaft to flick at the double handful of balls with their skin stretched tight. I tilted my head so that my cheek pressed against his thigh and then I started to suck one testicle into my mouth. His grip on my hair tightened as his stomach clenched.

  Could I conquer him this way -- as completely as he had conquered me? Could I make him lose control, could I turn his gaze needy?

  "Stop." His hands left my hair to push lightly at my shoulders.

  Slowly, I complied as I stared up at him.

  "You like sucking cock a little too much, Mia."

  "I like eating i
t," I replied. My ex-lover had been right not to call it sucking. I would swallow as much of Stark's thick, hard member down my throat as I could, the strong, narrow channel of my throat gripping him in ways no other part of a woman's body could. I would nibble, lick, and gently chew until pre-cum oozed from him and his whole being shook.

  "Still, it wasn't my intent to give you so much pleasure. How will you ever learn total obedience if all I do is please you?"

  I can only guess at the look that crossed my face. I knew what I was thinking: Stark had only physically pleased me. My total obedience, if it ever came, would cost him more than physical pleasure. It would cost him his emotion, tight hugs telling me he never wanted to release me. It would cost his tears and fretful kisses -- his fear of losing me.

  He would give me none of those, I knew. Maybe he would for some woman, some day, but not someone who had failed so miserably her whole life long, someone who couldn't succeed at big things like the job she had worked so hard to get, let alone manage to control her own body, the inches around her waist climbing year over year.

  Maybe all of that crossed my face, maybe none of it. Whatever did, it silenced him. Stopped him cold.

  Standing, he pulled his slacks up. His hand dipped into his jacket pocket to retrieve my panties and place them on the couch before he disappeared behind the panel that held the bedroom.

  He returned ten minutes later, scooping his briefcase up and taking it to the long conference table that ran down the center of the room.

  Fifteen hours later, we landed in Dubai.

  ********************

  Stark dumped me at the Al Bustan Rotana hotel in an ambassador suite filled with unfamiliar luggage that suddenly belonged to me. From my original packing efforts, only the lingerie he had sent me the night before was delivered to my room. Everything else, from mascara and shampoo to thousand dollar custom-tailored dress skirts replaced the meager wardrobe and cosmetics I had bought in preparation for the trip.

  Explaining that he anticipated my hoarding the clothing advance, Collin brusquely left me with an itinerary of the seminars he expected me to attend without him. Alone, with three hours before I needed to make my first appearance, I curled into a ball on the bed and tried to catch an hour's nap.

  Not that I didn't have the bed to myself as the hours wore on through the flight. Collin had slept on the sofa we had occupied with so much promise of pleasure at the beginning of the flight. Alone, I had managed maybe two broken hours of sleep in the seven I had been given. I had tossed and turned, flipping between hurt, anger and arousal as I struggled to understand why he had abandoned any attempt to take me.

  Had the look in my eyes and across my face been so genuinely naive, inexperienced and vulnerable that he considered it impossible to fake? That had to be it. With that one expression, he had gone from seducing the plump, rounded secretary he suspected of corporate espionage, to realizing just what a sad piece of work had wedged herself between his strong legs, eager to suck and lick him, to submit and abandon every last fragment of self-respect she possessed.

  Certainly, that was the best explanation. Stark never desired me. I had to keep reminding myself of that lest I succumb to the same wild desire that had gripped me at the beginning of our flight. A wild desire coupled with stupidity. I could hopefully control the stupidity the rest of the trip, perhaps even prove myself a worthy secretary and keep my job. Although I really didn't expect Collin not to fire me, as weak as I had shown myself to be.

  The hour's nap never materialized. I passed the first forty minutes as I had in the bed on the plane, chasing theories, trying to push aside self-loathing until I finally stormed into the marbled bathroom, took a cold, harsh shower and applied the expensive make-up, fragrances and clothing Stark had supplied my over-sized body.

  I kept my eyes off the final product, knowing I would hate the contrast between the costly tailored clothes and all the folds of flesh it tried to contain or the failure of the hundred-dollar-an-ounce foundation to miraculously narrow my broad cheeks or rounded chin. I marched across the hotel lobby and into the first seminar room blind to everyone around me. I would not make it through the first meeting, let alone the entire day, if I saw the derision in the eyes of the other attendees, men like Stark and their underlings and women hired as much or more for their beauty than their brains. I was so oblivious to everyone around me that I made it through the first two meetings without realizing I knew someone at the conference beyond Collin.

  Glenn Wilson Ames -- my ex-boyfriend, the closet fiancé who had failed to drive me to that last job interview in my degree field before I had to give up and apply for the secretarial pool of a company I knew nothing about as I killed the hour-long wait for the city bus to take me home.

  The coincidence wasn't a total surprise. Glenn and I had the same degree from the same university, just different concentrations. I had intended to use data analytics to optimize the efforts of global charities, not wars or the never-ending fight against terrorism.

  "Mia...Mia James?"

  I recognized Glenn's voice immediately. It hit me, at first, like a bullet, then blasted around me like the sharp grains of sand in the storms that sometimes paralyze Dubai. I had the sudden overwhelming sense that the universe was intent on completing my humiliation. Over-dressed and over-sized, I braced for the worst reaction possible then turned to acknowledge Glenn.

  Standing less than a foot from me, he extended his arms and wrapped them around me. Almost as strong as Stark, he crushed my yielding flesh against his hard chest, then kissed me lightly on the cheek.

  Dumbfounded, I stared up at him, my brows raised and my lips slightly parted.

  "Oops." Grinning, he took a step back before leaning in at a conspiratorial angle. "Don't want either of us getting stoned to death."

  Giving me one of those winks that had first hooked me in grad school, he straightened and took my elbow, guiding me to a nearby alcove in the wide corridor. "You look absolutely delicious, Mia baby."

  Lifting my chin and pushing my nose in the air, I finally closed my mouth. A year ago, his words would have delighted me. Compliments from Glenn had been more rare than fairy farts. Hell, two weeks ago, I might have been equally delighted, but that was before Stark had shown me the entirety of my value to men like my ex-fiancé or my current boss.

  The expensive clothes and outrageously pricy perfume Stark had wrapped me in told Glenn I had "moved up" since last we met. The truth was the exact opposite, but Glenn didn't know. Until he did, seeing one of his former classmates and ex-lovers at an invitation-only industry conference was an event to exploit to his benefit. If he found out I worked for a competitor, he would try to charm information from me. If he thought I worked for a potential client, he might just drop down on one knee and propose again.

  Not that he had dropped down on one knee the first time.

  His hand on my arm grew friendlier and he eased a few inches closer until his hip brushed against mine. "Who are you here for?"

  I hadn't said a single word but he seemed oblivious. I continued the silent treatment, unsure what quality or emotion my voice would reflect when I finally spoke. That instant before turning to face him, I had been certain his reaction to seeing me at the conference, the clothing, the defeated stain on my cheeks, would be the last tap of the hammer against my fragile shell.

  Now, with his obvious attempt to manipulate me, I seethed inwardly.

  I couldn't seethe outwardly -- I was representing Stark International and only had a tenuous grip on any future employment with the company. I couldn't indulge the urge to slap Glenn's face or raise a single accusatory finger in memory of our past relationship. I couldn't yell, cry or do anything other than grit my teeth and remain silent while the idiot prattled on.

  "Did I say how amazing you look?" His hand rubbed at my arm as his gaze traveled over my body. "I knew you would land someplace great, just didn't expect it to be on the defense side."

  He laughed, like we were s
haring a joke, and then his face changed. Looking past my shoulder, he raised an imperious brow. Straightening, he took his hand from me and his lips parted in a challenge directed at someone I couldn't see.

  "You need something?"

  "Not from you."

  Stark's voice, low and sharp edged. His hand curled around one side of my waist, the subtle spices of his cologne sparking an appetite low down in my gut. Wordlessly, he turned me and started walking at a quick pace I couldn't hope to match for long.

  Even if he hadn't spoken, I would have know it was Stark. The scent of his body and the way he fitted against me had already become as familiar to me as my own face in the mirror.

  "Who was he?"

  Fuck!

  The enormity of Glenn's presence at the conference finally reached up and bitch slapped me in the face. My ex-lover at a military security conference less than a week after my current employer discovered I had omitted my degrees from my resume.

  Or lied on my resume, which was exactly how Collin viewed anything other than an absolutely forthright statement of all facts that could possibly be of any relevance.

  Sucking a deep breath in, I answered. "Someone from my university. We had the same major, couple of classes..."

  Realizing I was digging a deeper pit than the one I already stood in, I stopped talking.

  "What is he doing here?"

  I shook my head. We certainly hadn't gotten that far along in the conversation, and I had possessed no intent to discover the company for which Glenn now worked. When Stark nailed me with an impatient side glance, I blurted the first likely answer that popped into my head.

  "Probably holding someone's briefcase or fetching coffee like me."

  The response earned me a second side glance, this one entirely sardonic. The look reminded me I was not there to hold a briefcase or fetch coffee. For a few minutes on the flight, I had been there to suck cock, to spread my legs and orgasm on command. Now I was a doorstop -- an unnecessary, unwanted executive accoutrement for the remainder of the trip.