Curvy Conquest

by Scarlett Avery

  “I’ll try not to,” I answer shyly, focusing on his impeccable shoes.

  Max is such a sharp dresser. His tailored dark grey suit fits him like a glove. I must say his colorful silk tie complements the classic VIP look. His calmness is such a contrast to the raging wild man who devoured me this morning before leaving for work.

  “We don’t have much time together today. I have an important call in about forty-five minutes and I can’t possibly make it through the rest of the day without tasting you.”

  “Wasn’t this morning satisfying enough?”

  “Oh, it was, but I’m greedy. I want more.”

  “Max…”

  “Candy, you can’t possibly refuse me the pleasure of enjoying your curves.”

  The raw energy I read in his eyes surprises me. No man has ever made me feel so wanted before.

  “Well…” I start.

  Max interrupts me before I can finish my thoughts. “I have big plans for you, baby.”

  “You do?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “What did you have in mind?” I ask flirtatiously.

  “I’m going to start by fucking your mouth like a beast and then I’ll shove my cock right here so I can mark you as mine,” he says, trailing his finger between my breasts. “Just thinking of what I’m going to do to you is making my cock very hard, sweetness.” I read the carnal desire in his eyes as he squeezes his cock with every word. “I want to watch you lick the head of my dick while I fuck your tits.”

  “Max, you know what your dirty talking does to me.” He’s barely touched me, but his words have a potent effect on me.

  “I want to see you lose control at my mercy,” he hisses, grabbing me by the waist and grinding against me.

  “Um, I think I’m already losing control.”

  “Good, because I needed you an hour ago but now I’m dying,” he whispers, ducking his head to suck my neck, my jaw, my lower lip in one sensual stroke. God, I love his hands on me.

  “I don’t think we should make this sex at work a habit,” I gasp, turned on like a lightbulb. “Why don’t I give you a quick peck on the lips and let you get back to your day.” I chuckle as I squeeze his cock.

  “You know, you’re such a tease—”

  Max is cut off as the phone on his desk rings. We stare lustfully at each other, both of us breathing heavily.

  “Damn phone. I’m sure it can wait.”

  By the fourth ring, it’s clear whoever is trying to reach Max isn’t going away. When his eyes turn somber, I seriously think he’s considering throwing me down on the desk and taking me before he even answers his call. Still glaring at me, he sighs and takes a step back before he reaches for the phone.

  “Yes,” he barks sharply into the receiver, his eyes never leaving mine. “Alicia, of course I’ll speak to Mr. Hatcher if he has an urgent matter and he can’t make the scheduled call. His call is forty-five minutes early, but I can’t wait another week before speaking to him. Put in through immediately.”

  Alicia Blackstone is Max’s personal assistant. She’s a perky thirty-four-year old brunette with two sets of twins—all boys. I still don’t know how she finds the energy to hold down a full-time job and juggle motherhood, but she assures me it’s all about hiring great help at home. Not to mention her husband’s income as a professional comedian doesn’t always cut it when it comes to feeding four hungry mouths.

  “Mr. Hatcher. No, these things happen. I don’t mind booking another longer meeting next week, but I feel strongly about us touching base today.” Max lowers himself into his leather desk chair, and I linger to see if he wants me to stick around until he finishes his call or if I should head out for lunch on my own. I gesture to the door and he holds up his index finger for me to wait before he slides it over his pen and starts scratching a few notes.

  “Are you sure you want me to stay?” I ask quietly, tracing the side of his desk with my finger.

  He nods once before speaking into the phone. “Brandon, I’m aware of this, but right now I need to find a way to cut back on my shipping cost for my garments because it’s eating into our profits.” The deep commanding tenor of his voice vibrates down my spine and up again. “We’re a great client and I’d hate to have to get my guys to look for a new carrier company.” God, he sounds so powerful. I fan myself to bring down my body temperature. Standing here in front of him while he conducts business makes me feel like an undisciplined schoolgirl who’s been summoned to the principal’s office. Sure, I’ll just stand here looking pretty.

  I fold my arms across my chest and exhale. He looks up at me and does a slight double-take, his eyes dropping to my hem. When he looks back up, his lips part slightly, as if he would ask me something were he not busy speaking to Mr. Hatcher. He grabs a wooden ruler from the top of his desk that looks more decorative than practical and uses the edge to push aside the hem of my wrap dress. His eyes widen when he sees my new garter belt.

  Oh, yeah, he left before I got into the shower and he had no idea I was ready for our kinky lunch. When Max left his penthouse for another early-morning meeting, I took advantage of the quiet time to make myself pretty for our lunch date. I selected a teal dress that cinches at the waist with a thin belt. The bell-shaped sleeves are particularly flattering and hit me right above the elbow. I love this design from Max’s collection because it was cut on a woman who has ample curves and it shows in the way it fits me so well. I paired the bright wrap dress with white lingerie. I selected this one because I knew the little blue bows adorning the garter belt would drive Max insane. I guess you could call it virginal white with a touch of naughty.

  “I’m sure your people can work with my people,” he murmurs into the phone, letting the lower part of the dress fall. “I’m sure you can appreciate as those divisions grow, the burst in our sales will greatly benefit your company as well.” Max’s eyes move up my body, darkening along the way. My heart pounds like crazy as wanton abandonment washes over me. I don’t know if he’s upset or incredibly turned on right now. It’s as if he’s wearing a mask. When he looks at me like he’s about to eat me alive, I want to drop to my knees and crawl on all fours all the way to his cock.

  “I like your suggestion, Brandon. I think we should look at other more cost-saving routes. I’d hate to ask our clientele to fork out more for our designs to cover these sky-high shipping fees and I’d hate to disappoint our sexy buyers by considering alternatives that will add to our delivery time.”

  This man is transforming me into someone I barely recognize. I step to my left and I take a seat in the chair across from him. He raises an eyebrow, interested, and then slides his index finger between his teeth, biting down.

  Do I have the guts to push the envelope much further than I’ve dared to try? There are a million and a half dirty thoughts bouncing in my head as heat blooms between my legs. Jesus, I can’t believe my clit is on fire. I reach for the hem of my dress, sliding the fabric up my thighs, exposing my skin to the cool air surrounding me, and to the hungry eyes of the man sitting behind the desk across from me.

  “I’d like to have something in place before our next delivery is scheduled to leave Brazil,” he says, but his voice is much deeper than in was a few minutes ago.

  He’s always in control and I wonder what it would feel like to turn the tables. My fingertips trail over the lines of the garters, along my skin and to the satin of my lingerie. I stop at the bows and toy with them with a devious grin on my face, hoping like hell he’s as aroused as I am. No one has ever made me feel as sexy as he does. It’s as if he’s erased all my past self-critical views of my plus-size body. When I look at myself through his eyes, I feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

  “Yes, of course,” he says. “I also believe it’s the ideal path forward for all parties concerned.”

  I couldn’t agree more. I spread open my legs, exposing myself to him. Take a good look, honey. I smile at him, biting my lip, and he gives me a mischievous half-smile in retu
rn. One of my hands travels higher, cupping my boobs and squeezing. The other pushes the center of my panties aside and I run two fingers across my wet skin.

  Max coughs as he widens his eyes and fumbles for his water. “Brandon, it sounds like we’ll be able to meet in the middle.”

  Damn. I begin moving my hand, thinking of his long fingers grasping the glass, those very same hands grabbing my full hips and waist and thighs when he pounded me yesterday in front of the floor-to-ceiling window right behind him.

  I move faster, tilting my head back against the chair and closing my eyes. I do my best to muffle the sensual sounds coming from me by biting down on my lip, but my body betrays me and a tiny moan escapes. I imagine his strong hands, his muscular forearms tensing as his fingers move inside me. I vividly remember how I came apart when his tongue lapped at me yesterday on this same desk, his gaze locked into mine the whole time as my body climaxed.

  I slowly meet his gaze. Max isn’t watching my hands, he’s taking in every single expression flashing across my face as I’m about to lose my mind. His hazel eyes are dark and nearly indecent. They’re solely focused on observing me take pleasure.

  “Argh,” I groan.

  Sweet Mother of God. Even though my climax is overwhelming, it still pales in comparison to the way I lose it when Max teases my clit with his fingers or his lips. He really owns my orgasms.

  At some point, Max must have ended his call with Mr. Hatcher because my breath sounds too loud in this silent office. When I regain my senses, Max sits across from me, his mouth gaping and his hands gripping the arms of his chair as if he’s riding the scariest fairground ride.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he hisses.

  I grin, brushing a loose strand out of my eyes. “Do I have to spell it out?”

  His brow lifts. “I guess not,” he says, getting up and circling the desk to stand over me. “If you think I’m going to allow you to tease me so mercilessly, you’re dead wrong,” he continues, gripping my arm and lifting me up before slamming my body against his. “You think your little performance was amusing? I have a raging erection I’m dying to relieve, love.”

  “From what I can tell, you enjoyed my little performance,” I answer defiantly.

  “You’re right. And I’m sure you’ll love it when I take your ass as punishment.” With one swift movement, Max flips me over and pins me face down on his desk.

  “What? You can’t be serious.”

  “You’ve pushed me and it’s now time for me to return the favor.”

  Before I can answer, we hear a knock on the door and we both freeze. And then a voice speaks.

  “Max, it’s Elliot. I have the urgent report you needed for your upcoming call with Mr. Hatcher.”

  We both hold our breath for a few seconds until my boyfriend breaks the deafening silence.

  “My VP of finance just saved your ass—literally.”

  Max takes a step back and straightens his expensive suit. I pick myself up and follow his cue by smoothing my dress back down my thighs and combing my fingers through my hair.

  “I guess I got lucky.”

  “For now, anyway.” His voice trails as he runs a finger between my breasts. “Just thinking of what I’m going to do to your tight little asshole to compensate for the fact I had to watch you come all over your hand while I was on an important call makes the waiting so worth it.” He grins.

  God, it was supposed to be an innocent tease and now he wants to claim every part of me.

  BOOK 4—CURVY CONQUEST

  Chapter Five

  I’m floating on air by the time I return to Sassy magazine after my little saucy show at my boyfriend’s office. This is the second day in a row Max and I spent lunch enjoying each other. I guess today, I was the one enjoying myself.

  I have a sneaking feeling my performance and the fact that he wasn’t able to come prompts him to send this text message at forty-thirty this afternoon. It read like a plot in a mystery novel.

  I’m conducting a phone interview with an up-and-coming plus-size designer from Boston when the message flashes on my phone. I grab my iPhone as I prop the landline securely between my ear and my neck. For a few seconds I forget all about the person on the other end of the line because I’m engulfed by Max’s invitation.

  -----

  You’re not getting away with murder. What you did this afternoon is a blatant call for punishment. Let’s finish what you started. Meet me tonight at seven. I’ll have the driver pick you up. Wear those naughty white garter belts with the blue bows you had on earlier today. You want to play? Let’s do it right.

  -----

  I have to bite off a smile in order to avoid being too obvious about how excited I am about Max’s saucy plans. Right after work, I rush home to get ready for my impromptu rendezvous with Max at a secret destination in the city. After taking a few minutes to reapply my makeup and coif my hair à la Adele, I slip into an elegant navy blue dress, which I pair with hot pink sandals adorned with sparkled high heels and platforms. The shoes are playful enough to offset the demure and classy dress.

  As predicted, Max’s driver arrives at six-thirty sharp to take me to meet my boyfriend. The chauffeur swerves through the side streets to avoid traffic and to my surprise the drive is smooth and I don’t have much time to get lost in my thoughts.

  When I arrive in front of a renovated building in the fashion district, I grab my phone and text Max to let him know I’m outside. As I wait for him to come down, I anxiously focus on my high heels. My head snaps up at the sound of the heavy metal door sliding open. As he approaches me, he flashes me a radiant smile and I instantly melt. I can’t believe this handsome and dashing man is my boyfriend.

  “Max.”

  “Baby, you look stunning,” he says, bending to kiss my cheek. “And you smell amazing—like a bouquet of gardenias. God, my girlfriend is hot.”

  I didn’t think it was possible for him to get even more attractive, but the proud grin that stretches across his face right now does just that.

  “Thank you,” I respond shyly.

  “Come on, let’s go inside.” He smiles at my reaction as he pulls me in the direction of the door.

  I’ll admit although I’ve been seeing Max for months now, we’ve never met at a strange deserted location like this and I’m a bit nervous at what he has planned for me. I suspect he might have picked up on my uneasiness. We ride the short elevator ride in silence and I can’t help but glance sideways at him to see if he’s also consumed by this heavy sense of anticipation pulsing all around us. Each floor heightens my excitement and I can’t wait to discover what he has planned for the night.

  The doors open directly into a warehouse, but instead of moving forward, I turn to face him.

  “Max,” I say, nodding toward the large room in front of us, “I know you talked about punishing me for my naughty ways, but I’m not walking into a dungeon with whips, chains or nipple clamps, am I?”

  His boisterous laugh fills the space. “What do you know about nipple clamps?”

  “I know plenty. I’ve had my fair share of discussions with my friends and I know all about this kinky world of Doms and subs.”

  “Jesus, Candy, you shock me. As much as I like sex rough, raw and relentless, I promise, tonight there will be no shackles or whips.” He grins and slaps my ass before he walks past me to lead us inside.

  “Wow,” I say, blushing as I cross the threshold. “What is this place?”

  “This whole building belongs to me. This is our storage facility, but this upper floor has always been empty for some reason. It’s such a contrast to the rest of the floors, which are crammed with merchandise.”

  “It’s beautiful.” I take in the room.

  “You like it?”

  “How can I not?”

  “It was last-minute, so it’s not as elaborate as I would have liked it to be, but I think it will do for tonight. I called in a favor from a set designer I know and she sent her t
eam to spruce up the place and transform it into a romantic wonderland.”

  I walk into the room and turn slowly, taking in every corner—the raw silk purple drapes against the cement walls, gorgeous antique furniture, the round table at the back of the room decorated like something you’d expect to see between the pages of Elle Décor, the large silver bucket filled with ice and bottles of champagne, the bouquets of flowers propped on little tables, the large gold mirrors and a velvet grey chaise in the middle of the room. It takes me a few minutes, but I recognize the beautiful melody playing in the background. “It’s Take Me To Church by Hozier.”

  “Yes. I love this song and his entire album.”

  “You did all this for me?” I gasp, turning around to face him and holding my chest.

  “Of course,” Max responds, closing the gap between us.

  “Why?” The word escapes my mouth before I can catch it.

  He smiles down at me warmly. “You said something earlier when we met at my office. It bothered me so much because it made me realize perhaps you don’t understand how I feel about you.”

  “What could I have said that would give rise to this royal treatment?” I ask, puzzled. “You spent most of your time talking to Mr. Hatcher while I played with myself,” I add daringly.

  “I’m not about to forget that conversation anytime soon. The imagery of you coming all over your hand in front of me is etched in my memory forever, love.”

  “Your text suggested you were going to punish me tonight. If this is your definition of punishment, bring it on.”

  “I was going to teach you a lesson tonight, but your words haunted me too much. I couldn’t ignore them. Right after you left my office, I called a few key people who started the ball rolling and set the stage for this magical night.”

  “I can’t remember what I said. Please refresh my memory.” As much as I try, I can’t recall what I might have said that would cause Max to pamper me like this.