Falling into Black

by Carrie Kelly

  "Looks like you spilled plenty down here," he groaned and ran a long finger around the base of the vibrator, making my body shutter.

  My cheeks burned out of embarrassment, and I pressed my face against the table while lifting my ass toward him.

  “So wet,” he mused, his breath tickling my sex.

  In that moment, my heart seemed to stand still.

  What was he going to do now?

  Then the first flick of his tongue collided with my slit, just the tip slowly tasting me. Another puff of air and he licked me again, the gentle teasing enticing my lusty being. His fingers dug into my full thighs, forcing them open further as he lapped at my sex with greedy lick after lick.

  I tried to grip onto the table, but my fingers slipped over the smooth surface, my body writhing under his hands and mouth.

  I moaned and panted, moving my hips in time with each succulent stoke. He lapped with precision, his fingers gripping my flesh until it ached, but my whole body begged for more.

  My mind swam wild with pleasure so sharply I never wanted it to end -- only wanted more of him on me, his body ravishing mine with his thrilling tongue.

  The familiar tingle started in my mound, the build up of an intense pressure that wound through my veins like the roots of a plant. Suddenly, it overflowed and my whole body shook at the intensity of the orgasm. I moaned so loudly I was sure someone on the floor below us heard.

  For a moment, he panted on my satisfied cunt, his hot breath drawing out my pleasure. Then he pulled the vibrator free with a slick pop and smacked my ass twice before he hiked up my panties and lowered my dress.

  "Did you learn your lesson, Alicia?" he whispered in my ear, his body hot against mine.

  "Yes, Mr. Black." I was too much of a coward to say no.

  "Go get cleaned up and take your lunch break."

  I watched him go and took a deep breath to compose myself. Getting cleaned up sounded like a good plan.

  As I walked out of the meeting room, I noticed the blonde woman from before. She stood next to the elevators -- her eyes watching Mr. Black disappear into his office.

  My cheeks flushed as I walked past her, and I hoped she didn't guess his little game during the meeting.

  "You’re his new assistant, are you?" she asked, and I nodded.

  A cruel smile fell across her red lips. "Don't get too cozy in your new position. You won't last long. He goes through girls like you once a month, and once he's done with you you’re out for good."

  "I don't know what you mean," I mumbled. But I did know – she meant chubby and plain girls like me.

  "Don’t play dumb with me. I know his games better than anyone. But I'm the only one who can give him what he needs," she said and stepped into the open elevator.

  She smiled at me as the doors closed, and I stood there for a long time.

  Of course. This was just a game – and I was as disposable as any other girl.

  * * *

  I kicked off my heels and leaned against the door, taking a deep breath. It was finally Friday night. After the week I’d had I wasn't sure I could take much more without a break. Not only had my boss forced me to wear a vibrator during a board meeting -- tantalizing my body in unspeakable ways- but he hadn't mentioned anything about it since.

  Not that I was surprised; his moods kept him from explaining any of his actions, and I was just his lowly personal assistant, after all.

  I put down my purse on the side table and pulled out my phone as I walked toward the bedroom. Pizza and wine sounded fabulous for dinner, but when I thought of all the skinny girls back at work I decided to settle for whatever frozen meal I had left in my freezer.

  Sure, I might never be a size six, but I didn't have to balloon up above my already curvy size twelve figure. At least I could still have a glass or two of wine -- and maybe a Lean Cuisine chocolate cake for dessert.

  God knows I needed chocolate!

  As I started a bath, pouring in a liberal amount of lilac bubble bath, I thought of the woman at the board meeting. She was the total opposite of me in almost every way. Tall where I was short, thin where I was curvy, and she had blond straight hair while my hair was a wild mass of hazelnut curls.

  Typically, I didn't have the courage to ask Mr. Black about her. Had they really been an item? Was she the one who could give Mr. Black what he needed, whatever that was? If any woman could it would be her, I guessed. But if that were true why weren't they together now?

  Ugh. His love life was none of my business! Although it was probably a lot more interesting than my nonexistent one.

  Slowly, I stripped off my clothes, unbuttoning my silk blouse and slipping the A-line skirt off my rounded hips. The fabric slipped over my skin pleasingly, reminding me of his touch. Mr. Black's hands, so cruel and talented as they pinched and prodded my body into a world of quivering delight.

  I knew I shouldn't feel special. He probably fooled around with all his personal assistants, but it was impossible to shake the gorgeous billionaire from my mind. The way his dark, wavy hair brushed against the back of his neck and his temples. The startling blue eyes that held me in their intense gaze. The quirk of his mouth, the cut of his strong jaw -- everything about him was perfect and perfectly unattainable.

  I turned off the water and grabbed a new bottle of wine from the fridge, pouring myself a glass before I returned to the bathroom. Easing into the tub, the heat of the water surrounded me, the rich scent of lilac engulfing my nose in its rich bouquet.

  After another deep breath and two long sips of the blood red alcohol, my body finally started to relax.

  Two whole days without Mr. Black breathing down my neck. Two days without the constant threat of kinky punishments or his moody behavior.

  My heart ached a little at the thought. But why? Shouldn't I be happy to have a weekend off? Foolishly, I hoped he'd get by without me. Well, he'd survived before. This was just a job. A way to pay off my student loans, my rent and my car so I didn’t end up living on the streets.

  I’d just dunked under the water, soaking my curls, when the telltale ring of my phone startled me from my relaxation. Who the hell was calling me at nine p.m.?

  Reaching over, I checked the caller ID.

  Mr. Black? What did he need?

  For a moment, I considered not answering it. What would he do if I just let it go to voicemail?

  Yell at me on Monday morning, that's for damn sure.

  Sighing, I clicked ‘answer.’

  "Yes Mr. Black?" I said and sounded like a little girl.

  "Alicia. I need you to come over right away. It's an emergency," he said in his gruff voice.

  All thoughts of a peaceful evening drifted away, but a strange knot of excitement wound in my belly. "What kind of emergency?"

  "I'll tell you when you get here. Do you know where I live?"

  "No, sir. Hold on. Let me get a pen," I said and climbed out of the tub, dripping all over the tile floor as I wrapped my body in a fluffy pink towel and walked to the bedroom.

  I scribbled down the directions to his home and hung up. Guess I had a new plan for the evening. I hoped he wouldn't mind if I showed up in sweats and a T-shirt since all my work clothes were in desperate need of a wash.

  Well, maybe I'd go with jeans instead.

  ***

  When I arrived at his building I felt woefully underdressed, but at least I put on the jeans. It was one of those huge penthouse high-rises, the kind that cost millions of dollars and offers great views of the sprawling city beneath it. I never thought I'd have the chance to see inside one in real life.

  "Who are you visiting?" the man at the front desk asked.

  "Mr. Black. Dorian Black," I said and pushed a curl behind my ear. Since my hair was wet, I braided it to keep it from getting frizzy. Hopefully, whatever this emergency was wouldn't take long.

  "Name?"

  "Alicia Jones. He's expecting me." I tried to sound confident, but I'm not sure it came out right.

 
"He is. Go right ahead, Ms. Jones."

  I nodded and rode the elevator to the top floor. Mr. Black must have a thing with high rises.

  He always has to be on top!

  I giggled nervously at my own silly pun and stepped onto his floor. There were only a few doors, meaning these penthouses were probably huge, but what did I expect for the amount of money they cost?

  I knocked once and the door swung open.

  My breath caught in my throat.

  Mr. Black stood in front of me, his chest bare and finely chiseled like that of a Greek sculpture. A light sprinkling of dark curls graced his fine build. His hair dripped and his body shimmered with droplets of water. The only thing around his waist was a black towel.

  Of course he'd have black towels.

  My cheeks heated immediately, and I tried to keep my eyes focused on the rough edge of his cheek.

  "What's the emergency?"

  He grabbed my arm in a firm hold and yanked me inside, shutting the door. "What’s your dress size? Ten? Twelve? How about shoes?"

  "Why?" I asked and followed him like a stray puppy.

  "Fundraiser. I need a date," he said and pointed to a pile of dresses on his bed.

  I remembered seeing a fundraiser for the art museum on his schedule, but I didn't think anything of it. Since I’d been working for Mr. Black he’d attended a couple different functions like that, and I wasn't invited to any of them.

  "It's nearly ten. Isn’t it almost over by now?"

  He ran his fingers through his hair and clenched his jaw. "Are you questioning me after I went through all the trouble of getting you a dress?"

  My throat closed up again and I shook my head, looking at the pile of material on his bed. It ranged from slick satin to sheer silk to puffy organza. They were all gorgeous, but why had he gone to the trouble just for me?

  "Don’t you have another woman who could accompany you? I'm sure you have plenty of--"

  "Ladies in my little black book?" he asked and cut me off.

  My cheeks burned, and I nodded.

  Ladies with their own gowns for fancy events, I'll bet.

  The blonde woman from the board meeting came to mind, but I didn't ask about her. He must have a reason for not bringing it up.

  Without a word he shuffled through the dresses and pulled out a dark pink satin number that looked like something Marilyn Monroe would’ve worn.

  "This suits you. Put it on."

  "Yes, Mr. Black," I said and took the dress, walking toward the bathroom.

  "No. Put it on here. You don't have anything I haven't seen before, Alicia," he said, a strange note to his voice.

  Slowly, I turned around and pulled my T-shirt over my head, baring my black lacy bra. His eyes burned into my flesh as I slipped the jeans over my curvy hips. At least I'd worn matching black lace panties just in case he decided to punish me.

  I hoped, as I pulled the dress over my head, that it fit. Talk about embarrassing if he couldn't zip it up!

  Thankfully, it wasn't full-length but fell just to my ankles with a slight train in the back. Once I smoothed the material over my hips and breasts he walked up behind me. The heat of his body radiated onto mine, and I took a deep breath of his sharp, clean scent.

  "Perfect," he whispered as he eased the zipper up.

  Glancing in the full-length mirror, I almost agreed with him. The dress fit like it was made for me, and I smiled at my reflection. He even had a pair of black heels that fit me perfectly as well.

  His fingers carefully unwound my hair. "You have to do something with this."

  "Mr. Black, I don't even have makeup or anything," I said and frowned.

  If this is what he wanted he could have let me know before I rushed over. At least I would've come prepared!

  "Bathroom," he said and walked towards his closet.

  I watched him go, the muscles in his back shifting as he moved across the room like some kind of predatory animal. A panther -- that's what he'd be -- a black panther.

  In the bathroom I wound my hair into an acceptable French twist and pinned it in place. I wasn't going to ask where he acquired all of the brand-new makeup and hair products. A quick sweep of blush, eyeliner and lipstick, and I was ready to go.

  Not quite Marilyn, but as good as I was going to get.

  While Mr. Black dressed I took a closer look around his penthouse. It was sparsely decorated with ultra modern furniture and abstract art. How much time did he spend here? It didn’t really feel lived in -- more like a fancy hotel room. Maybe his real home was someplace else.

  A few minutes later he stepped out of the closet in the perfectly fitted black Armani suit and tie. In truth, he didn't look much different than he did on a day-to-day basis, but I wasn't going to bring that up.

  Carelessly, he ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his five o'clock shadow. When his piercing blue eyes fell on me a slow smile spread across his lips, and he nodded approvingly.

  "Ready?" he asked.

  "Yes, sir," I said.

  Is this what it was always going to be like as his personal assistant? And would he punish me if I messed up tonight?

  A jolt of anticipation spread over my body, a sick hunger that only he could give me.

  He put a hand on my back and led me out of the penthouse and toward the elevators. His touch burned through the satin and into my skin, my body aching for more. The man at the front desk raised an eyebrow as we walked by, and I tried to hold my head high -- like I belonged by Mr. Black’s side -- but I didn’t feel it.

  The cool night air made goosebumps rise on my arms, and my boss opened the door of a waiting limo. My mind swam as I climbed inside.

  How much of this did he have planned? Or did his real date cancel at the last minute and he figured I’d be the only one without plans on a Friday night? God! Why can’t you just ask him, Alicia?

  My dress slid easily over the leather seats of the limo, and I watched as Mr. Black climbed in after me. The driver must’ve already known where to go since the divider was closed.

  I clasped my hands in my lap and glanced out the window -- working up the courage to question my drop dead gorgeous boss. Anything that I said might make him angry, and he could turn that anger on my starving flesh. The idea sent shocks of need through my veins.

  “Champagne?” he asked and opened a little refrigerator in the corner.

  “Please,” I said. Maybe the alcohol would give me some much needed courage.

  His fingers slipped off mine as he handed me a glass, and I took a long, eager sip -- the bubbles tickling my nose.

  “Why me?” I blurted out suddenly, and my cheeks reddened.

  Good going, Alicia! Way to be smooth about it.

  His bright blue eyes turned on me. “Why you for what?”

  I looked at the golden liquid, the streetlights illuminating it just so. “For everything. The job -- this fundraiser. I just don’t understand.”

  He snorted at that, and out of the corner of my eye I watched him take a sip off his own glass. “Is it that important? I hired you because I thought you’d be the best fit, and I haven’t been proven wrong yet. You come through, Alicia, and that’s what I need.”

  Right. Good for the job. But that doesn’t explain the rest of it.

  After another sip, my mind felt fuzzier and my tongue looser.

  “Why the punishments? Why this?” I asked and looked him square in his gorgeous face. “I know you have other women who’d love to be here right now.”

  “And you don’t want to be here?” he asked and his long fingers tightened on the glass.

  The question caught me off guard. I did want to be there, but at the same time it was almost painful because I knew how fake it was -- how the show was nothing but that -- a show. If I had a choice, maybe I would have been back home with a frozen dinner and my wine. At least I knew that was real. At least then I wasn’t being played around with by some rich asshole just because he could.

  The tears prick
ed at the corners of my eyes, and I blinked to keep them back. “Not really. Not when I know I’m the last choice you’d ever make.” The words tumbled out of my mouth too quickly, and I couldn’t take them back.

  His eyes widened. It’s the first time I saw Dorian Black surprised about anything.

  “You think you’re my last choice?” he asked and gripped my arm with his free hand. His fingers dug into my flesh, bruising it, but the touch still excited my senses -- making me want more.

  My cheeks burned, but I nodded anyway. “Yes.”

  For a moment his eyes seemed to shatter like glass, the hardness they usually held falling away to reveal a softer side underneath. Slowly, he leaned forward, his hand moving up my arm until he gripped my chin in his powerful fingers. His breath was hot and his lips were almost gentle as they pressed into mine. I melted into his kiss, his touch and his lips, like an ice cube on a hot summer’s day.

  Dorian Black was kissing me!

  His rich tongue eased into my mouth, forcing my lips open as he gripped the back of my neck in a strong hold. I let out a moan as I gave into his every want -- his every desire. I know he didn’t really answer any of my questions, but he was too perfect to resist.

  Absently, I dropped the glass of champagne as he gripped onto my hips, urging me to straddle his lap and lift up my dress.

  I obliged. What else could I do?

  His fingers ran up and down my smooth thighs, pushing the dress up farther and farther until my legs were spread wide, my lace panties on display just for him. He plucked at the material, rubbing it under his scorching hands until I writhed beneath him, my breath catching in my throat.

  “You really don’t want to be here?” he groaned, rubbing the rough edge of his cheek across my heaving cleavage.

  “I don’t know, Mr. Black,” I mumbled, unable to focus on anything but the hungry passion of my body.

  “Hmm,” he said, his lips kissing my ample chest. Pulling the dress down, my breasts popped free and he engulfed the left nipple with his teeth and tongue. The sharp pain of each bite, the tingling delight of his suckling, made it impossible to think of anything else.

  I gripped onto his head and ran my fingers through the smooth black waves, urging him closer to my lust ridden flesh.