needed.
Slipping lower into the water, I closed my eyes. Beneath the covering of foam, my hands roamed my thick body. Camouflaged by bubbles and nearly weightless in the deep tub, I could pretend Collin truly found me desirable and wasn't instead playing some Machiavellian game to expose me as a spy.
I snorted at the concept. Didn't Stark know -- real spies don't have curves, at least not the kind I come equipped with.
Holding my breath, I sank below the water line. Air bubbled through my heavy, dark curls until my hair pooled against the porcelain bottom. Naked, warm and relaxed, with a bed covered in lingerie, I couldn't avoid dwelling on how Stark had taken me in his office.
I folded my hands atop my mound, my fingers surreptitiously parting my labia in search of my clit. I slipped a finger lower, the tip invading my cunt. How many times had Stark filled that wet, swollen hole?
In the corner with his fingers.
Again on the couch between the rough smacks to my ass.
Finally, with my chest flat against his desk, his cock taking me from behind, the shaft and head so big they stretched me until I was lost in a delirium between pain and pleasure.
Gasping for air, I broke the surface of water and bubbles, my body twitching from the orgasm my fingers and memories had quickly ripped from my body.
Trembling, I opened the drain and concentrated on the sudden vortex of water and bubbles created by the act. My emotions swirled with them, spinning more slowly at the top of the inverted cone, accelerating as they narrowed to the wild, dancing pulse of my clit.
Short, measured bursts of sound polluted the air as I fought to avoid hyperventilating. I shook my head, wet hair slapping my flesh in a punishing self-flagellation that did nothing to calm my frenzied body or mind.
In a little more than twelve hours, I would be trapped on a plane for Dubai with a man who had mastered my body in a single encounter without surrendering even a gram of his soul.
I was fucked -- badly -- and there wasn't anything I could, or wanted, to do to escape.
********************
Collin's interrogation began as soon as I stepped into his private jet. He directed a member of the cabin crew to place my bags on the long meeting table that divided the cabin and leave. Once we were alone, he unzipped both bags and began to explore their contents.
"What are you doing?" The relief I had felt on learning that no one at the airport would paw through the revealing clothes inside the luggage evaporated as he fingered the gold chiffon robe. When he didn't answer or stop his search, I folded my arms across my breasts and glared at him. "I read through the list of prohibited items three times, there won't be any issue with the Dubai customs."
His gaze lifted at my challenge, a cold blue fire shimmering at the surface. "I have my own security concerns, Mia."
I rolled my lips, closed my eyes. How the hell would I deflect another attempt to sexually dominate me if I couldn't manage my own temper! Or my passions -- I licked my lips, trying to cool the heat that had erupted at the way he touched the edge of the gold robe.
"Don't lick those luscious lips unless you're ready to suck my cock, Mia."
My eyes flew open. My gaze jerked from Stark to the door the crew member had disappeared behind. Turning abruptly, I took a seat on the dark red couch that lined the curved wall of the plane, my arms protectively wrapped around my chest and shoulders and my legs tightly crossed.
A few more minutes passed as Stark searched my bags then paged a steward to stow them. Taking a seat beside me, he opened his briefcase and ordered an espresso.
"Miss James?" the steward asked after a few seconds of silence.
I looked up and realized he was waiting for my drink request. Really, I wanted a very large shot of Scotch or something equally numbing. Maybe an entire cask of the dark, burning liquid to take my mind off my cunt and the man sitting beside me.
"Water, please." I waited for
Slipping lower into the water, I closed my eyes. Beneath the covering of foam, my hands roamed my thick body. Camouflaged by bubbles and nearly weightless in the deep tub, I could pretend Collin truly found me desirable and wasn't instead playing some Machiavellian game to expose me as a spy.
I snorted at the concept. Didn't Stark know -- real spies don't have curves, at least not the kind I come equipped with.
Holding my breath, I sank below the water line. Air bubbled through my heavy, dark curls until my hair pooled against the porcelain bottom. Naked, warm and relaxed, with a bed covered in lingerie, I couldn't avoid dwelling on how Stark had taken me in his office.
I folded my hands atop my mound, my fingers surreptitiously parting my labia in search of my clit. I slipped a finger lower, the tip invading my cunt. How many times had Stark filled that wet, swollen hole?
In the corner with his fingers.
Again on the couch between the rough smacks to my ass.
Finally, with my chest flat against his desk, his cock taking me from behind, the shaft and head so big they stretched me until I was lost in a delirium between pain and pleasure.
Gasping for air, I broke the surface of water and bubbles, my body twitching from the orgasm my fingers and memories had quickly ripped from my body.
Trembling, I opened the drain and concentrated on the sudden vortex of water and bubbles created by the act. My emotions swirled with them, spinning more slowly at the top of the inverted cone, accelerating as they narrowed to the wild, dancing pulse of my clit.
Short, measured bursts of sound polluted the air as I fought to avoid hyperventilating. I shook my head, wet hair slapping my flesh in a punishing self-flagellation that did nothing to calm my frenzied body or mind.
In a little more than twelve hours, I would be trapped on a plane for Dubai with a man who had mastered my body in a single encounter without surrendering even a gram of his soul.
I was fucked -- badly -- and there wasn't anything I could, or wanted, to do to escape.
********************
Collin's interrogation began as soon as I stepped into his private jet. He directed a member of the cabin crew to place my bags on the long meeting table that divided the cabin and leave. Once we were alone, he unzipped both bags and began to explore their contents.
"What are you doing?" The relief I had felt on learning that no one at the airport would paw through the revealing clothes inside the luggage evaporated as he fingered the gold chiffon robe. When he didn't answer or stop his search, I folded my arms across my breasts and glared at him. "I read through the list of prohibited items three times, there won't be any issue with the Dubai customs."
His gaze lifted at my challenge, a cold blue fire shimmering at the surface. "I have my own security concerns, Mia."
I rolled my lips, closed my eyes. How the hell would I deflect another attempt to sexually dominate me if I couldn't manage my own temper! Or my passions -- I licked my lips, trying to cool the heat that had erupted at the way he touched the edge of the gold robe.
"Don't lick those luscious lips unless you're ready to suck my cock, Mia."
My eyes flew open. My gaze jerked from Stark to the door the crew member had disappeared behind. Turning abruptly, I took a seat on the dark red couch that lined the curved wall of the plane, my arms protectively wrapped around my chest and shoulders and my legs tightly crossed.
A few more minutes passed as Stark searched my bags then paged a steward to stow them. Taking a seat beside me, he opened his briefcase and ordered an espresso.
"Miss James?" the steward asked after a few seconds of silence.
I looked up and realized he was waiting for my drink request. Really, I wanted a very large shot of Scotch or something equally numbing. Maybe an entire cask of the dark, burning liquid to take my mind off my cunt and the man sitting beside me.
"Water, please." I waited for
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