His to Possess (Smoke & Curves (BBW Domination Romance))

by Christa Wick

  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."

  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 it," I replied. Glenn 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.

  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 Collin hadn't given me the bed to myself as the hours wore on through the flight. He had, taking his own rest on the sofa we had occupied with so much promise of pleasure at the beginning of the flight. Regardless, 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. I couldn't 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 spying, 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 still 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 that 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 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 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.

  I stared up at him, dumbfounded, 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 that I had "moved up" since last we met. The truth was quite the opposite, but Glenn didn't yet know that. 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.

  No
t that he had dropped down on one knee the first time.

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

  I hadn't said a single word but he seemed not to notice. 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 was plain pissed.

  Of course, I was also representing Stark International and only had a tenuous grip on any future employment with the company. I couldn't give into the urge to slap Glenn's face or raise a single accusatory finger in memory of our past relationship. I couldn't yell, or 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 sharing a joke, and then his face changed. Looking past my shoulder, Glenn 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."

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

  I didn't need to glance out of the side of my eye to confirm that it was Stark. Not only was his voice imprinted on my ear drum, but 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 was stuck 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 slightly amused and entirely sardonic. The look reminded me I was not there to hold a briefcase or fetch coffee. For a few minutes on the flight in, 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.

  "Name?"

  "Glenn Ames," I answered softly, knowing it had become a matter of days, if not hours, before Collin new the truth. With any luck, he wouldn't bother to inquire about Glenn's background until we were back in the United States. I didn't want to max out my credit card on airfare home if Stark fired me on the spot after finding out Glenn and I had been lovers.

  Abruptly halting, Collin turned my body again until I faced the glass doors of the elevator bank that would return me to the suite. Shocked into forgetting that I had no intention of looking at myself in the clothes he had secured for me once I realized there was no a chance of his finding me desirable, I came face-to-face with the woman in the mirror.

  The updo I had piled my dark brown hair into had an Audrey Hepburn feel to it, old-time Hollywood glamour even if I had modeled it after one of the thinnest women ever to grace the silver screen. The heavy hand I'd taken in applying the brow liner and borrowed eyelashes heightened the effect, as did the limited color palette Stark had selected for the cosmetics delivered to my room. Smoky eyes, a full pucker of lips of the softest frosted pink pearl -- I didn't want to look below my chin and ruin that first impression.

  I looked anyway and smothered a gasp.

  Ignoring my reaction, Collin pressed the elevator call button. When his attention finally found its way back to me, his gaze dropped down the length of the mirror as both hands found my hips. I felt the soft butt of his torso and pelvis against my padded backside and then he smiled, the expression almost hidden as he pressed his nose into my hair and inhaled.

  His eyes jumped up to meet mine in the reflection and he gave both hips a little squeeze. "Straight back to the suite, baby. We'll...talk...when I return."

  **********

  Stark didn't return to the suite until midnight. Lunch and dinner were delivered and, around nine, a bottle of champagne and a bucket of ice. I crawled into bed, alone, after having used the phone earlier to secure the speedy delivery of my original luggage. If Stark fired me once he got back to the suite, I didn't want to camp out naked at the airport.

  I somehow managed to fall into a light sleep before he entered carrying two flutes filled with champagne. Placing the glasses on the nightstand, he touched the base of the lamp once to give the room a soft glow. I gazed up at him, knowing my face gave my guilt away, but unable to stretch my expression into something more neutral.

  His shadow falling across me, he reached with one arm to lazily draw the covers down to my hips. For the first time in six months, I saw shock skitter across Collin Stark's face before he strangled it.

  "This is not what I provided you with."

  "No." I reached for the covers. "It's what I provided me with."

  He chuckled, surprising me with an indulgent shake of his head. "Flannel, Mia, in the god damn desert. I should spank you just for packing that granny gown."

  I bit back any response.

  A pinch of his fingers and flick of his wrist had the rest of the top bedding spooling on the ground. "I'm definitely going to spank you for Glenn."

  I swallowed the reply that first jumped to mind. If he really knew about Glenn, he would be firing, not spanking, me. Instead of immediately giving myself away, I asked an open question.

  "Why?"

  Capturing the bottom him of my nightgown, he playfully eased it up my shins. "Your posture while talking to him."

  Clearly Stark wasn't as good at reading body language as he thought. With a blurt, I made my first major misstep of the night. "My posture was mortified. I had no idea he would be here. I haven't seen him in over six months. I hate him!"

  "Hate is a strong word for a mere classmate, baby." One hand still gripping the edge of my nightgown, he stretched an arm toward the lamp, tapping twice more to bring it to full brightness. He looked over every inch of the granny gown, with its long sleeves that ended in frills, to the pearl-like buttons that ran in a line from the middle of my breasts up to my chin.

  Unnerved by the way his smile had softened, I tried to scoot all the way to the opposite side of the bed as I glared at him. He let me retreat, but only so he could slide onto the mattress next to me.

  He tugged the bottom of the gown all the way up to my hips. He pushed at my far thigh, then ran the back of his knuckles against the gusset of my panties. "I was wondering how long it would take to get you wet, angry as you are."

  He slipped a finger beneath the elastic band and ran the tip along the seam of my labia once from top to bottom before pushing gently into the well of flesh that gated my cunt. "Wet already. Were you thinking of me or Glenn?"

  Fuck the arrogant bastard! I had been wet almost as long as he had been in the room, just fighting like he
ll not to notice. Now that he had called me out over the drenched fabric and dripping pussy, I would be damned if I gave his overinflated ego another direct pump.

  "I told you, I don't like him." Still glaring at him, I folded my arms across my chest and shoved my hands into my armpits to hide their shake.

  "Hate him," Collin corrected. "But that doesn't answer my question. This thick cream could be for him."

  "It isn't!" He wanted to force me to admit my arousal, just as he had done on the plane. "It doesn't matter how attractive Glenn is, he's a complete asshole."

  Another chuckle and my panties came off with a sharp rip of fabric. "An attractive asshole -- sounds like your opinion of me, baby. So which one of us has your pussy all worked up?"

  I shut my eyes, wishing he had left the light off. My cheeks started to burn and I bit furiously at my lip in an effort to cool them. "You!" I blurted at last.

  He rolled until a third of his body rested lightly on top of my hip, arm and breast. "Open your eyes. I can't trust you until you stop hiding."

  I obeyed, cursing at him inside my head with each centimeter my eyelid lifted.

  "Tell me again." His fingertips whispered over the soft fur of my cunt.

  "I'm wet for you." There -- he won again, wrested one last humiliating admission from me. Now he probably intended to fire me, had been holding back revealing his knowledge of my past relationship with Glenn until I was wet and trembling beneath him.

  His lips ghosted along the side of my face. "Such a dirty thing to say when you look so sweet and innocent, with your flannel gown and its pink flowers, love."

  Love?

  Oh, Mia -- you fucking dolt!

  Stark was far from finished with his sensual torment. He had just upped the attack using that word, a word that had no business falling from his lips when directed at me. I was an employee, a lying employee in his opinion, not to be trusted but to be exposed and ousted.

  Love...

  He started undoing the buttons on the gown. "Let's at least get you naked so I don't feel like such a defiler."

  "Collin--" Catching my error, I hastily amended my ambiguous plea. "I mean, Mr. Stark..."