His to Possess
Not done questioning you
My heart kickstarting into high gear, I looked for the third time between the notecard in my shaking hand and the black silk box on my bed. The package had arrived ten minutes before by a private courier in a dark blue van that bore no identifying marks beyond its license plate.
I didn't need a signature to know my employer, Collin Stark, had sent the "gift."
Letting the card fall onto the bedspread, I reached into the box and fingered the surface layer of fabric. Breathtaking even to the touch, the top outfit had been cut from a pale gold silk chiffon. I lifted it from the box and walked to the mirror. It looked like something a queen would wear on her honeymoon, rather than the frumpy, oversized junior secretary to the CEO of Stark International.
Senior secretary, I mentally corrected. Collin Stark had promoted me Tuesday after fucking me senseless and informing me that Janice Green, his then current senior secretary, would be retiring on Friday.
Trying to forget the events of the last week and my sexual capitulation in Stark's office, I held the fabric against my jeans and sweatshirt. I shook my head, my ash-brown hair softly rustling against the thick fleece of my top.
I couldn't imagine stuffing my oversized body into the delicate material. Almost floor length, the dressing gown hooked in the front where a drawstring ran just beneath the breast line to ensure the soft, malleable flesh contained would be held upright. Amber-colored crystals flowed like butterfly wings above and below the drawstring, the cut of the gown such that the panels didn't join to conceal the flesh beneath. More revealing, the semi-sheer fabric would expose the darker coloring of my nipples.
Numb, I slowly returned to the bed and mechanically removed the matching thong underwear from the box, the gold stark against the short black Chantilly lace robe beneath it. I took the remaining outfits out one by one and placed them on the bed. Half-shelf bras and matching panties, corsets and, beneath everything, four pairs of high heeled shoes, each a perfect match to one of the ensembles within the box.
Overwhelmed, I sank to the floor.
Two partially packed suitcases crowded the area next to me. I had spent the day preparing for a flight to Dubai, my first business trip with Collin. The plane departed tomorrow, Sunday. I'd been given packing orders after Janice's retirement party on Friday.
That short notice followed three long days of being every bit as invisible to Stark as I had been the first six months working within his company. Even during the moments we were completely alone in his office, he had remained a blank sheet of steel. A dozen plus times his dark blue eyes had met mine, no heat or emotion evident in their mysterious depths. Every accidental brush of flesh had been just that -- accidental.
At least I hadn't intentionally touched him. The feelings he had evoked within me and the acts I had consented to within his office terrified me. I was only slightly less frightened of Collin. And I certainly didn't think Collin had intentionally touched me in the days that followed his "interrogation" of me in his office. The contact never registered on his face nor in his voice. His hard body and gaze never softened.
Now this -- I lightly bounced the back of my skull against the silk box that had arrived filled with clothes meant for the bedroom and designed to be quickly stripped from the wearer's body. All this from a man that had shown no interest in me before or after that one incident.
Growling, I pushed up from the floor and headed into the kitchen. I dropped a tea bag in a mug of water, set the cook time on the microwave and slipped into the bathroom. Turning on the tub's faucet, I let the hot water slowly build before closing the drain and squirting in some bath foam.
As the tub filled, I finished making my tea then stripped and slid into the hot, hot water.
Fuck, yes, just the thing I
Not done questioning you
My heart kickstarting into high gear, I looked for the third time between the notecard in my shaking hand and the black silk box on my bed. The package had arrived ten minutes before by a private courier in a dark blue van that bore no identifying marks beyond its license plate.
I didn't need a signature to know my employer, Collin Stark, had sent the "gift."
Letting the card fall onto the bedspread, I reached into the box and fingered the surface layer of fabric. Breathtaking even to the touch, the top outfit had been cut from a pale gold silk chiffon. I lifted it from the box and walked to the mirror. It looked like something a queen would wear on her honeymoon, rather than the frumpy, oversized junior secretary to the CEO of Stark International.
Senior secretary, I mentally corrected. Collin Stark had promoted me Tuesday after fucking me senseless and informing me that Janice Green, his then current senior secretary, would be retiring on Friday.
Trying to forget the events of the last week and my sexual capitulation in Stark's office, I held the fabric against my jeans and sweatshirt. I shook my head, my ash-brown hair softly rustling against the thick fleece of my top.
I couldn't imagine stuffing my oversized body into the delicate material. Almost floor length, the dressing gown hooked in the front where a drawstring ran just beneath the breast line to ensure the soft, malleable flesh contained would be held upright. Amber-colored crystals flowed like butterfly wings above and below the drawstring, the cut of the gown such that the panels didn't join to conceal the flesh beneath. More revealing, the semi-sheer fabric would expose the darker coloring of my nipples.
Numb, I slowly returned to the bed and mechanically removed the matching thong underwear from the box, the gold stark against the short black Chantilly lace robe beneath it. I took the remaining outfits out one by one and placed them on the bed. Half-shelf bras and matching panties, corsets and, beneath everything, four pairs of high heeled shoes, each a perfect match to one of the ensembles within the box.
Overwhelmed, I sank to the floor.
Two partially packed suitcases crowded the area next to me. I had spent the day preparing for a flight to Dubai, my first business trip with Collin. The plane departed tomorrow, Sunday. I'd been given packing orders after Janice's retirement party on Friday.
That short notice followed three long days of being every bit as invisible to Stark as I had been the first six months working within his company. Even during the moments we were completely alone in his office, he had remained a blank sheet of steel. A dozen plus times his dark blue eyes had met mine, no heat or emotion evident in their mysterious depths. Every accidental brush of flesh had been just that -- accidental.
At least I hadn't intentionally touched him. The feelings he had evoked within me and the acts I had consented to within his office terrified me. I was only slightly less frightened of Collin. And I certainly didn't think Collin had intentionally touched me in the days that followed his "interrogation" of me in his office. The contact never registered on his face nor in his voice. His hard body and gaze never softened.
Now this -- I lightly bounced the back of my skull against the silk box that had arrived filled with clothes meant for the bedroom and designed to be quickly stripped from the wearer's body. All this from a man that had shown no interest in me before or after that one incident.
Growling, I pushed up from the floor and headed into the kitchen. I dropped a tea bag in a mug of water, set the cook time on the microwave and slipped into the bathroom. Turning on the tub's faucet, I let the hot water slowly build before closing the drain and squirting in some bath foam.
As the tub filled, I finished making my tea then stripped and slid into the hot, hot water.
Fuck, yes, just the thing I
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