The parking lot was empty. There was at least that to be grateful for, she thought.

She was naked again, wearing nothing more than her mask, shoes and jewelry, perched on the hood of the Mercedes, her legs spread wide, crying out softly, a sharp intake of breath as he entered her, the metal warm on her skin from the engine below. They were in the same parking spot as before. Perhaps that should have been a warning. The fluorescent tubes were still unlit in their fixtures and the fastidiousness of the more customer visible spaces in front was still notably absent. The van with the hotel logo was still there, still covered in its layers of dust.

Her dress - her ridiculously expensive, wonderfully scandalous dress - was lost somewhere, torn at the seams and ruined on the dirty parking lot floor. He'd ripped it off her body in one vicious tug, making her squeal in alarm, her eyes widening in shock at her sudden nudity and the immediate realization that she was helpless to stop him from doing whatever he wanted to do to her.

Again.

He'd growled wordlessly as he pressed her against the car, trapping her, rough as he caressed and fondled her naked body, kissing her neck, kneading her breasts, inerrantly finding every sensitive spot on her body, her resistance collapsing under the onslaught of his hands and mouth. She finally stopped her perfunctory attempts at resisting when his hand went between her legs, slipping inside the wet heat of her as her body sagged of its own volition against him, her breath going out in a soft moan of surrender, accepting what was going to happen and accepting the delicious fact that there was nothing she could do about it. The all-too-familiar surging of fear and lust-fuelled excitement that was going through her body easily overwhelmed whatever outrage the side of her that still cared about propriety and modesty felt about what he was doing to her.

She shuddered when his fingers finally left her and in the next moment, he turned her around. He explored her from behind, gentle at first, and then less so as he found her wetness, making her cry out repeatedly as he moved his fingers in and out of her pussy, lubrication flooding out of her to coat her inner thighs. Then the thick rod of his member was at her entrance, nosing at her slit as she went on her tip-toes, breath catching as his hands went to either side of her belly. Then he was inside her, and she threw her head back as he slid all the way into her pussy.

She made a sound, half-way between a moan and a shriek, loud in the stillness of the garage, only to have his hand cover her mouth, hushing her. "Shhh ..." he bit out, close to her ear.

Goosebumps rose on her skin, all her senses flooded with sensation, sight, sound, smell all sharper and clearer as she heard his harsh breathing in her ear, the faint hum of the parking lot's fluorescent lighting. She smelled the asphalt, car exhaust and motor oil that permeated every parking lot, joined with the distinct scent of her own arousal. She could feel the faint sheen of sweat beginning to appear on her naked body, her nipples pressing on the cool glass of the car window, the heat in the air that made it to this part of the Grand Imperial's subterranean garage on her skin. But most of all, she felt him; his hands on her skin, his presence inside her body as he held and rode her.

She struggled to keep from crying out, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood. And to a point she succeeded, she only cried out a few times as he stroked relentlessly into her body, his cock going all the way in each time as he grunted in her ear, his hands traveling from her breasts to her belly, his fingers cruel on her nipples. But she screamed when she came just a little over a minute later, unable to stifle it, her entire body flexing against him as his hand covered her mouth again. Then he continued to fuck her, cruelly intensifying her predicament, her body jerking as spasm after spasm spread through her abdomen as she let go and shrieked against his hand.

Then suddenly, he was out of her and he was turning her around, his mouth descending on hers to muffle the rest of her cries. She threw her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him as she threw herself into the kiss, the hardness of his cock, wet and covered with her fluids against her belly, the warmth between her legs something approaching the infernal.

Finally, he broke the kiss, and as she gasped from the abruptness of it, he easily lifted her and put her on the hood of the car. She didn't resist as he unceremoniously spread her legs apart and positioned himself between them, distantly noting his trousers and boxers being yanked down to fall around his ankles as she leaned back on her hands. She stared at him, eyes wide at the ravenous monster she saw in his eyes, breathing hard as his cock pushed at her entrance. Then he was inside her, grunting as he immediately began to slide in and out of her body.

She went stiff, crying out at the shock of his entry, the surge of pleasure spreading through her to every extremity and nerve ending as he fucked her. She forgot that she was supposed to be silent, forgot everything as she keened, going stiff as she came.

He pressed down on her and covered her lips with his, shutting her up.

She understood then as she found his eyes again, breathless and panting as his hands traveled all over her body, touching, feeling, exploring. Her lip furled up, teeth gritting, accepting as he cruelly pulled and squeezed her nipples.

This was again about his own need, his pleasure, not hers.

She began to move with him again, her liquid flowing out in small rivulets around his cock as she braced herself with her hands behind her, gasps she couldn't quite keep inside escaping her open panting mouth to answer his harsh breathing, her breasts jiggling on her chest as their bodies repeatedly met.

Her own needs were suddenly irrelevant, unimportant - his pleasure, his use of her body to bring himself to release was abruptly all that mattered, suddenly the sole focus of her existence. Unable to speak, she met his eyes, willing him to see at that moment that all of her was his, that she had given herself completely to calming the monster of desire inside him.

Honor's mouth opened again in a quickly choked off scream and she bit her lip again as he stroked into her body, the last vestiges of his control fraying, her legs flexing and tightening around his waist as she threw her head back, moving with him as he speared his cock into her pussy over and over again. Abruptly, he leaned forward to kiss her mouth, pulling her toward him with a hand behind her neck, harsh and rough, growling again as she moaned and kissed him back, licking hungrily at his lips with her own snarl of harsh need.

She cried out again when he let her go, the sound of the Mercedes' creaking suspensions suddenly louder, joined by her gasps and his labored breaths as their movements became more frantic, more desperate. Then Marq let out a strangled yell and somehow his member was out of her and his cum was streaking unto her belly, landing on her thighs, soaking into her pubic hair.

Then he lying was on top of her, spent, his broad upper body crushing her breasts on her chest.

She had come again, powerfully, her orgasm exploding through her body as she felt his semen lacing her skin. The goosebumps had not left her skin, and she was still flooded with sensation, everything - sight, sound, touch, smell - somehow brighter and clearer, as she lay under her him.

She could feel the sticky warmth of his cum on her belly, her own wetness leaking out between her open thighs, the beads of sweat sheening her body. She could smell the faint scent of what she knew was her own come and the heaviness of his release, of man and woman at their most primal. His breathing was harsh and labored in her ear, and her own breathing was just as ragged as she wrapped her arms around him, shaking as another spasm rode through her abdomen.

She was his slut, his whore.

She squeezed him tighter, melding herself against him, listening to his ragged breathing as he lay on top of her, eyes closing as she breathed him in, wondering at the sheer joy pervading her senses as the phrase repeated itself in her head.

"Ow," he said, his voice perfectly calm and steady under the circumstances.

She laughed and she loosened her hold on him, allowing him to lift his head and see the full smile on her kiss-swollen lips, the brightness in her brown eyes.

He kissed her, soft and languid. "Have I convinced you now?" he asked afterwards, "That you're the most beautiful woman in the world?"

She raised an eyebrow; the truth was she felt like the most beautiful woman who'd ever lived. "What if I said no?"

He shrugged. "Then I'll have to keep trying."

She brought his head down and kissed him back. "You won't give up?"

He shrugged again, his lips touching hers as he said, "For as long as it takes."

"Then I'm not convinced," she lied happily, furling up her lip and sniffing in mock derision as his mouth came down on hers. "At all ..."

Her arms clamped around his neck as he lifted her up, still kissing her, her legs clamped tight around his waist before he gently put her down. She was still a little unsteady on her heels when he let go of her lips, and she had to keep her arms around his neck to keep from falling, her breasts pressing into his shirted chest as his fingers restarted their exploration of her pussy. She cried out, as much from the invasion as the fact that he was well on his way to full mast again.

"Keep trying ..." she managed to gasp, even as she felt the heat coiling down between her legs again, as if called by the fingers she was already coating with her fluids, her body already preparing itself.

He made a growling noise as he brought his wetly glistening fingers to her mouth.

Obediently, she, his slut, his whore, licked them clean.

________________________

Her sexy expensive dress was dirty from where it had fallen on the floor so he'd taken off his shirt and put it on her for the journey back to the sixteenth floor. Then he'd kissed her again and told her to go ahead in front of him, in that tone that brooked no disobedience, and she'd obeyed as he'd known she would despite her initial trepidation. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she walked in through the automatic sliding doors and made her way through the lobby, her clutch bag in her hand, shivering slightly from the abruptly cooler air, her already swollen nipples tightening into sharper points on her freely moving breasts.

There was only a skeleton crew of hotel staff to attend to the mostly male handful of guests, sitting in the basement lobby's small sitting area around drink laden tables - it was nearly two in the morning during the workweek after all. But she felt the familiar weight of their stares as she walked past them, so much like before, just a few short hours ago. Outwardly, feeling absurdly safe behind her mask, she ignored them, acknowledging no one, but inside her, she again felt herself responding to the attention, but this time there was no feeling of mortification, no shame, no reproachful voice in her head at the wanton display of sexuality she presented as she walked through the hotel lobby, only a deeper swelling of heat in her abdomen at the sudden silences as she crossed fields of vision.

The shirt might have been long, falling to just below mid-thigh and draping on her body, but her sharply pointing nipples was not the only thing revealing that she was entirely nude underneath it. The cum he had so carelessly left in so many streaks on her belly and around her hip, just falling short of her jiggling breasts, made the shirt stick wetly in translucent patches to her skin. Not to mention the fact that he had left one, or two, buttons open that, by rights, should have been closed.

She would have closed them herself if by then she'd actually cared about anything like decency or modesty. If he wanted to display his possession - her - and she couldn't think of a reason why not. He'd bought her after all, hadn't he?

"Hallo!" A mildly familiar French-accented voice from one of the occupied tables.

It was Pierre. Luc was sitting with him and appeared quite incapable of speaking.

"Hello." She said back, stopping and smiling at both men, seeing the recognition in their eyes despite the mask on her face.

"Come please!" Pierre said, eagerness making his accent even stronger. "Come please. Join us!"

Luc regained his capacity for speech then. "You ..." he said, "You look ... very nice."

"Thank you," Honor said, amused.

"Join us, please!" Pierre repeated, smiling widely, nodding his agreement with his friend.

She felt Marq stop beside her and lay his hand possessively on her hip. "I'm sorry, gentlemen," he said in French to the two men. "But she has a prior engagement."

The looks of disappointment on the two Frenchmen's faces were almost comical.

Then Luc asked - in French. "Where did you get her?"

Pierre; "How much?"

"Actually," Marq said, still friendly. "She's mine. Not for sale. At any price."

Pierre looked confused, but Luc, to his credit, seemed to realize his faux pas. "I am truly sorry," he said. "I did not mean to ..."

"You're a very lucky man," Pierre interrupted, realizing it too. "And please accept our apology ..."

"No problem," Marq said, his voice slightly warmer. "But I'd appreciate it if you would apologize to the lady."

They looked confused for a moment until Honor spoke - in French. "It's alright - there's no need to apologize."

Both Frenchmen's eyes widened in shock, the acute embarrassment on their faces plain to see.

"I said there's no need to apologize," Honor said again, smiling, interrupting stammered out apologies. "Because you're right; I am a whore."

Confusion again reigned on the two men's faces and they looked from both the masked woman who was quite obviously wearing the shirt that must have gone with the suit the man was wearing to the man himself standing beside her and looking at her with a calm amused expression.

Honor grinned, and as the two Frenchmen watched, she pulled Marq Haydn down to her lips, kissing him hard, her hand at the back of his head as she went on the tips of her toes, her breasts pressing against him. She smiled at all three men when she was done. "I cost him ten thousand dollars." She told Pierre and Luc before she went up and kissed Marq again, her tongue darting out to lick at his lips.

Then, without another word, she continued on to the elevator bank, her hips swaying because she knew they were watching as she went to press the call button. A bell sounded immediately - a car was already on the basement floor - and she immediately went to the opening doors. She held her finger to the 'door open' button until he was inside with her. Then she touched her finger to the button marked '16' and the doors noiselessly slid closed. Her eyes never left his steely grays, pride coursing through her as she saw the approval and hunger in them.

"Come here," he said.

She gave him a coquettish smile before she closed the distance between them, close enough that the tips of her breasts made contact with his chest and she could put her hands on his shoulders. "What do you want, Mr. Haydn?" she asked casually.

He didn't answer and she stood still as he undid the rest of the shirt's already too-few closed buttons.

"You, Miss Banet," he answered finally, when he was done with the buttons, the shirt open around her naked body as his hands, her body responding with an explosion of warmth as he caressed her heaving breasts. "Always."

"Still not convinced?" he asked as his hands settled on her hips. "That you're the most beautiful woman in the world?"

She smiled wider behind her mask and shook her head her hands still on his shoulders, a little breathless, and more than a little amazed at how little she cared that she was naked. "No." She pulled his head down to her. "I'm not convinced at all ..."

The door chimed open at the sixteenth floor, the ascent from the basement uninterrupted - it was two o'clock in the morning on a workday after all, and all reasonable, sensible people were asleep.

She abruptly broke the kiss, a wicked smile on her lips, and walked out ahead of him, making no move to close the shirt or cover herself. Instead, she lifted the ends of the shirt and tied it under her breasts, careful not to cover them. She didn't bother looking back, she could hear his footfalls behind her on the thick carpet, the weight of his gaze on her body, on her exposed butt as she swayed in front of him, reveling in the heady wickedness of her sexuality.

She opened her clutch bag and brought out her key card when she got to the door of their hotel suite. She slid it into the slot and heard the tiny beep of the reader, saw the small LED by the handle flashing green. She turned the handle, the door swinging open on its hinges until it banged on the doorstop in the hallway behind it. Then she turned around and spread her arms and legs across the open doorway, blocking it.

He stopped when he saw her, her arms and legs spread in an X across the door, wearing little more than her shoes and jewelry, the tied shirt covering nothing of her breasts above the loose knot over the tiny slit of her belly button. Her smile went wider as she met his eyes, and she pushed her swollen breasts out so they stood high and proud as he came up to her.

Naturally, he took them in his hands, kneading them, making her eyes flutter as his fingers stroked over her already too-sensitive nipples.

"Aren't we going in?" he asked after a while, leaning forward, his mouth an inch or two away from her parted lips.

"No," she breathed.

He smiled. "Why?"

She swallowed, shuddering as his fingers brought the brown tips of her boobs to full painful attention again before his hands went down to rest on her ribcage, just under her heaving breasts. "I want you naked," she said. "Here. Now."

He looked at her for a long moment, the smile still on his lips.

"Strip, Mr. Haydn," she ordered. "Take everything off."

He kissed her then, hard, and then he stepped back, letting go of her body as he lifted one foot after the other and removed his shoes, letting them drop to the floor with muffled thuds on the carpeted hallway floor. He began to shrug out of his jacket, eyes locked on hers, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She watched him as he slipped his jacket off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He swiftly removed his T-shirt, letting it fall to join the jacket on the hallway carpet as well. He undid his belt next, letting it coil up on the floor at his feet. He unbuttoned his trousers, pulled both it and his rich cotton boxer shorts down his legs, his erection free of its confines. He stepped out of the puddle of his clothing around his ankles, naked save for his socks and the watch on his wrist.

"Satisfied?" he asked.

She looked at him and sniffed, "I said everything."

He shrugged again, and removed his watch - a Piaget - and lifted each foot to roll off his socks, dropping everything to the floor. "Satisfied?" he repeated.

She wrinkled her nose and sniffed again. "Maybe."

Honor stepped out of the doorway, taking the two steps that closed the distance between them. Her hard nipples pressed into his chest as she looked up at him and licked her tongue over his lips. "I need to inspect the merchandise." His hands reached for her then, going from his sides to her waist, and she let them touch her before she caught them at the wrists, just under her gently heaving breasts. "Keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Haydn," she snapped, her eyes full of wicked promise.

He took a deep breath, showing that he was not quite as calm as he was pretending to be, and let his hands fall back to his sides.

She kept their bodies touching his as she moved around him; her breasts, her thighs, her hips, her hands, her lips - feeling, touching, exploring, caressing. His breathing became rough and unsteady as she went behind him, her lips and tongue following the line of his spine down his back, her hands caressing down his sides, her breasts pressed and stroking against him as she kissed and licked up and down his body.

"Not too bad ..." she whispered in his ear. She continued her circuit around him, planting kisses on his shoulders, across his chest, flicking her tongue out over his nipples as he let out a small growl and shuddered against her.

"I'm glad," he said.

He shuddered again as her hand went below, between his legs to his now painfully erect member, her other hand going behind his neck as she brought his head down and licked at his lips again. She moaned delightedly as he let out a loud grunt of pleasure, at the sudden sharp intake of breath against her lips as he responded to her, an explosion of warmth between her legs as she felt his cock pulse in her hand and the sticky wetness of pre-cum on her fingers.

She melded her body against him, goosebumps rising all over her skin. She took his balls in her hand, playing with them before traveling up his shaft, using the copious pre-cum leaking out of him as lubrication. He grunted again and reached for her. Again, she let him touch her, his hands rough and insistent as they traveled down her back, caressing through the fabric of the shirt that was still tied beneath her breasts to squeeze the roundness of her butt, his fingers questing between the twin fleshy swells, seeking her heat.

She broke the kiss just before his fingers could reach their intended destination, breathing hard, her breasts pressed against his chest. "Keep your hands," she repeated, "to yourself, Mr. Haydn."

He stared at her for a long time, breathing hard as well, as much from the effort of holding on to his self-control as the fact that she was still stroking him. He shuddered again and she felt even more liquid spill onto her fingers from the pulsing member in her hand as his hands left her body and returned to his sides.

He was close, she knew, as she brought his head back down and began to trace her tongue around his lips, knowing that she wouldn't be able to continue the game she was playing much longer.

He shuddered again, growling at the back of his throat as more pre-cum went on her fingers.

She smiled as she kissed a line down his jaw; he was much closer now.

She was shaking as well; every part of her body flushed with heat and goosebumped. She could feel the wetness coating her inner thighs and smell the vivid and unmistakable scent of her own arousal, the starchy scent of his cum as it steadily leaked onto her stroking fingers.

"Bad boy," she said, giving him an admonishing look, a moue on her lips. "You're making a mess ..."

He shuddered again, this time his growl loud enough to remind her that they were out in the corridor and anyone who thought to peek out of their door would see a woman in nothing more than a man's shirt, many sizes too big for her and tied under her breasts so it hid nothing, with her hand wrapped around a completely naked man's erection. Even more, they'd see that the man was on the verge of coming.

She couldn't even begin to imagine what everyone who knew her - even more so, what sensible and disciplined Honor Banet, the woman she had been until recently, would have thought ...

It made her smile as she pressed her lips against his collarbone. She felt no shame - she was beyond such mundane emotions and notions of propriety. She was a woman pleasuring a man; what could be more natural?

She felt him shudder again, jerking in her hand, felt his breathing change, and she knew it was time. She quickly lifted her face to press her lips against his in a quick and hard kiss.

Then she smoothly sank to her knees, kneeling, her hand still wrapped around him. She kissed his cock, gently licking out with her tongue, heard and felt him react, felt another explosion of heat blossom between her legs and spread up to her breasts, and then, she simply opened her mouth and closed it around his member. He let out a loud cry, jerking in a way that told her all she needed to know, and she automatically locked her lips around him, determinedly swallowing as he unloaded himself in her mouth.

She remained on her knees in front of him when he was done, trailing her tongue up and down his now flaccid length as she carefully took her time to make him clean, using the sounds he made and the hands he was running through her hair to guide her. She felt him start to harden again as she carefully swallowed his scrotum into her mouth for cleaning as well. Then, because sensible, disciplined, fastidious Honor Banet was always thorough, she took him into her mouth again, just to be sure.

He was growling again in that tell-tale way when she was finally satisfied that he was as clean as she could make him, his manhood somewhere north of halfmast. She stood up, brightly smiling as she put her arms around his neck, her breasts and pebble hard nipples pressing into his chest, his rapidly expanding member pushing into the soft skin of her belly.

"There," she breathed. "All nice and clean."

This time when he reached for her, there was no admonition to keep his hands to himself—quite the opposite, in fact.

"Are you satisfied with the 'merchandise', Miss Banet?" he asked as he fondled her breasts.

She brought her lips close to his, a hand dropping from the back of his neck to cup and squeeze his butt. "For now, Mr. Haydn ... I need to 'inspect' a lot more to make sure." She licked at his lips.

He raised an eyebrow, expression mild. "I hope you don't mind if I do some 'inspecting' of my own."

She made a sound halfway between a purr and moan as a hand went beneath her, and without really thinking, she lifted a foot to her toes to give him access. "Be my guest." She leaned forward to kiss him as his fingers inerrantly found her pussy again, making her gasp in pleasure against his mouth as they slid inside her.

She flexed her belly against his cock, feeling the near-full hardness of it against her body and smiling at him, lips parting as his fingers exited and began to trace her folds. She was profoundly, intensely, shamefully wet. "Satisfied, Mr. Haydn?" she asked, after he was done kissing her.

"No," he said, smiling evilly.

She shivered, cooing softly, her eyes fluttering closed as his fingers entered her again.

"I'm only getting started," he said, nose touching hers.

His fingers left her and she stood, breathless and wide-eyed, as he untied her borrowed shirt and removed it from her body, letting it fall to the carpet to join the pile of clothes at their feet as he gently pushed and leaned her back against the wall. She gasped, closing her eyes and keening out loud as he roughly bit her nipples, her body undulating as he trailed a path with his tongue down between her breasts, over her belly and, finally, between her legs. She cried out then, loudly, not caring that they were still in a hotel corridor as his tongue traced over her clit and speared into her pussy.

He didn't care either, and he took his time to do it again and again, building up a rhythm until her entire body went stiff and she let out a barely stifled scream, holding his head.

She was shaking uncontrollably when he finally stood up, cum streaming in slow rivulets out of her pussy, aroused beyond speech, eyes staring wide and nipples pointing rudely at him. He kissed her again, and she hungrily licked her liquid from around his lips before he bent and put his arms under her legs. He easily lifted her up, her legs spread over his arms, her back against the wall, eyes looking into hers. She knew what he was going to do, and she could only stare back into his eyes as she felt him at her entrance, stiffening and gasping out a sob of delight as he slowly lowered her to his cock, arching against the wall as her swollen netherlips parted to accept him into her body.

She was still for a moment, adjusting to his presence, breathing ragged and deep, her breasts heaving as she finally smiled down at him, her mask somewhat askew. Then she lowered her lips over his and kissed him, long and unhurried. United. One.

She was still kissing him, still deliciously impaled on his hardness, when, finally, he carried her through the open door of Suite 1615, his clothes, watch, shoes, much like her dress in the basement below, thoroughly forgotten as he kicked the door closed.

________________________

"Hey," she said, when Sarah picked up the phone. "Just calling you back."

"Hey yourself," Sarah responded. "What are you doing? How's Bangkok? When are you coming back?"

Honor answered all three questions. "I'm in bed. Bangkok is great. And like I said, I'm flying back tomorrow morning."

"In bed already?" Sarah sounded disappointed.

"Yes," Honor said truthfully. "In bed."

"You can be such a damn--!" Sarah swore. "You're in Bangkok, for goodness sake!"

"And? People don't go to sleep in Bangkok?"

"You should be out doing ... something!" Sarah exclaimed.

Honor couldn't stop herself from smiling. "Like what?"

"Like ... something!" Sarah sputtered. "Like ... having one last fling!"

"Sarah!"

"Would serve David right for not being there," Sarah muttered.

"It's okay," Honor said, meaning it. "I guess trying to surprise him was just not a smart idea."

"Where is he now?" Sarah asked.

Honor had to close her eyes before she could lie to her best friend. "Singapore."

"And he couldn't take a sick day, make some excuse, and come see you?"

"No," Honor answered, again closing her eyes. This time it came with the image of her fiancee holding Jillian Blake.

"Serve him right if you fucked that guy that helped you."

'You have no idea,' Honor thought.

"Don't worry, I know you won't," Sarah continued, quickly, to forestall any protest. "You're too much of a good girl."

Honor decided to let that slide. At least, outwardly. Inwardly, she replayed the events of the last few hours and days; the numerous times she'd let a man she barely knew repeatedly invade her body - very much not the actions of a good girl.

Distantly, she heard her friend ask. "What time is it over there?"

Honor looked at the bedside clock. "02: 34. AM."

"Well, I hope you at least went out and had some fun," Sarah said.

"I did, actually," she answered, truthfully this time. "Took lots of pictures."

"Really?"

"Yes," said Honor, "Went to the Wat Phra Kaew, the Wat Pho and ..."

"The temples?"

"Yes."

"That's good," Sarah said, sounding a little mollified. "At least, you saw the sights."

"I'm glad you approve."

"I'd approve even more if you got laid."

Honor squirmed, remembering the taste of Marq in her mouth. And she was suddenly tempted to tell Sarah how close to the mark she was. "Sarah ..."

"Relax," Sarah interrupted, sighing. "I know how crazy you are about him. And I know you know how I feel about him."

Sarah's opinion that David thought too highly of himself was a long standing bone of contention between them.

"I'm just being a bitch," Sarah continued.

Honor laughed, relieved. "Excuse me ... when are you ever not being a bitch?"

"My point exactly."

They both giggled.

"Anyway, I need to go. Fixing up something and I want to get it done before closing time," Sarah said, "Let me know when you're on the plane and when I should pick you up from the airport."

Honor smiled. "I will."

There was a pause, then Sarah said, "By the way, I met this guy yesterday ..."

Honor made a happy noise. "What guy?"

"His name is Bryan Thomas."

"Who is he? What does he do?"

"Well, he's an exec for one of our clients," Sarah said, sounding suddenly breathless, "And he asked me out."

"Did you say yes?"

"He's super cute," Sarah responded, "What do you think?"

Honor smiled as she pictured Sarah's excitement. "So, when is this date?"

"Night after tomorrow."

"And you're going to tell me all about it, right?"

"We'll see," Sarah teased.

Honor sniffed. "You're such a bitch."

Sarah laughed. "Yes, I am." There was a sound of shuffling paper, before she continued. "Okay, I need to get back to work, so I'll let you get some sleep." Sarah said. "Bye, hon. Miss you."

"Miss you too," Honor answered, truthfully again. "Bye."

Sarah clicked off and Honor put the phone down.

"You bastard!" she hissed.

He chuckled quietly.

Then her eyes fluttered closed, leaning back against his chest as his hands stroked up from her pussy to cup her still swollen breasts, a purring sound emanating from her throat. She shuddered fitfully when his tongue began to trace the whorls of her ear again.

Calling Sarah had been his idea - to pre-empt any 'interruptions.' His molesting and caressing of her body while she was on the call and the fact that she had enjoyed every moment of it, was almost enough to make her start thinking of how dangerous this situation had just become - and how much more difficult it would be to forget Bangkok when she got back home.

But he was already hard, his caresses becoming less gentle, more hungry, and Honor found herself responding, strangely enjoying his manhandling, his roughness as he laid her on her back. He entered her with another loud growl of pleasure, one she answered with a growl of her own as she felt herself parting around him, taking him inside her body.

He took her lips again, and again, she wondered what Sarah would think as she hungrily kissed him back.

Then he began to fuck her, and Sarah was very sharply forgotten.