Chapter Eleven

Wick

One word.

Just. One. Damn. Word.

That was all it took for her body to plop itself back into the chair while her brain was frantically screaming at it to run out the door.

Oh, for Christ's sake, stop. Who are you trying to fool? You've been desperate to find Master M. Well, you just did. Here he is. As big and as seriously fuckable as he was on the plane.

For once, Wick had no comeback to her inner voice. However, everything she had said was true.

And damn, he was seriously fuckable. With his open shirt, tight jeans, and barefoot, he had shocked her speechless at first sight that night. In a crisp, tailored suit, white silk shirt, and striped tie, he made her mouth water… and yearn for what she now knew was hidden underneath all that extrinsic sophistication.

"Pray tell," Wick was damned if she was going to allow the alphahole to see how shaken she was. "If I'm not here for borrowing your plane, what am I doing here?"

"Borrowing? Hmm, I see we're back to a language lesson again. Tell me, Wick, what's the definition of borrowing versus stealing?"

"I didn't steal your stupid chopper!" She frowned as the memory of the luxurious and super-smart helicopter flashed through her mind. She had never flown such an extraordinary aircraft. "Let me rephrase that," she muttered. "It's not that gorgeous super-smart chopper's fault it has such an asshole of an owner." She pointed a finger at him. "But I didn't steal it. I borrowed it! There was never a pre-intention, and once I realized it belonged to CyberCo, I made sure to land it right there in front of your hangar. Show me one thief who would leave a note and money. C'mon. I dare you, Mr. DuPont."

"You made one mistake, though, Ms. Bitch."

"And what would that be?"

"The Golden Eagle doesn't belong to CyberCo. It's mine, my personal helicopter."

"Oh." She tapped a finger on the arm of the chair. "Semantics," she snickered as she shrugged negligently. "I still didn't steal it, and besides, if you hadn't tied me up like a common criminal, I wouldn't have had to escape and run away."

"I see." Wick didn't appreciate the open amusement canvassing across his expression. "So, what you're saying is that I forced your hand. That I'm indirectly responsible for you stealing my chopper?"

"Borrowing… and yes." She slapped a hand on her thigh. "That. Exactly that."

"And I counter that no one but you is directly responsible for everything that happened, whether it be intentional or not, since you trespassed on the GoldenEye. Everything from that point forward was your own to-do."

Wick pressed her lips together before another word slipped past and dug the hole she was already shoulder-deep in all the way to Hades' cave in the underworld.

Not impossible since he's probably a direct ancestor of this devil.

A very fuckable one, though.

Don't remind me.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a very expressive face, Wick?"

She didn't have to wonder what he meant. That night on the plane had been more than enough to warn her that he had the ability to read her every thought, let alone her expressions.

"I'm not… I have no idea what you're blabbering about, Mr. DuPont."

"You don't?" His eyes roamed over her chest, resting for long moments at the top button of her shirt where her cleavage daringly peeked out. She should've done the damn shirt up to her chin! Then, they moved on to pointedly stare at her budding and very aroused nipples, boldly pressing against the soft silk of her peach-colored top. "It's unwise to underestimate me, Wick. Very, very stupid indeed."

With a huff, she crossed her arms to cover her deceitful breasts. It was a sad day when one's own body betrayed you.

"Let's cut the crap, shall we? If not because of your chopper, why else am I here?"

"We have unfinished business, little witch."

Wick suppressed the moan that scratched at the back of her throat with difficulty as visions of a naked Max DuPont covering her very needy body hijacked her mind.

"I suppose we'll have to agree to disagree." She struggled to compose herself but bravely marched onward. "If your concern is for Jax, you can relax. We've reached an agreement. He's no longer under investigation."

"I'm aware. It was a collective decision for him to visit you with a proposal." His eyes turned dark, stealing Wick's ability to concentrate and find the words to absolve herself. "Since he's your client, I assume you realize that you're under obligation to keep all information about him, the GoldenEye, and the location of our flight confidential?"

"So, that's what this is about?" Wick struggled to stem the rush of disappointment. Here, she was starting to believe he had ulterior motives, only to find his only concern was keeping his sex club a secret.

"You're wrong, Wick. I told you the club is legal and registered." Once again, he proved he could read her thoughts. It was highly annoying. "I don't care if you tell anyone you were there. What would get you into trouble would be to disclose the identity of any of our members or staff."

"You can relax. I have no desire to be a snitch. Besides, every person has a right to follow their own desires and sexual proclivities."

"I wasn't concerned, and no, that's also not why you're here."

"Well, since I believe we concluded our association aboard the GoldenEye, I'll just take my leave." His words stopped her mid-rise from the chair.

"Ah, no, Wick. We definitely didn't." A devious smile flashed over his face. "You owe me a fuck, and you're here to deliver."

Suddenly, Wick couldn't breathe as heat exploded all over her body, leaving her feeling like she had been dumped in a trough filled with lava.

"Y-You brought me here to… to…"

"Fuck," he supplied succinctly. "Indeed, I did."

The air shifted while she attempted to compute the direction they were headed.

"Oh!" Her gasp was cut short as he yanked her out of the chair and into his arms. His lips crashed onto hers.

Oh, Lord. It wasn't a dream. Heaven. I'm in heaven.

His kiss was just as hot and seductive as it had been on the plane… more so, since this time, she wasn't as unsure and timid. She fully embraced his powerful body pressed against hers.

It didn't take long for her to become lost in a heatwave of desire, in the way he savaged her mouth. Neither of them could get enough as they quenched a thirst that was driving them to nibble and bite at each other's lips. At her painful moan, he soothed her mouth with a deep kiss, then demanded more with a commanding swirl of his tongue against hers. She was torn between the heat of having his mouth on hers again and the desire to feel his hand touch her naked skin.

Then, she didn't need to yearn anymore as his palms fluttered over her nipples. Wick didn't even realize he was methodically removing her blouse, tight business skirt, and bra until every piece was scattered on the floor, leaving her dressed in lace panties and Louboutin pumps. His large palm grazing over her spine toggled her mind's awareness of her state of undress.

"What are you…" Her eyes frantically moved to the closed door. "Are you crazy? Anyone can walk in here."

"No one would dare. Now, little witch… let's tango."

Before Wick could comprehend what he was about, he picked her up and set her on the boardroom table.

"Hmm, I don't believe I'll ever be able to have a meeting here without remembering this vision," he murmured as he forced her back flush against the table.

"I… this isn't… oh, Lord, I've never done something like this before."

"I'm a firm believer in first experiences, little bird, so… let's pop your conference table sex cherry, shall we?" With his words echoing in her mind, he fisted her panties and with a hard tug, slowly tore them from her body. Her eyes widened as she stared at the piece of lace fluttering to the floor while doing her best to contain the flush of heat that settled with a demanding pulse in her core.

"Oh, Lordy me," she groaned and arched her back as he brushed his palm with a tantric swipe over the length of her pussy. Back and forth until her hips moved higher, begging for a harder, deeper touch.

"Ah, little witch, you're beautiful. A gift from heaven itself," he said as he settled between her legs. She was barely aware of the crinkle of paper as she basked in his compliment. Her breath staggered as the size of his cock registered. Wick was loud during sex… and there was no way she'd be able to keep from screaming with that… thing drilling into her!

What the hell am I doing? In an office, in front of a wall of windows… on a boardroom table! Get a grip, Wicked!

Sanity prevailed, and she scooted back to the center of the table while doing her best to ignore the fact that she was naked with spread legs… eagle spread! Furiously, she clamped her knees together. Not surprisingly, he didn't say a word, except that one eyebrow crawling questioningly higher.

"Not happening, Mr. DuPont," she said in a breathless rush. One finger moved left to right fervently. "I'm not some… some floozie you're gonna hump on your conference table."

"No sane man would ever confuse you as a floozie, little bird." His hands curled around her ankles. Her attempt to kick him off didn't even budge his hold. Instead, he spread her legs again. This time she planted her hands over her wide-open pussy. Finger up his ass if he thought she was a pushover. She had some dignity left… not much, but a trinkle of it forced her to show a modicum of modesty in the face of his smile, which brought shivers down her spine.

"Besides, as I already told you, I don't do sex. I don't hump either… but I do fuck." The move was so effortless, she felt affronted as he yanked her back to the edge of the table. "Wild, rough, and hard," he growled against her ear at the same time as he easily pushed her hands out of the way to guide his cock inside her wet pussy. With one hard thrust, he hilted inside her.

"Holy shit!" she gasped, her eyes widening as a fullness she had never before experienced overwhelmed her.

"Just as I suspected, little bird. You are the perfect fit," he murmured as her pussy swallowed his turgid shaft.

Pleasure burgeoned inside her, and for some unknown reason, right here at this moment, she felt like she belonged.

With an unconsciousness that shocked her, she thrashed against him, her initial denial completely forgotten. Desperation to reap the reward of his deeply thrusting cock guided every move. There was a ruthlessness of a hawk about to devour its prey in his eyes as he watched her. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she canted her hips against his as he pounded into her.

"Oh, that feels so good," Wick cried as a rush of heat surged through her body.

"Uhm..." Max grunted. Ignoring her cry of pain, he fisted a clump of her hair and yanked her head back, forcing her back into an upward arch. "That's it, experience the rush. Let it take you all the way," Max murmured as he leaned closer and wildly sucked her nipples. Heat surged from where his lips feasted on her to settle in a demanding throb of her clit.

"Gaawd," she cried with a little catch in her breathing as her eyelids fluttered closed.

"No!" he barked with censure in his voice. "Keep your eyes open. I want to see every sensation you experience."

Her eyes snapped open as the first wave of pleasure threatened to overpower her. "Ohh, gaaawwd," she moaned as she thrashed harder, grinding her clit against him, desperate for that final push over into the abyss of pleasure.

"You do not come, Wick. Not until I tell you to."

Wick gasped with disbelief as he pounded into her, her buttocks bouncing off the table with the force of each plunge. With sexual torment raging through her, she clenched her inner muscles to stave off the climax. The pulpiness of her bottom lip suffered abuse between her teeth, turning white as she bit into it as the temptation to let go screamed brazenly in her mind.

How the hell am I supposed to not come? Did he forget I'm not a submissive?

"Ahh, I can't," she cried out as the pressure in her loins increased, destroying any coherent thought she had. "I can't hold back!" Yet, she continued to wage a battle with her own body, desperate not to disappoint him.

Max powered into her again and again, then with one deep growl, he erupted inside her, blowing streams of ropey cum inside her.

"I can't hold... Ugh!" Wick screamed as she also became lost in the grip of an orgasm. Like a riptide, the force of the pleasure-pain tore her in different directions.

Max grunted a warning, but she continued to shudder and ripple around his softening cock.

"Now, that's a very bad girl," he said as he withdrew from her moments later.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered with a heaving chest. Still spread open and vulnerable to his gaze, her voice was hoarse from the aftershock and the sensations that still coursed down her spine. "I tried."

"Hmm, next time, you need to try harder." Wick jerked as he slowly and with deliberate torment rubbed his now uncovered cock clean over her labia, mons, and clit. The swollen nub was super sensitive, and she was caught off guard as a fresh wave of arousal sparked inside her.

Next time.Her mind was jubilant as his words registered. There was going to be a next time!

No shit, Sherlock.

"Stop," she whimpered while struggling to regain control of her emotions as another climax steamrolled over her. Her body trembled wildly in its wake. "God, I can't believe I just came again." Until she had walked into Club Decadent Skies, she believed multiple climaxes to be a myth.

Max's fist tightened around the tuft of hair and pulled her upright. Their eyes met, leaving Wick trembling at the dark deviousness that flashed in his eyes.

"You should've remembered that there are always consequences to not following my instructions, my little bird. You just did it twice."

"I'm not your little anything, Max DuPont."

"No, you're not, but you are Master M's submissive, Wick. You just need to admit it to yourself."

"It's never gonna happen," she whispered but couldn't stop her hips from tilting higher as he brushed a teasing palm over her throbbing center.

"You will not come again until I tell you to, little bird. Not even by way of masturbating." His eyes darkened ominously. "Is that clear?"

"As crystal." Why did she just commit to that? She, better than anyone, knew that since she had met him, the showerhead had become her nighttime fuck toy. There was no way in hell she'd go one night without masturbating… fantasizing about him, Master M.

"Good. Now, I've arranged with my pilot to fly you back to Tampa. You need to make arrangements with your team during your absence. You'll be joining me on the GoldenEye plane for our next trip on Club Decadent Skies, leaving at midnight on Wednesday. You'll be back home late evening on Sunday."

"No, I'm not. You can't just order me to be there, and besides, I can't just—"

"If you're not there, Wick…" he smiled grimly. "I'll never bother you again. It's your choice. Make the right one."