by Christa Wick
Not once in all my life!
"Whatever truth you kept from me, it's not as big as the secret you've been hiding from yourself." He pulled his fingers out, gripped the base of his shaft and rubbed the fat crown against my opening. "You need this more than you'll ever admit."
His hips made a little forward push, his girth wrenching a moan from me as my pussy stretched to accommodate him. He pulled out, my needy whimper at his retreat shattering the last of my façade.
Collin was right. I needed someone like him and hadn't even realized it.
"I could take you any way I want right now." He pushed back in, a little harder, a little deeper. "On your knees choking on my cock, bound spread eagle to my desk, a switch slapping along your soft thighs and swollen pussy."
He pushed all the way in, my spine arching in welcome, my breasts leaving the desk's surface until he placed his palm between my shoulders and pushed me down. "I could take you impassive, rough, my hands around your throat and you'd come back for more, dripping, aching."
He pressed his chest against my back, his hands circling my wrists as his lips touched my neck. His breath hot and moist against my flesh, he kissed me. Far from rough, he slid deeper into me then withdrew until just the fat head remained hooked inside my channel. His mouth tracked left to the other side of my throat. He licked a line up to my ear, his hips dancing a little circle that kept his engorged tip dragging side to side against a new sweet spot until I danced with him.
He pushed back in, the broad head butting against my cervix. "You've never been this satisfied."
Back out, his retreat making me sob and clench until I was certain his cock would not completely abandon me.
"Shhh…baby." He kissed the side of my mouth, evading my attempt to turn into the kiss. He forced his hand between the desk and my mound, squeezing and rubbing that hard pearl between my labia until I could no longer breathe.
Collin rocked against me, his mouth still teasing the corner of my lips with the promise of a real kiss. "You're holding me so tightly, Mia."
I couldn't relax the muscles, the spasms of my cunt his to control. He straightened, took possession of my hips with both hands and started thrusting inside me at a faster pace. He slowed suddenly. I heard the air leave him before he sucked more in and thrust deep inside me. He followed with another achingly slow retreat.
Still holding onto the desk's edge for dear life, I twisted until I could look at his face. His eyes were shut, the thick dark lashes sweeping against his cheek. He had sucked in the left side of his bottom lip, his teeth pinning it in place.
Fierce and beautiful, I doubted many women had seen him like this. The thought squeezed at my chest, my pussy contracting in sympathy.
Collin froze, fingers digging into my padded hips before he gave a little shake of his head and plunged back into me. His eyes opened, catching me in the act of watching him. I felt the tug of a deep connection between us but knew it was only my imagination.
His thumbs stroked the sides of my bottom as he watched me in return. He released his bottom lip, his nostrils flaring as his cock retreated along my channel. He hit that sweet spot, teased it over and over until my eyes rolled back in my head and I could no longer maintain my hold on the desk. A quiver rolled through me, followed by a crushing wave of release as Collin sank deep and held, his cock jerking inside me with the full force of his climax.
He finished with a few shallow pumps that had me moaning for more. He pulled out and walked away, his long, powerful legs quickly carrying him to his private washroom. I didn't know whether I had permission to stand and my cheeks burned with the knowledge that I wouldn't move until he told me I could.
I heard Collin leave the bathroom and move around his office, going first to the corner I had stood in then the couch before he placed my clothes on his desk.
"You can't leave looking like this." He landed softly in his chair. "Use my bathroom to clean up."
Not speaking, I took my clothes and walked a broken line from his desk. I closed the door, pressed my back against it and shut my eyes, afraid to look at myself in the mirror until I had my emotions under control. His tone had been casually dismissive. I felt like I had a knife buried in my chest, that I was dead but entirely too stupid to grasp that fact.
Cautiously, I opened my eyes. My lips were slightly purpled, bruised from my futile attempts to control my body's response to Stark. A dark circle of mascara ringed my eyes from where I had cried. My hair was a disaster, the curls in complete disarray around my startled face. No wonder he had dismissed me from his presence so easily. I looked like a complete mess!
I moved with an aching slowness, washing my face first before running wet fingers through my hair to tame it. I turned to my thighs next, trying to wash any evidence of the encounter away. The attempt was in vain. His touch had branded my skin, his fingerprints burned deep into my flesh to mark me as his.
Ignoring the sensation, I picked through my clothes. My underwear weren't in the pile but Stark had rendered them useless when he ripped them from me. I stepped into the skirt, tugged it up my hips so I wouldn't have to see my pussy with its still swollen lips and wet tangle of pubic hair while I finished dressing. I put the bra on next then the wrinkled linen shirt, my hands mismatching the buttons with their holes the first few tries.
Leaving the bathroom, I told myself I wouldn't look at his desk. I would march out of the office, grab my purse and go. I had no other personal effects at Stark's company, hadn't felt settled enough in my new position to bring anything in.
My plan didn't even make it past the threshold of the bathroom door. I looked straight at him, stalling as he pushed a thick letter-size envelope across his desk.
"Take this."
I approached the desk, my hands wrapped protectively around my stomach. The shape of the contents inside the envelope suggested it held a stack of money. Unless they were all ones, it was too much for severance pay, especially when he had every reason to fire me.
It also was too little if he worried I might sue the company.
I gave a hard shake of my head and spun on my heels. I made it halfway to the double steel doors before he spoke again.
"They're locked, Mia. Take the envelope."
I was breathing hard, as furious as I was hurt by his rejection. I continued on my path, only stopping once I was a few inches from the door. "Unlock these and don't treat me like any more of a whore than you already have."
My body started shaking all over again at the sound of him rising from his chair.
He stepped behind me, his arm extending across my shoulder to press the envelope against the door. He thumbed the edge of the package, his head angling down so that his lips were a centimeter or less from my ear. "Just what do you think this is for?"
I had no intention of dignifying his question with an answer. We both knew why he was giving me money. Services rendered at the end of his dick.
"Janice is retiring at the end of the week, won't be in again until her good-bye party." He pressed his face against my hair, the gesture almost sweetly intimate but I knew otherwise. "You need a better wardrobe if you're going to fill her position. This is an advance on your new salary."
Incredulous, I turned my head to look at him, our lips almost touching from how closely he stood next to me. His gaze dropped to my mouth, his eyelids lowering until they were almost shut. I could feel the slow, deep breaths he took whisper across my lips and forced myself not to lean closer, to bridge that small distance in offering.
"Are you serious?"
Collin nodded, slow and deliberate. He lowered his hand and wrapped my fingers around the envelope. "You'll run the office and travel with me on the same trips Janice would attend."
Reaching across my stomach, he grabbed my opposite hip and turned my body until we stood face to face. "If you're lying to me, you better take this and run."
My grip tightened on the money. He still didn't trust me. Likely, he never would. That made us even.
I knew I would be an idiot to trust Collin Stark. Even now, he could be playing me.
Collin closed the space between us and kept on pressing forward until he had my back flat against the door. His hand captured the side of my face, his thumb sliding along until it reached the center of my chin. His thumb pressed down to force my lips apart.
For one foolish second, I thought he intended to kiss me before casting me out for the night.
He tilted his head, his cheek brushing against mine as he whispered in my ear. "Know this -- if you run, there's no place on earth I won't find you."
With that, Stark released me, his hand dipping briefly into his pocket to press the door's remote as he walked away.
Chapter Two
Collin
Releasing the mail onto the side table, Mia walked on unsteady legs to the corner. Part of the wobble undoubtedly stemmed from my rough command and her very real fear I would fire her, but I also blamed the sexy open-toed pumps she had on. And those were entirely her fault.
She had started the month in sensible flat-heeled shoes and skirts that fell mid-calf, their loose, voluminous folds hiding the soft, plentiful curves of her body. The blouses, too, had been all business that first week, not a hint of cleavage or even a forearm on display. By the end of week two, my mornings were getting a little brighter as her skirts got tighter and I had my first glimpse at the pale valley between her breasts.
That flash of skin propelled me to review the security archives. I noted the shift in clothing was a completely new development. Given the five month sample of her wardrobe, she hadn't dressed down for the interview or that first week.
I paid even closer attention to the footage from when she first started serving as my junior secretary. Instinct told me that the pretty little addition to my office hoped to catch someone's eye. I wanted to know the identity of the lucky man. But the cameras told me nothing. She was all business outside my office. There was no desk or cubicle she lingered at when running errands on my behalf.
So the man existed outside the company where my cameras didn't reach. I called my second-in-command, Trent Kane, into my office with an unusual command.
Tell me about Mia.
Mia, the pretty, voluptuous twenty-something with a first-class brain and only an associate's degree. Mia, with her dark hair, green eyes and increasingly revealing clothes.
Mia, who had taken up residence in my dreams, where she appeared in no clothes at all.
Shaking the image from my head, I clicked a few buttons on the remote at my desk. First, I locked us in and the rest of the world out. She could leave if she so desired. But, whether she was a spy or a desperate job seeker who had left her last three years in college and two degrees off her resume, I would make sure she wanted to stay.
And if she stayed, I was going to fuck her.
The thought was a shot of pure adrenaline to my cock. The semi-erection I'd been sporting from the moment Mia stood alone outside my door mushroomed to its full length and thickness. Swallowing, I focused on protocol, closing the drapes and then slowly turning the lights off one by one. She flexed and wiggled with each light lost and I both thanked and cursed the long-dead bastard who had invented high heels as I watched their effect on her luscious ass as she moved.
Damn, I wanted my hands wrapped around that full bottom as I plumbed the depths of her moist pussy.
At least I hoped it would be moist. I wasn't entirely confident on that point. Trent's investigation had turned up no lovers or potential love interests, just an exemplary academic background. Even as the omission from her resume worried me, the lack of potential rivals made me hope I had been looking too far afield for why her skirts had gotten tighter and shorter and the necklines low enough to make me drool in the morning coffee she delivered to my desk.
Mia wanted me to notice her. Now I had to find out if the desire was her own or that of a shadow employer -- some competitor or maybe an entity opposed to my clients.
Sliding a desk drawer open, I removed a blindfold.
As much as I wanted to rise from my desk and begin the second phase of interrogation, I made myself wait a few more minutes, ensuring her senses would be heightened beyond any level she had experienced by the time I touched her.
Making use of the time, I looked over Trent's file on Mia. She had grown up in North Carolina. Her father had died before her fourth birthday. Her mother had remarried a few years later, but died a few weeks after Mia graduated high school. Plans to attend Duke University had been abandoned in favor of two years at community college.
Running the blindfold through my fingers, I stood and started my approach. My senses had sharpened in the near dark and I could smell the pleasant odors of her distress before I had crossed half the distance that separated us. It wasn't fear plugging my nose or coating my tongue but arousal.
My steps fell more heavily as I forced my feet to take a slower pace. I wanted to be on her, in her, exploring just how deep the submissive streak I had noticed in her these last four weeks went. I wanted to test how tight and hot and wet she was and how much her body's reaction surprised her. I didn't think Mia knew she had a submissive side. My balls ached at the idea of introducing the sharp, confident Mia who had never met a task she couldn't handle to the Mia who wanted nothing more than to be draped across my desk, her bottom red from the discipline I was about to deliver as her sweet cunt wept for more.
"Don't jump, Mia."
I brought the blindfold up, letting the fabric brush against her softer-than-silk cheek before I covered her eyes and tied the knot. At the sound of her surprised gasp, I leaned into Mia, her generous bottom enfolding my erection. Her body made a little dip and I thought for a second she would pass out. I pressed harder against her, crowding her closer to the corner walls so she would remain upright.
"You left something off your resume, didn't you?"
She stuttered a "yes" at the same time her ass cheeks squeezed at my dick. My hands dropped automatically to her hips to keep her from repeating the motion and unraveling my control. I leaned in to ask my next question gently but right into her ear.
My mistake -- she squeezed again, almost killing my restraint. My brain clicked into auto-pilot, the questions coming out but the answers irrelevant for the moment. I would watch her responses tonight before I deleted the video.
Before then, I would touch her, make her come, spank that full round ass for putting me in this state and for the omission, and fuck her. Definitely, I would fuck her. I wouldn't be able to deal rationally with her until I had experienced her quivering around my cock.
I circled one arm around her waist and gripped her hip more roughly, pulling her to me. We were getting closer to the point where her instinct would be to run, to ask for release. To promise she would go and never come back. No way in hell could I allow that.
"Who are you really working for?" I asked.
The question provoked another physical response, her ass moving in synchronicity with her mouth as she answered. Her bottom all but stroking my dick, I moved my hand lower until my fingertips waited just above her mound. Their placement triggered another physical response, her body arching, so that all of that lush, lush ass pressed hard against my cock, balls and lower stomach.
She wanted me in her, fucking her, even if she might not be ready to admit it. I gave myself a few more seconds of that delicious wiggle of hers before I denied her answer, refuted her subsequent explanation, then reminded her over and over how she had six months to tell me the truth and had lied to my face during the interview last month. Lied and I hadn't realized it because I'd been lost in those green eyes, the fall of dark ash hair down her shoulder, the smile and a body I wanted to sink into.
She trembled as the interrogation progressed, her body a conflict of mixed signals. She was afraid, yet she also was aroused, that arousal mortifying her because she hadn't, at twenty-six years of age, ever explored this part of her nature.
It didn't matter how many cocks had pos
sessed her -- in this one aspect, she was a virgin, shaking in my arms, the dance of her hips stroking my cock, making me have to fight to breathe, let alone ask her the questions and process her responses.
"Please," she entreated. "I needed the job, need to keep it. I've done well, too--"
"No shit."
Damn it! The last thing I needed was to ease up on her. Still, I let her go and took a step back. I couldn't think while I held her, knowing another few inches down and my hand would be covering her pussy, that I could manipulate the flesh through the fabric of her skirt and give her the night's first orgasm.
"Maybe you are telling the truth, Mia."
She nodded "I am. Please let me explain it better."
No. I damn well would not let her explain it better. Her tone had changed, a little of her confidence coming back, just enough to wake that sharp mind she possessed from the haze I had put it in. If I retreated now, I might lose all ground.
"Drop your skirt." I watched as she drew her hands close to her chest in refusal. I smiled, felt a moment's guilt, but pushed it down. "You have a very short timeframe in which to save your job, Mia."
I brought her hands down to her sides. "I have to know I can trust you, have to bring you to a point where you're incapable of lying."
That point was a screaming orgasm or ten. That point was drenched in sweat and her own juices. That point was at the tip of my cock as I buried it all the way inside her dense, hot folds.
I released her hands. "Take off your skirt or leave."
I watched, relieved, as she started to comply.
Fuck. She had no idea how sexy she was at that moment, the tremble in her hands as she fought to unfasten the skirt, the slow, unintentional tease as she fumbled with the zipper or how she had to wiggle and dodge to get the close-fitting skirt down the full hips.
Blood rushed from my head to swell my cock as the skirt hit the floor. "Step out and spread your legs."