by Christa Wick
Another ruse, then, the switch to Confidence Up meant to keep me off balance.
"Your clothes have been getting more form fitting by the day, your neckline a little lower, your heels a little higher…"
True on both counts and I hadn't even realized it.
Had I been subconsciously dressing up for Stark, experimenting with how much of my body I had to highlight before I was no longer invisible? That wasn't like me, but neither was a soaking wet pussy at the thought of being dominated by a man.
"The lie would be just enough to bring us to this point, to tempt me into testing you." His fingers drifted across my sex to find my clit, the pressure increasing as he rubbed a slow line up and down its length. "Your body's response deepening my trust. Is that it, Mia? Did one of my enemies find a beautiful, desperate and naturally submissive female to betray me?"
Beautiful? Submissive?
Both words were foreign. Not only was there too much of me for any man to ever think me beautiful, but make-up did nothing for me and my hair never behaved. Beautiful is thin, cultured, sophisticated. I was none of those things. Submissive was even more of a stretch, at least with every other man I had ever met. Who were they to tell me to stand in a corner or when to spread my legs?
But then I had never met a man with a voice that could cut diamonds or hands that could bend steel.
"Is that it, Mia?" His fingers abandoned my clit to push deep inside me in a thick triangle. He stroked, twisted, the digits buried all the way to his base knuckles. "Are you here to betray me?"
"Mr. Stark!" I don't know if my reaction was to the question or the increased intimacy of his touch. There was no way to sugarcoat it. Stark was finger fucking me, plunging deep and hard through my hot, wet hole, my body wedged tightly into the corner and my hands clutching at the wall's smooth surface for support.
"Collin when my fingers are in you."
The noise he made was almost a warm chuckle, only the sharp undertone of his words reminding me this was a dangerous man.
"No one sent me here." I tightened around him, tried to stop the onslaught of pleasure melting my brain long enough to answer coherently. "I would never betray you."
Collin stepped closer so that it wasn't just his fingers touching me. I felt his chest against my back as he leaned forward to place his lips against my throat. His hand lined up with his cock, the roll and dip of his hips playing my body like a pinball machine as he directed his fingers deeper and harder.
"You know what, beautiful?" He didn't wait for me to answer. "Right now, I don't care. I'm going to punish you for the lie and then I'm going to fuck you."
My acquiescent moan shocked me. I was not only ready to be punished by him, I wanted it. Job or no job. He could have told me right then he was firing me and it wouldn't matter. With the tension coiling tighter inside me, I only cared that he not stop touching me. Gentle or rough, demanding or giving.
"You want this?" His free hand surfed across my hip, slid down my mound and cupped it. His teeth pressed against my neck in a prelude of the pain to come.
"Yes." Another moan and I squeezed his fingers, my muscles working with them to enhance my pleasure and push me closer to climax.
Through the lace underwear, he rubbed the low-centered split of my mound, manipulating my clit up and down. "Are you close?"
"Yes…" I panted, my ass grinding at him.
Hips thrusting, his fingers a stand-in for his cock, Collin drove me straight up to the edge of release, waiting until I was gasping and mindlessly groaning, juices running down my thighs as my cunt whipped around his fingers and then he abruptly pulled away a split second before I could trip over that line. Capturing my wrists again, he held my hands above my head. He pressed my body all the way into the corner, making it impossible for me to flex my thighs or work my internal muscles in any way that would carry me that last little distance to climax.
"Please," I sobbed.
"Not yet, baby." He waited until my body stopped seeking release, and then he wound his fingers through my hair and led me blindfolded over to the couch.
He stopped next to the table with its side lamp and that evening's mail. I detected more light at the edges of the blindfold as Collin increased the room's brightness. Still holding me by the hair, he sat down, dragging me with him and manipulating my body so that I was stretched across his lap. His hand left my hair and I felt him grab the material of my panties with both hands. A hard jerk along each side, with two quick tears of fabric, and only my thigh high stockings and open-toed pumps remained to cover my lower body.
His hands moved under my heavy breasts, the fingers fast and deft as he undid the buttons on my blouse. My body eager to accommodate him, I strained and lifted my torso. He peeled the shirt back and off me then reached between us again to release the front snap on my bra. He unknotted the blindfold then gathered my wrists together, using the material to tie my hands behind my back.
"Collin…"
One glance from him killed any protest. His gaze smoldered, its heat almost pathological with the need to dominate me. I had no doubt he intended to spank me. It wouldn't be light or playful, either. Most disturbing was the realization that knowing it would not be gentle made me that much wetter and eager for the first blow. I licked my lips and pressed my eyes tightly shut in anticipation of my punishment.
"No, look at me. Don't close your eyes, don't look away or you'll make it worse."
I opened my eyes, felt my lips quiver from a combination of emotions.
Collin rubbed his hand between my legs. "Your pussy is very wet, Mia. Hot to the touch and soaked."
I blinked, then prayed like crazy that wasn't a violation of the command he had just given me. I wanted to please him, to convince him he could trust me, to get through the ordeal so that his cock would be in me delivering the release I had been so close to in the corner.
"Have you ever had a lover spank you?"
"No," I whispered. My pussy twitched at the idea and I detected the faint lift of one side of his mouth.
He gave a little squeeze along my perineum, his palm pushing against my bottom while the tips of his fingers curved toward the muscle gating my cunt. "And how many lovers have you had."
"Three," I confessed. Would he think that too many? Not enough?
"That's a rather small number for such a pretty girl." He had started to run little circles around my hole, my muscles flexing and jumping in response as my hips dug into the top of his thighs.
But not for a fat one.
I didn't say what I was thinking, didn't say anything, just took another nervous lick of my lips and blinked.
"Relationships or hook-ups?" His thumb found the hole, slid inside, the tip of his index finger pressing from the outside so that he was lightly pinching my cunt.
I blinked again and took a hard breath in. Every little thing he did made me that much more aroused. I could feel the cream of my pussy dripping from my hole toward my clit, wetting Collin's silk dress pants as I fought not to answer with another moan.
"Relationship."
Watching my face, his gaze narrowed. "Still in a relationship, still fucking someone with this tight little pussy?"
He gave a little tug with the last three words and I almost exploded all over the couch. My hips jerked high, a moan ripped from my throat. Only the slap of his hand hard against my bottom shocked me out of my impending climax.
"Are you still in a relationship?" he demanded.
"No." My answer left me with a whimper. A contraction ran hard through my cunt, from the entrance he had once again taken command of all the way up into my uterus.
"Why did it end?"
I managed a shrug, the gesture pulling my bound arms tight. "Why does anything?"
His mouth flattened but I didn't offer any other answer. The relationship had ended for a hundred reasons and for no reason at all. I had graduated. I was fat. I had no job. I had student loans coming due. I was fast approaching the day I wouldn't be abl
e to make my rent and the bastard didn't give a shit. He told me he loved me, but that he was embarrassed to be seen with me.
And on that very last day as a couple, he had promised to drive me to a job interview, my final opportunity in my chosen field, then bailed without calling. I used the last twenty dollars I had in the bank for the rest of that week to take a cab so I might, just might, arrive on time. I didn't and was turned away.
To keep the trip from being a total waste, I had crossed the street and turned in an application -- at Stark International.
"He hurt you." Collin wasn't asking me if it was true, merely stating it as fact. When I nodded, a faintly sad smile played across his mouth for a second. "I'm about to hurt you."
I managed a second shrug. "He hurt me where it counts."
Wilson had burned through my last thread of confidence, cut my last heart string. Defeated, I wept with gratitude when I was hired into the secretarial pool at Stark's company.
Collin nodded then smeared a thin coating of my cream against my outer lips and thighs. "You're still very wet, Mia."
I closed my eyes, couldn't keep them open. He had asked some very personal questions, his fingers still toying with me, testing me. I hadn't lost an ounce of my arousal in answering him. The intimacy of his interrogation left me quivering with need.
"Keep your eyes open." He plunged his fingers into me before rubbing more of my juices along my flesh. "I think you like this."
I looked at him, my brow furrowed and mouth shaping a pout. That hint of a smile I'd seen earlier reappeared, his eyes softening before his expression grew stern once more.
"Failure to answer is the same as a lie." He flattened his hand across my bottom as if preparing to deliver another blow. "Do you like what I'm doing to you?"
"Yes." I wanted to close my eyes again, the admission almost humiliating, but I kept my gaze intently fixed on his face. I didn't see him raise his hand and only had a second's warning in which to brace myself as he swiftly brought it back down. The smack echoed in his cavernous office, my overripe flesh rippling from the impact.
"Who told you to lie on your resume?"
The change in questions surprised me and I hesitated before answering. Big mistake. He landed another smack before I could get my answer out, my skin starting to sting painfully from the abuse.
"No one." My hips ground against his thighs, my ass tensing in anticipation of the next time flesh met flesh. "Please believe me."
Collin rubbed his hand between my legs, kneading my swollen labia, stroking and pinching at my clit before he plunged a thick wedge of three fingers in and out of my pussy. "Do you want my cock in you, Mia, want me to fuck this tight, pretty little hole of yours?"
"Yes." More moan than word. I bit at my bottom lip. The pain brought tears to my eyes but kept them open. My ass lifted, moved against his fingers, tried to keep them in me when he retreated.
"Wanting you isn't enough to make me stupid, Mia. You transferred schools from North Carolina. Who sent you here?" He had his hand up, palm flat, fingers spread wide and ready. "Tell me who hired you and then I can fuck you."
I knew where he was going, what he was thinking. I'd grown up two hours from Moyock, home of another private military company. It was ever so slightly paranoid to think I'd been recruited in North Carolina, transferred schools to Virginia and got my master's degree in Maryland all so I could one day apply to the secretarial pool of Stark International. I took a deep breath in and tried to match the steel in Collin's gaze.
"I don't work for Blackwater."
Three more smacks, hard and fast and then his fingers were back in me, plunging and twisting until I forgot about the stinging pain. My ass lifted, dipped, rolled. My arms, still bound, shook with fatigue. My pussy clenched, sucked at his fingers, my drenched arousal and the thick slide of his fingers creating loud squelching sounds as his hand continued to fuck me. Through all of it, I never stopped staring into his eyes, didn't look away.
Neither did he. "Lie to me some more, Mia."
I took a shuddering breath in, repeating my denial one last time. "I work for you, Collin. Only you."
My body exploded with the last word, my hips jerking high, ass up and straining, thigh muscles clenching tighter and tighter as my hips rolled in a tight circle, my cunt grinding against his fingers. Fluid squirted from me, hitting the leather cushions of the couch hard enough to splash back against my bare stomach. The stream stopped, restarted, a fresh burst leaving me with every hard squeeze of satisfaction that gripped my cunt.
Collin kept his fingers in me, deep and unrelenting until I collapsed against him, my pussy rhythmically coiling and uncoiling around him.
At some point, I had closed my eyes. I opened them to find him staring at my face, his lips slightly parted as he breathed through his mouth. His lids drooped heavily, almost as if he had been drugged. He resumed inside me with deep gentle strokes. His mouth closed, his chest rising sharply as he inhaled.
"Have you done that before?"
Embarrassment closed my eyes and flamed across my cheeks. I wasn't sure what I had done, but liquid had never left me like that during a climax. Hell, climax was too weak a word for what had happened. It was like calling an F5 tornado eating up everything in its path a summer storm. I had never experienced anything, pain or pleasure, so intensely as I had felt with his fingers violating me as hot fluid squirted from me, my inner core gripping him like my life depended on it.
"Mia." He growled my name, his voice so raw I had to open my eyes to make sure it was him. Something wild lit his gaze, all his infamous control and cold detachment obliterated if only for one second flashing through time.
"No." I was leaking again, this time from my eyes and not my pussy.
He shook his head, denying something -- my tears, maybe. He unknotted the binding from my wrists, releasing me with a sharp command. "Stand in front of my desk."
I stood, not daring to look at him as I tried to contain my breasts with my arm as I walked to his desk. My legs shook, each step threatening to send me sprawling face first into the massive wooden surface. Reaching it, I stared back at him over my shoulder.
His attention was focused on his hands. The fingers touched in a steeple, his forearms flat along his legs. He could have been meditating for all I could tell. When he spoke, his voice gave no hint that he had just spent half an hour whipping me into a sexual frenzy.
"Tits and stomach flat against the surface. Fingers around the opposite lip of the desk. Legs spread."
He didn't even glance at me to see if I intended to obey him. I felt his detachment like a cold, wet towel snapped against my face. How could he have me standing there, quivering and ready to do almost anything he asked while he lost none of his composure? He had to not give a shit, had to be pulling my strings like I was some kind of marionette.
His hands separated to grip his knees, his eyes slowly shifting in my direction. I knew I should be moving, getting into position, but I froze. He stood, his gaze hooking mine so that I was helpless to comply. I couldn't unstick.
"Tits down." He took one step toward me.
"Ass up." Another step. "Arms across the desk."
Another, his strides twice as long as mine. "Legs spread!"
When he reached me and I still couldn't move, he spun me around, pushed my chest down and jerked my arms across the desk, his hands molding my fingers around the opposite lip of the surface. He swept his foot right, then left, making sure my thighs were spread to capacity and then he thrust his hips forward so that my mound pressed tightly against the desk's edge.
"What didn't you understand?"
I couldn't get my lips or tongue to work.
He folded his body over mine, his arms across the desk, hands gripping its edge as his muscles constricted to leave me gasping for air.
"Do you still want me to fuck you?"
I buried my face against my arm, my cold flesh muffling my affirmation. Wrapping his hand around my jaw, he forced my h
ead up, turning it so that I had to open my eyes and look at him.
"Do you still want my cock in you?"
I took a slow lick of my lips. I wasn't stalling, my answer was unchanged. It didn't matter that Collin was being rough with me, that I would have chafed at the idea that very morning if someone suggested I would be laid across his desk begging him to take me.
"Yes or no, Mia?" His fingers dented my flesh as he gripped me more tightly. "Say it."
"Yes."
Not satisfied, he gave me a little shake. "Say all of it."
"I want your cock in me. I want you to fuck me." I blinked, fresh tears wetting my cheeks. "Please, Collin."
He released me, his body straightening like a spring. With one hand against the small of my back, he reached along the side of the desk. A small pewter box I'd never seen before had been placed next to the lamp. He flipped its lid back and withdrew a gold foil wrapper. His hands left me completely for the time it took to tear open the condom's package, free his cock and roll the latex down his dick.
I strained to keep hold of the desk while looking over my shoulder, hungry for a glimpse of his exposed cock. He had a magnificent body, kept it battle ready with long hours in the company gym. The few times I had caught him still in his shorts and a tight t-shirt stretched across his chest had fueled a month's worth of wet dreams.
"Head down." He blocked me before I could see anything.
With the condom in place, he bent over me. His fingers knotted in my hair, my head pinioned to the desk as his free hand started to explore my pussy all over again. He slid his fingers into me, my muscles instantly clutching at the invaders, rolling up and down their firm length with an aching need for more. I closed my eyes, promising myself I wouldn't do this again, that when this was over, I would never lose myself like this, not for any man and particularly not for Collin Stark.
"You seem almost ashamed of your body's reaction, Mia."
I opened my eyes, rolled them right to glare up at him. I didn't need him suggesting I should welcome my physical response to his dominating me. This -- draped and dripping, my cunt squeezing and twisting around his fingers -- wasn't who I wanted to be.
