Black Mark Series Book 1: Black Mark's Resistance

by Ebony Olson

God yes!

  “No.” I sighed, ignoring that devil inside me who unfurled for the first time in weeks. “Shit. I can’t be thinking about this right now.”

  Darius smirked. “Would it help if another woman sucked me off in front of you, Mora. Would you be less tempted then?”

  “I’m not tempted!” I snapped. “It’s just...” been a very long time. I took a deep calming breath. Darius didn’t know I wasn’t seeing Jasper anymore. “...been a very stressful few days,” I covered.

  “Tracey can take care of you instead if you prefer, Mora? She is bisexual and happy to put her mouth to use wherever it is needed.”

  “Crossing that line, Mr. Rafal,” I warned.

  “I disagree, Mora. Tracey has happily serviced clients and friends of mine before. It is her job.”

  “Wait. You hire her just to suck off you or your clients?” I wasn’t disgusted. More intrigued.

  “Yes, and she doesn’t just suck. She fucks too. She also has qualifications in massage therapy.” Darius watched me carefully, his eyes sparkling. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to rile me up or being honest.

  “So her service is well rounded,” I replied evenly.

  “Very.” Darius stood up. “Tracey?” The busty brunette instantly sashayed toward us. “Mora needs a relaxing massage. Take care of her for me please.”

  “Of course, Mr. Rafal,” Tracey purred. “This way, Miss Ellis.”

  I went to protest. Darius gave me a stern look. “I am ordering you to have a massage, Mora. You are stressed. Let Tracey take care of that for you.” Without another word Darius walked back to his seat and focused back on his laptop.

  With a sigh, I followed Tracey to the massage table bolted to the plane behind my chair. I hadn’t recognized what the bench was when I first came on board as I was too focused on not freaking out.

  “Remove your clothes please, Miss Ellis.” Tracey smiled as she heated some massage oil.

  With a look over my shoulder to ensure Darius wasn’t watching, I slipped out of my jacket and unzipped my pinafore. Letting it drop to the ground, I slid my stay-up stockings down my legs. Tracey watched with a smile. She indicated my underwear. I swallowed and unhooked my bra before sliding my underwear down my legs.

  Tracey patted the table. I lay down on my stomach and Tracey poured the hot oil on me. I had to admit, by the time she’d finished my back, I was a lot more relaxed. She was very good with her hands. She toweled the excess oil off when she’d finished the back of my body.

  “Roll over when you are ready please, Miss Ellis.”

  I rolled onto my back and Tracey covered my torso with a warmed towel, my eyes with a scented eye pack. I realized the bench itself was also heated. Damn, I could get used to such luxuries.

  Tracey started at my feet and worked her way up. After my hands and arms she moved behind my head and started massaging my chest. I was just zoning out when her hands slipped under the towel and cupped my breasts. She massaged them, then, pushing the towel lower, she massaged my ribs below my breasts.

  A moment later her hands were back on my fun bags.

  “You have lovely muscle tone,” Tracey commented. “And such lovely firm breasts. Are they natural?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mine aren’t.” Tracey grinned. “Cost me a year’s wage, but worth it.”

  Tracey continued to massage my rib cage and breasts and I lay back and enjoyed the attention. I bit my lip and resisted squirming under the attentions of her hands. After several minutes, Tracey pulled the towel back up and moved to my thighs.

  “Butterfly your legs for me. I’m going to massage your inner thigh and it’s much easier to reach like this,” Tracey advised, assisting me to bend my knee out to the side. “Impressive flexibility. Are you a dancer?”

  “No.”

  Tracey’s fingers started working up the inside of my inner thigh. She did both legs and then adjusting her position and the towel, her hands scooped across my lower abdomen and started massaging my pubic mound gently. Her hands slid to either side of my labia and she massaged that area where your inner leg joins the torso. I relaxed into her touch, months of tension being drawn out as she worked her fingers.

  “You store all your tension in your groin,” Tracey murmured. “I was wondering why I couldn’t find any in your shoulders. You must use sex as your stress release for all your tension to coil here.”

  I didn’t respond. I was too busy turning into a puddle of mush under her fingers. She didn’t touch my sex, just massaged all around it. When she massaged above my clitoral hood my body coiled like a viper.

  Tracey laughed. “Honey, you have a lot of stress stored here.” She chuckled quietly. “Let’s get that taken care of.”

  Her hands disappeared from my body for a moment. I heard the sound of the hot oil bottle being squeezed. Felt the warm oil dribble over my folds. A solitary strong finger followed the trail, separating my labia and inserting itself slowly inside me. Tracey’s fingers felt bigger and stronger. She stroked inside me with that one large finger and I felt the pleasure pit inside me yawn open.

  That finger stroked me till I relaxed a little more, and then she slipped a second finger in. I gripped the side of the table at the sudden full sensation. With sight out of commission my other senses heightened and my sense of smell really picked up on the floral notes of Tracey’s perfume, the sweet almond of the massage oil, and then men’s aftershave.

  I inhaled deeply smelling Darius across the plane. The devil inside me was somersaulting at the thought of his fingers being inside of me, stroking me to pleasure. With that simple addition, I came. My back bowed and I opened my mouth, no sound escaping as my body bucked and pulsed.

  The eye pillow started to slip and Tracey’s free hand covered it to hold it in place. She held the mask there while she removed her fingers, wiping over my labia before moving the towel to cover me. Finally, she took her hand from the eye pillow and whispered in my ear. “I bet you feel better now.”

  Better was not the word I would use. I felt wonderful. So relaxed it wasn’t funny.

  “When you are ready, pop yourself up and redress,” Tracey purred, removing the eye pillow.

  “Thank you, Tracey.” I clasped the towel to the front of me and sat up slowly. I was slightly unsteady. My eyes still adjusting to the light and blood flow returning to my head.

  Tracey looked at my eyes. “Wow, you really needed that, didn’t you?”

  I blushed. “You are very skilled with your hands.”

  Tracey chuckled. “If you think I’m good you should have Dare give you a rub down. That boy offers heaven with his touch.”

  Her casualness with Darius interested me. She was older than Darius, but not by much.

  “Have you worked for Mr. Rafal long?” I asked casually, watching her clean up. I slid off the table and pulled on my underwear so she could clean down the table.

  “Since he became someone. We’ve been friends since college. We worked together till he finished his degree and then when his company started becoming known, he employed me to take care of Nahum. I manage that, and when he’s flying, I fly with him,” Tracey divulged quietly.

  “Nahum? I’ve never heard of him.”

  Tracey looked over at me unsure. “It’s not a he. It’s a place, several places actually. Nahum was Dare’s first business venture. It gave him the money to start Lynwood.” Tracey turned to assess me. Her eyes flicked back to where Darius sat talking on his phone. She lowered her voice. “Look, you probably shouldn’t mention that. I thought as his P.A. you would know.”

  “It’s okay. I won’t say anything,” I reassured.

  She tilted her head looking me over. An intelligence I’d missed earlier shined back. “You’re not what I expected. When he first told me about you I expected a prim and proper little princess.”

  I grinned. “Prim and proper have never been used in the sentence describing my personality.”

&n
bsp; Tracey smiled. “I can see that.” She winked and walked away. Tracey sauntered to where Darius sat at his laptop.

  “You’re such a naughty boy,” she purred. I strained to hear her. She picked up his hand before sucking two of his fingers into her mouth. “Hmm, that tastes good.”

  “Shh,” Darius hushed her quietly.

  “Your turn now?” Tracey raised an eyebrow. “I can see you need it.”

  Darius shook his head. “No, thank you, Tracey.”

  Tracey shrugged and made her way to the staff area. I turned my attention back to getting dressed. I zipped up my pinafore and sat down to put my stay-ups back on when Darius appeared next to me. He watched me settle the first stocking into place at the top of my thigh.

  “Feel better?”

  I swallowed. “Yes. Thank you.”

  Darius took one of my stay-ups and readied it. He held it for me to place my foot into and slowly slid it up my leg. His touch sent sparks through my body. The devil inside smiled and started dancing to his tune.

  Directly in my line of sight was his groin. His hard rigid cock was causing a tent effect in his pants. The desire to release his monster and let him play with my devil was too much. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

  I gasped as his finger brushed my upper thigh. “Line, Mr. Rafal.”

  “If you just came you would not still be reacting like this to my touch.”

  “I don’t work like that. With foreplay orgasms, I’m still left wanting.”

  Darius withdrew his hands. “You are not satisfied until you get plowed?”

  I blushed and slipped off the table. “Again, Mr. Rafal. Line.”

  “You intrigue me, Mora. Is it so wrong that I try and understand you better?”

  I met his eyes. “If that was just the case, no. Right now, however, your monster is trying to escape his confines, which makes this not so much about psychology, but lust. Therefore, line.”

  “Mr. Rafal, we are starting our descent into Munich. If you could take your seat please?” The actual flight attendant asked.

  I moved to my seat and belted myself in for landing. Darius moved to his, closing his laptop and packing it away. This was going to be a very long weekend.

  ***

  We arrived at the hotel where the convention was being held just after eleven. Darius went to check us in while I collected our bags from the driver—my standard cabin bag, and Darius had one of those professional suit pack bags with a trolley case. It allowed room to pack important things like toiletries while keeping his suit wrinkle free.

  By the time I walked inside, Darius had our room keys. He relieved me of his bag and I followed him to the elevator. Once the elevator doors closed Darius took a deep breath.

  “Here, look at this.” Darius shoved his phone at me.

  It was an email confirming two rooms booked in Darius’s name requesting side-by-side rooms. “Okay?” I handed the phone back.

  “I wanted you to see that before I told you they messed up my reservation,” Darius began. The elevator opened and he led the way down a corridor. “They did not book a second room for you.” Darius stopped in front of a door and looked at me.

  “But they fixed that up, right?” I asked unhappily. I had a feeling where this was going.

  “The hotel is booked out for the conference, Mora. There is no other room to give you. We will need to share.” Darius slid his key into the lock and pushed open the door. He walked immediately into the bedroom and disappeared.

  I stood in the middle of the living room staring at the massive bed, the focal point of what I had to admit was a stunning suite. It was situated at the top of the corner tower, and held a fabulous circular bedroom surrounded by five windows offering one-eighty-degree views of the city’s enchanting red roofs and ornate spires. The bedroom contained a king bed that I was going to share with Darius. Yes, I’d shared a bed with him previously, but that was before my birthday.

  The rounded sliding doors allowed the bedroom to be closed off from the adjacent living room, which was furnished with a large sofa, three armchairs and a desk fashioned from cherrywood. I considered sleeping on the sofa; it would have to be a safer choice.

  “Mora?” Darius called.

  With a deep breath, I followed his voice. I turned to the side, and stepped through a door into the elegant marble bathroom. It boasted a separate walk-in shower, deep soaking bath and access through a walk-in wardrobe to the bedroom. Yet again, that giant bed dominated my view. That was until Darius stepped into the bathroom in just his boxers.

  “It is late. Unpack and get into bed. You have not really slept the past two nights.”

  Walking past me, Darius turned on the taps to the shower. Without a thought to me still being in the room he dropped his boxers and stepped under the water.

  I watched that hot water run over his nude muscular body and groaned. I was only made worse when I realized his gorgeous monster was growing thick and hard, standing at attention.

  Darius wiped the water from his face and met my eyes. I watched as his hand took his monster in hand and he started stroking himself. Darius watched me watch him, my feet rooted to the spot, unable to look away.

  “Mora, go to bed,” Darius ordered.

  “I’m sort of captivated right this second,” I explained meeting his eyes. It’s like he held me captive with his gaze.

  Darius pumped his cock. “Do you want this, Mora?”

  “Yes,” I answered honestly before I could help it.

  “Then come over here.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Because of the line?” Darius guessed.

  “Because of the line,” I agreed.

  Darius sighed. “Then go to bed, Mora, because if you stand there another minute I am going to pull you into this shower and spend the night doing bad things to you. Things which will cross more than just your professional line.”

  I swallowed. “Like what?” Okay, I probably shouldn’t have asked, but my line didn’t count out masturbating thinking of Darius, and I am not going to admit how many times that happened over the last month.

  Darius grinned. Releasing his cock, he put a hand on either side of the shower opening, showing himself off beautifully. Damn it, the look in his eye told me that he knew exactly how good he looked standing like that.

  “Have you ever had a man cum in your ass, Mora?”

  My eyes went wide. He had to be kidding. That monster couldn’t fit in my mouth. I’d struggle to have him in my clutch. There was no way he was going to fit up the back passage.

  “No.” I closed my eyes and exhaled. Pulling strength from deep inside, and trust me, it took a lot of strength, I turned my back on Darius and walked back out to the living room. I was definitely sleeping on the lounge tonight.

  I opened my cabin case expecting to find my pajamas, only, they weren’t there. “You have got to be kidding me,” I growled in frustration.

  I swear I’d packed my night shirt in. I remember distinctly folding and packing it so it was right on top. Then I took my bag down to the foyer, and left it ready for Clark to collect.

  Huffing a breath of frustration, I determined which one of the four men in the house needed to be murdered for repacking my bag. And it was repacked. Looking at it now I could tell that. The new underwear I’d purchased with Warren’s gift voucher was packed in, the two skirt suits I’d packed to wear for the weekend were swapped for the more expensive dresses that Darius bought me. Everything was different except my toiletries, and there was no pajamas.

  Slamming the lid shut I picked up my phone and dialed Zander.

  “Hello, beautiful. How is the trip?” Zander chuckled.

  “I’m going to kill you, and Warren, and even Steffen if he was involved,” I threatened.

  “Calm down, beautiful. We just wanted you to look your best.” There was laughter in the back ground. I recognized Warren’s voice when he said how much he liked the p
resent he bought me.

  “Zander, you forgot my pajamas and I’m sharing his bed,” I growled in a low voice.

  Zander sobered. “Wait, what?”

  “The hotel messed up the reservation and only booked us the one room. You’ve left me nothing to wear to bed.”

  “Crap, Mora. We did not mean for that to be the situation.” Zander sounded worried.

  “What situation were you hoping for?” I asked angrily.

  Zander swallowed. “Well, the sort that Warren and I got to go to sleep knowing you were in bed naked.”

  “I thought you looked at me like a little sister?” I grumbled.

  “Dare will not allow us to think of you otherwise,” Zander answered remorsefully.

  “And yet, I’m down a set of pajamas.” I hung up the phone. “Shit.”

  Taking my bag into the wardrobe, I noted Darius was still in the shower. Yes, I looked, and yes, he was still stroking. Thankfully, he had his back to the wardrobe.

  I pulled my boots off, reached around and grabbed one of the robes from the bathroom before moving back into the bedroom and stripping. Pulling on the robe, I hung my dress up in the wardrobe and went to use the separate powder room to ready for bed.

  When I came out, the shower had stopped. I stepped gingerly into the bedroom and observed Darius brushing his teeth in the bathroom. Walking to the bed, I pulled back the quilt, removed my robe, leaving it on the floor beside the bed, and turned off the light as I climbed under the covers. I snuggled down into the comfortable bed and stared at the window opposite.

  I could see Darius’s reflection in the glass when he stepped into the wardrobe. I watched him walk to the bedroom door and stand there looking over the bed. He ran his hand through his hair and murmured something to himself before switching the bathroom light off, leaving the room in darkness.

  I didn’t feel Darius climb into the bed, but I heard the quilt as he settled himself.

  “Mora?” Darius murmured quietly.

  I didn’t answer him, pretending instead to be asleep.

  Darius moved again. “I cannot believe how badly I have messed this up,” he whispered forlornly.

  I thought he was being a bit harsh on himself. He can’t be blamed for the room mix-up. The bathroom? Yeah, that was totally on him.