Falling into Black

by Carrie Kelly

  The bulge of his cock pressed into my wet sex, the thin material hardly holding back the thick pounding muscle he hid. Without a word, he pulled my panties aside and slipped a finger over my clit, teasing it into a state of unbelievable arousal.

  My whole body sang with the pleasure of his touch, his lips and hands assaulting me like nothing I’d ever felt before. But it still wasn’t enough. Not when I wanted him inside me -- his thick heat filling me to the brim.

  Steeling my nerves, I reached down and rubbed my hand over the fat head of his concealed member, blindly searching for his zipper.

  He groaned. His face still buried in my chest, and the unshaven edges of his cheeks rough against my smooth skin. Then he looked up at me, his eyes hardly visible in the darkness of the limo.

  “Do you belong to me, Alicia?” he asked in a gruff whisper.

  “Yes,” I answered immediately, without a moment of hesitation.

  He kissed me again, his mouth attacking mine with the same exhilaration that pumped through my veins.

  I’m not sure how he did it, but he shifted his weight and suddenly his body was on top of mine, the limo’s leather seat slick against my back. His lips peppered my thighs with kisses as he pulled down my panties, already dripping with need for him. Then he gripped my ripe flesh, squeezing it between his fingers right before he pulled back a hand and swatted me on my bare ass cheek.

  My whole world narrowed to that moment. The burning sting of his hand colliding with my enlivened body. I twisted my hips, turning over so he could do whatever he liked to my naughty bottom. At that moment I no longer cared what happened just as long as he was the one doing it.

  Another spank ignited my flesh. And another. And another.

  I gasped at each one. The electrifying moment of pain and pleasure titillating my body into a flurry of lust I’d never known.

  “Do you want me to fuck you now?” he growled.

  “Yes,” I moaned, wiggling my ass. I never talked like that -- never squirmed with overwhelming desire like I did at that moment. The leather seat stuck to my cheek, my head pressed into the material at an odd angle, but I didn’t care -- not if he was going to give himself to me.

  Then the thick heat of his cock pressed against my sex, forcing its way inside with deliberate ease. My fingers gripped onto the seat just as he grabbed onto my hips.

  He thrust slowly at first -- the fat head nudging against an intense bundle of nerves my vibrator could never reach. I bit my lip, trying not to scream at each thrilling entrance.

  Dorian Black was fucking me!

  I could hardly think straight. It was all I could do to move my hips in time with his thrusts. The only sound in the limo was his intense breathing, the low guttural moans coming from his lips, and the loud beating of my heart.

  As he thrust faster, my world blurred into nothing but our bodies, slick with rich desire for each other, urging us closer and closer to the inevitable peak of pleasure.

  Suddenly, I moaned and writhed, unable to sit still as the passion of the moment overtook me. The orgasm shook my body from head to toe, shocks of gratification running through my veins like electricity.

  A moment later, the rich heat of his come filled up my gasping pussy, sucking his cock dry with the last of his urgent thrusts. Then the warmth of his body engulfed me, the smell of his cologne and sweat rich in the air. A gentle kiss pressed against my cheek, his arms enveloping me in their muscular hold.

  “We’ve arrived,” the limo driver said from the intercom.

  I blushed at the thought that the driver had heard everything, but I couldn’t bring myself to be embarrassed.

  Not then.

  Not with Mr. Black still buried inside me.

  “You belong to me,” he said, his chest rumbling against my back as he caught his own breath.

  “Yes,” I agreed. I belonged to him -- but what exactly did that mean?

  * * *

  As we walked down the red carpet and into the art fundraiser all eyes were on us. Much to my surprise the paparazzi and photographers still huddled around the entrance in abundance. Of course Mr. Black would arrive fashionably late, but that wasn't what got everybody whispering and pointing.

  It was the chubby nobody hanging on his arm – me.

  After our excursion in the backseat of the limo I was hesitant to just waltz into a fancy event, but what choice did I have?

  Mr. Black helped me pull up my panties and right the pink satin dress over my curvy hips. Walking into a crowd of people all so much wealthier than I was made slightly easier knowing what just happened. Mr. Black wanted me to be his. Only I didn't really know what that meant.

  His girlfriend? His lover? I was already his personal assistant and his date for the night. Well maybe I'd find out later -- if he saw fit to tell me.

  A blush seeped over my cheeks, and I smoothed my damp palms over my dress. Even wearing such finery I knew I didn't fit in. I felt like a ragdoll surrounded by perfectly crafted porcelain dolls. The looks of surprise the other guests gave me showed they felt the same way.

  "Dorian! We hoped you'd arrive soon," a refined middle-aged woman said and took his hand.

  Dorian. She called him by his first name.

  Mr. Black gave her a tight smile and nodded. "I had another affair to attend, but I did RSVP."

  The huge diamond necklace she wore sparkled in the artificial light. "Yes, of course. You are such a busy man. Is this a friend of yours?" she asked and her voice got shrill. Disapprovingly shrill.

  "My date actually. Alicia Jones," he said and wrapped his arm around me, digging his fingers into my flesh. The heat of his touch reminded me of our time in the limo.

  "Oh," the woman said just like my mother did when I claimed I wanted a bullfrog as a pet.

  Great. I'm the bullfrog.

  "I spotted Sylvia earlier, I just assumed –"

  "You assumed wrong," Mr. Black growled, his eyes narrowing.

  "I didn't mean to imply anything, Dorian. You know how the social circle gets. Everyone's so curious."

  Was Sylvia the blonde woman I met the other day? The woman who claimed she was the only one who could give Mr. Black what he needed. And his friends didn't even know they broke up?

  What the hell did you get yourself into, Alicia?

  "Yes, well it's nobody's damn business but my own. If you'll excuse me," he said and pulled me away.

  I glanced at Mr. Black's perfectly handsome face – his straight nose, smoldering eyes, and dark wavy hair.

  What was he hiding?

  "Who’s Sylvia?" I asked. Part of my mind knew I should keep quiet, but I was still riding high on the thrill of our lovemaking and my earlier glass of champagne.

  He sighed heavily and squeezed my arm. "Later. Right now let's get through this evening."

  Was he really going to tell me? If so I'd just have to be patient. I nodded, and he lifted two glasses of champagne from a passing tray.

  More alcohol – just what I needed.

  We wandered around the fundraiser for the better part of an hour snacking on hors d'oeuvres and sipping champagne as he chatted with acquaintances and business associates. It all seemed like a rush of fine art and fancy clothes. If I had more courage I would've sneaked away, but I clung helplessly to Mr. Black's arm and kept an eye out for the blonde woman.

  What was I going to do if I found her?

  Confront her?

  Tell her Mr. Black asked me to be his?

  I didn't know, but I could at least warn him that I saw her. A distinct feeling in my gut told me she was bad news.

  Of course, my best-laid plans failed miserably in typical Alicia fashion.

  I went to the bathroom and when I walked back out to the art museum's floor Mr. Black was nowhere to be seen. It's not like he could blend into the crowd – someone as strikingly gorgeous as he was stood out.

  I peeked around the corner and spotted him and the blonde woman talking at the end of the hallway. They’d gone off alone
together to have a private conversation. My heart lurched into my throat and my stomach sank. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

  Approach or keep my distance?

  The woman glanced in my direction and her cold blue gaze settled on me. I felt just like a rabbit frozen in headlights and unable to move. Her red lips curved into the cruelest smile I've ever seen.

  A terrible, mocking smile.

  He's mine, it said. Why would he want a fat nothing like you?

  In that moment I realized I had a decision to make. I could either march up to Mr. Black and demand to know what was going on; slap the blonde woman's pretty face and tell her to step away from my man, or I could sink into the shadows and pretend I hadn't seen anything.

  Or I could settle on something in between the two.

  I chose option number three.

  Every click of my black heels reverberated through the quiet hallway. Their conversation turned from muffled whispers into words I could actually understand the closer I got.

  "It’s over," Mr. Black said and finally looked in my direction. His eyes burned over my body. I'd never seen him so angry before, but was it directed at her or me?

  The woman grabbed his arm and pulled him so he turned back to her. Then she pressed her lips to his.

  I stopped in the middle of the hallway and stared. It was like time stood still in that moment.

  How was this my life? I was just supposed to be Dorian Black's personal assistant – not stuck in the middle of some twisted love triangle I didn't even understand.

  Suddenly Mr. Black grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away so roughly she fell to the ground.

  "I said it's over, Sylvia!" his voice boomed, making me jump.

  Turning back to me he marched us both out of the art museum and into the waiting limo without a word. Several people stared as we left, but no one tried to stop us. I didn't question his hasty exit. He knew what he was doing.

  We rode down the street for several minutes in awkward silence before he finally spoke.

  "Sylvia was an old business partner," he started and looked out the window at the passing city lights.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. He left with me so that had to mean something, right? "Was she your girlfriend?"

  He let out a short bark of laughter. "She wished. We worked closely for several years but nothing more than business. Sylvia sabotaged every relationship I had in that timeframe. She convinced almost everyone at that fundraiser we were an item, although we never really were. When I found out what she’d done I obviously ended our business arrangement, but she's managed to weasel her way back in through different means."

  I stared at him with my mouth agape. He never fooled around with Sylvia – a tall gorgeous blonde?

  "You never even kissed her?" I asked.

  He glanced at me sideways. "No. Why is that hard to believe? She's not my type," he said and put a strong hand on my rounded thigh.

  Desire surged through my body at his touch.

  Would he punish me for asking that? God, I hoped so.

  "I'm your type? I didn't think billionaires went for plain Jane chubby girls. At least not outside of romantic comedies."

  Mr. Black furrowed his brow. "I don't. I go for gorgeous curvy women, just like you, Alicia." His hand slipped over the dark pink satin until it rested comfortably on my hip, singeing my flesh with lust.

  Staring into his serious face I didn't catch the hint of a lie. "You think I'm gorgeous?"

  He carefully pushed a curl off my forehead and ran a large, powerful finger over my cheek. "Yes. And you should too."

  "Is that why you wanted me to be yours?" I asked in a small voice. Being so close to him, the overwhelming scent of his cologne and the memory of his body smashed against mine -- his cock buried inside my eager sex -- made it difficult to speak normally.

  "It’s one reason. Do you want to know the other?"

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. His lips brushed the sensitive skin on my ear and my stomach flurried with excitement.

  "You’re smart, talented, you love my punishments and, most importantly, you can stand your ground," he said and trailed his hand over my shoulder.

  The heat of his touch made me melt further against his solid, muscular chest. He wound his arm around me, the firmness of his bicep tensing against my neck as he held me close.

  The limo pulled up to his penthouse a few minutes later and much to my surprise Mr. Black pulled me out with him.

  "Oh, do you want the dress back tonight?"

  He raised a sculpted black eyebrow and chuckled. "The dress is yours to keep, Alicia. And you're spending the night with me. Any objections?"

  My heart slammed in my chest.

  "No," I squeaked and bit my bottom lip.

  Why was I nervous all of a sudden?

  He'd already enticed my body in more ways than I imagined possible. Was spending the night really going to be such a big deal? Well, after what he told me maybe it was. Before it was just sex – meaningless sex.

  Now I realized it actually meant something to him.

  I meant something to him.

  We made our way back to his penthouse, Mr. Black's arm gripping my shoulder seductively the entire time. His fingers scorched my eager flesh and my panties dripped with need for his talented touch.

  What would he do to me this time?

  Could anything be better than our romp in the back of the limo?

  With Mr. Black anything was possible.

  Needless to day, the ride up the elevator seemed to take an eternity.

  As soon as we stepped inside the door his fingers sizzled down my back, and he yanked down my zipper. The smooth satin dress spilled open, revealing my lacy strapless bra and the urgent mounds of my breasts. His hands fell to my hips, gripping my fleshy curves. With an impatient tug the satin slipped over my skin and pooled at my feet.

  Then he growled in frustration and lifted me over his shoulder.

  "Mr. Black," I gasped. No one had carried me like that since I was a child – I didn't even know it would still be possible.

  "Call me Dorian, Alicia," he said and spanked my lacy bottom.

  The sting of his hand wormed its way under my flesh further delighting my senses. "Even at work?"

  He chuckled and his chest rumbled against my thighs. "Yes, even at work. Especially when a whole group of employees and board members are present. I want everyone to know you belong to me."

  My body tingled.

  He wanted people at work to know about us? To know I belonged to him? That he chose me?

  That was more than I was used to by far. Of the few boyfriends I’d had most of them wouldn't even introduce me to their friends let alone their coworkers. Maybe that was the difference between dating a college boy and dating an actual man.

  Dorian's powerful strides took us to his bedroom where he promptly dropped me on the bed. I made an 'oomph' sound just like women in the movies and looked up at his gorgeous face.

  His blue eyes smoldered as they took in my nearly naked form. His lips curved into a half smile, and he ran his tongue over them slowly, like he tasted the moment.

  "Look at you," he said and wrapped his fingers around my ankles. With delicate grace he eased his hands further up my legs. The teasing strokes sent waves of want over my body, and I surged beneath his powerful touch.

  "What do you want, Alicia?" he purred and peppered my thighs with kisses.

  "You," I moaned and spread my legs wide for him.

  "Mmm, I like the sound of that," he groaned and gripped my panties.

  I lifted my bottom and he yanked the material off my curvy hips. As he tossed the lacy bundle to the floor, he buried his nose between my fleshy thighs. "You smell like a dream."

  A blush seeped over my cheeks. No one ever said that about me before, but I wasn't going to complain.

  Sitting back on his heels, Dorian pulled the tie from his neck and unbuttoned his shirt. The perfectly smooth muscles of his
chest bulged out to greet me, and I swallowed the lump in my throat; he was absolutely perfect in every way.

  Slowly, he tossed his shirt to the ground and crawled over me, the tie still in his hands.

  "I haven't forgotten about your punishment,” he said and pinned my hands above my head.

  Excitement surged through my body like electricity, anticipation rising across my flesh. "What punishment?" I breathed and caught his rich scent.

  Dorian didn't answer. Instead he smiled and wrapped the tie around my hands, securing it to his bed frame. When he finished he leaned back to examine his handy work.

  "I like you like this."

  I stared at him, unsure what to say. If I spoke it could ruin the moment – shatter this perfect dream come reality.

  Thankfully, he didn't expect me to utter a word. His body hovered above mine, his muscular thighs holding my hips captive beneath him. The bulge of his biceps flexed as he leaned forward and smashed his lips into mine.

  The heat of his kiss and the musk of his body overwhelmed me. Parting my lips I gave in to the kiss. Our tongues danced together like they were old partners, and he nipped and pulled at my bottom lip, suckling it until I gasped in delight.

  His powerful hands roamed over my chest and yanked down my bra. My breasts bounced free of their confinement; my flesh feverishly hot and oversensitive, I waited for Dorian's next move.

  Lips traversed down my collarbone and across my heaving breasts. His tongue paved a trail of unspeakable lust over my body, each lick exciting me into further ecstasy. Then his mouth clamped over my hardened nubs, the edge of his teeth pulling and biting until I writhed beneath him.

  The wet tip of his tongue teased my stomach, lapping my skin lower and lower until his hot breath blew across my weeping sex. The first flick of his hungry tongue weakened my knees, and I gasped his name.

  “Mmm, say that again,” he groaned and slipped a long finger inside my eager hole as he lips danced across my clit.

  “Oh, Dorian,” I cried with each sinful thrust of his fingers, each lick of his rough tongue. Fire rose across my skin, burned in my stomach and sex at each delightful taste.

  How was he so good at this?