She arrived at the Grand Imperial, and rode the elevator up to the sixteenth floor, sharing the lift along the way with two Asian gentlemen who made every effort to avoid staring at her bared mid-riff and obviously unrestrained breasts under her shirt, and a blonde business-suited woman who only made a perfunctory attempt.

She opened the door to Suite 1615, heaving a sigh of relief at finding it quiet, unoccupied, the lights flickering on as she entered.

She sent a text to her parents and to her sisters before she showered for the third time that day and dressed in her sole purchase from Pécheressa's, making sure she sent another text to Sarah, telling her she was okay before padding back to the living room, deliberately leaving her phone behind.

She made another pot of mint and chamomile tea, and brought the teapot and a cup with her to the sofa, placing them both on the coffee table, fastidiously finding a coaster for each one as she sat. A coil of heat pulsed between her legs as she eyed the table, her mind suddenly replaying Marq bending her over the very same item of furniture, the moment his member made its entry into her body for the very first time, her breasts pressed against the table's surface as he rode her through an orgasm.

Honor allowed herself to relive the moment, allowed herself to remember the feeling of his semen being released inside her, to feel her nipples become engorged and the heat between her legs swelling through her body, quivering as she replayed the rest of the night, watching him pay for her, the ease with which he had rendered her 'no kissing' policy moot that same night.

She remembered waking up in a naked stupor in the morning, his strength and confidence as he repeatedly used her body with no apology, making her miss her flight ...

She realized that her breathing had become elevated, and she forced herself to calm as she picked up the hotel provided tablet computer from the coffee table. She made a half annoyed, half amused moue at herself, imagining what anyone who knew sensible disciplined Honor Banet would think if they could see her right then, if they could see what she was thinking, before putting on the long neglected pair of reading glasses she had packed along for her trip to Bangkok and never sought out until then.

She carefully navigated through the Grand Imperial's vast electronic library of books, finding a familiar publishing house's familiar catalogue, all with their familiar risque covers, of faceless women in various states of undress, before what was left of sensible disciplined Honor Banet emerged to lead her to another entirely different, less indulgent genre.

She was excited enough already.

She took a sip of her tea and folded her legs underneath her, settling in to read yet another book about successfully opening and running a patisserie. After three pages, she thoughtfully picked up the hotel's monogrammed notepad and pen from the coffee table.

She was on her third cup of tea, a half-dozen pages of scribbled notes and more than three dozen pages into a far more engaging 'Baking for Fun and Profit' than she'd anticipated, when Honor heard the door beep and the click of the lock mechanically unlatching itself.

She heard him step in and shut the door, and she looked up as he entered the living room from the hallway, his suitcase in hand, jacket off and tie loose around his neck.

"Hello," she said.

For a long moment, he just looked at her, his eyes traveling over her body as she let him see her.

She was wearing the open fronted nightgown, the black version, framing her nakedness.

He put down his briefcase and jacket. "Hello, Miss Banet," he said.

Honor noted two things as he looked at her - one; that her heart had started beating faster, accompanying the sudden Pavlovian explosion of heat in her lower abdomen.

The second thing was that he looked thoroughly exhausted.

It was what made her get up to go to him, the tablet and notepad falling ignored off her naked lap, forgetting the glasses on her nose and all thought of bakery economics, as something that was utterly and completely female overcame her instead, consuming her with the need to reach him, to kiss and hold him against her breasts, to give him the solace that could only come from a woman.

He met her halfway, taking her up in his arms as she eagerly sought his lips, their glasses clinking against each other.

It took her only a moment, to feel the strength of his fingers on her skin, the way he held her, his bulging against her belly, for her to realize that he wasn't 'too' exhausted, that he had liked - more than liked - what he had seen.

She helped him yank off his belt and pull his pants and boxers down, her movements feverish, desperate to sheathe him inside her. They were on the carpet in the next moment, both pairs of glasses coming off as they got in the way, his mouth on her nipples, kissing, sucking, biting, her legs spreading wide to contain him, her hand reaching to guide him into her opening. He entered her with a loud growl of pleasure, and she answered him with her own cry of delight, body arching as she melded herself against him, finding his lips again as he unceremoniously began to stroke into her pussy.

They rutted there on the carpet, his shirt and tie still on, his pants and underwear bunched around his ankles.

He slid in and out of her with no trace of control, grasping her body with ungentle hands. He growled and buried his face in her neck as she clutched him to her breasts, gasping and squealing as he rode her hard, selfish as he sought his release.

It was exactly what she wanted.

"Yesss ..." she cooed in his ear, flexing her hips, matching his thrusts into her body, wanting him to come, to relieve himself inside her with a need that bordered on the desperate. "Oh my #@%$! ... Yessss! ..."

She felt him stiffen within moments, and she clutched him tighter to herself, locking her legs around him, head thrown back as he thrust into her pussy one last time, holding him until he had emptied the last of his semen into her body, and then holding him to keep him inside her as her hands caressed his back, listening to his breathing calm alongside her own as she continued to whisper and coo in his ear, reveling in the disquieting mixture of satisfaction and pride that flooded through her at the pleasure and release he found inside her.

Inside his odalisque.

Finally, she heaved meaningfully, and he rolled with her until she was on top of him. She lifted herself up to look down at him, smiling before lowering her head to lick at his lips and then kiss him, her nipples deliciously stroking against the hairs of his chest.

"You look exhausted," she said, after a moment of careful examination. "And no," she wagged a finger in his face, "it's not just from the sex."

He smirked. "No fair."

She kissed him again.

"But you're all done?" Honor asked after he was done kissing her back. "The merger and everything ...?"

"Yes, Miss Banet," he said, allowing her to see a small hint of satisfaction. "All done."

She smiled happily, and leaned forward to kiss him again, distantly wondering at her foolishness in ever excluding kissing from their arrangement. "Congratulations, Mr. Haydn."

"Thank you, Miss Banet."

"Now," she said, "let me take care of you."

She helped him take off the rest of his clothes, caressing him as she went, before climbing back on top of him as he sat up against the sofa. She sought his lips again as he settled her on his lap, hands touching and exploring possessively, enough to make the ever present simmering heat between her legs go up several notches, to make her breaths start coming faster and harder. She indulged herself for a while longer, returning his kisses as he touched and fondled her body, moaning quietly as his mouth closed on her neck and nipples, his fingers parting her folds and playing with the mixture of fluid between her legs, opening her mouth when he brought them to her lips to lick them clean.

Finally, with a titanic effort of will, she pulled away, backing away from him before abruptly standing up. Then she reached a hand down to him, her breasts heaving on her chest. "Come with me, Mr. Haydn. I'm putting you to bed."

He considered her for moment, then he placed his hand in hers and stood up, and then he followed her as she led him by the hand to the master bedroom.

The first stop happened just inside the hallway. He simply planted his feet and pulled her back toward him, making her let out a small gasp of startlement as she found herself with her back pressed against the wall. He kissed her, and she kissed him back automatically, instinctively parting her lips for him. Then he left her lips and began to kiss the rest of her body, his tongue twirling on her skin as he effortlessly held her against the wall.

He took his time as his mouth followed her neck, the arch of her throat, the sensitive valley between her breasts, the soft swell of skin around her belly button, and lower still until his mouth was at her cleft and his tongue was laving over her netherlips. Honor called out his name as his tongue touched her again, and again. And again. Then he began the journey back up her body, this time stopping to pay some delirium-inducing attention to the painfully erect tips of her breasts as his fingers replaced his tongue between her legs.

Then his mouth left her nipples and he was kissing her lips again. And then he let her go.

Honor opened her eyes after a long moment, her breaths coming out in keening gasps, knowing he was at full mast before she saw it. It took another titanic effort of will for her to reach for his hand again and wordlessly continue her attempt to lead him to the bedroom.

They made it to the door.

Her hand was on the handle as she was pushing the door open when she found herself being pulled back and enfolded in his arms, the solid mass of his erection pressing against her bottom as questing fingers went between her legs, his other hand going to her breasts, kneading, grasping. She braced herself against the door with both hands as she pressed herself back against him, moaning as his tongue laved over her neck, surrendering without protest. A finger entered her, then another, both digits sliding into the wet warmth of her pussy, pushing in and out of her as he held her up with his other arm ... and then she spasmed, her moan becoming a loud cry as his fingers found the erect nub of flesh over her slit.

He touched and stroked her, making her writhe against him and her breathing come out in gasps as he masturbated her, her body quivering as she rapidly covered his fingers in her liquid. She squealed when he bit into her neck, roughly cupping her breasts and cruelly teasing each painfully erect nipple.

She came without warning, warm liquid gushing out of her pussy and unto the carpet, sobbing out her release as he held her body against him, his mouth planting more kisses and bites on her neck. Dimly, Honor felt him, heard him as he as he set his cock at her entrance as his hands spread over her belly and breasts, his harsh breathing in perfect counterpoint to her own, and then she cried out as he thrust himself inside her again.

Clarity, and the ability to think, barely, returned as he was fucking her, his grunts matching his member's repeated invasion of her vagina.

She loved it; the wickedness, the urgency of him mounting her right in front of the open bedroom door, the cum running down her legs in tiny rivulets of liquid, his hands' rough molesting of her breasts, the way he was grasping her belly and hips, his harsh breathing in her ear. She growled back at him as he pistoned into her, and she found herself bouncing back against his cock - easily falling into a rhythm and moving in time with him.

She turned her head, their lips meeting, shuddering as he squeezed a nipple between his fingers. She had stopped trying to deny the fact that it aroused her—the ease with which he positioned her for his pleasure, how easily she found herself accepting his dominance, but Honor was suddenly no longer content to just submit to his manhandling, to his using of her.

She concentrated then, allowing herself another indulgent moment to enjoy his hands on her body, his hardness inside her, before she parted herself from him and spun around in his arms, his cock making a wet sound as it exited her body. She pressed him back against the wall of the hallway as she melded her body against him, his member still wet and slathered in her cum pressing against her belly as she lifted up on her toes to capture his lips with hers, silencing his growl of protest.

For a moment, she wondered if he would let her, if he would relinquish control; she felt his hands sharply grasp her waist and hips, his muscles bunching. He wanted to be back inside her; his need was palpable as he held her, and it would have been all too easy for him to lift her up and settle her down on his erection, easily ending her play for control. She knew she couldnt, wouldn't, resist, and that he knew it as well ... But he didn't, his hands softened their grip and she took the opportunity to bring her hand between their bodies to wrap around his liquid coated member.

She didn't let go as she broke the kiss. Instead, she met his eyes and smiled before continuing to plant a series of kisses around his jawline and neck, and then over his chest, trailing her mouth down to his stomach, until she was on her knees in front of him, wondering why she was ever embarrassed by the amount of her liquid she always left on his cock. She stroked him as she ran her lips and tongue over his length, breathing the scent of him in, smelling and tasting herself on his shaft. She was laving her tongue over his balls when his hands came to rest on her head, fingers running through her hair.

Honor heard him gasp as she sucked him into her mouth, her hands going to brace herself on his body as his hands tightened in her hair. She bobbed her head back and forth, sliding his cock in and out between her lips, allowing him to guide her with his hands and the sounds she was drawing out of him.

She brought him to the brink with ease, sucking him in deeper as he jerked and cried out, swallowing instinctively as she tasted his pre-cum in her mouth, feeling his body flexing under her hands as she ran them all over his legs and stomach, touching, feeling ... and then simply holding him in her mouth until he calmed. Then she sucked him some more, alternating between carefully licking and twirling her tongue around his shaft and scrotum until he began to stiffen in a way that told her all she needed to know.

She swiftly rose to press her body against him again, laving her tongue over his lips as her as her hand retook possession of his cock. She broke the kiss to catch her breath, leaning against him as his hands hungrily roamed her body, her breathing hard and elevated, matching his own harsh intakes of breath, and then she wordlessly took his hand and led him into the bedroom.

She climbed on top of him as he lay back on the bed, kissing him softly before she gently lowered herself onto his member, letting out a loud sob of pleasure and relief as she took all of him into her body. She paused for a moment to settle herself, to savor his presence inside her as his hands hungrily roamed her belly and breasts, grasping her hips as she began to roll them back and forth, sliding his cock in and out of her pussy.

"Come inside me, Mr. Haydn," Honor said, looking into his eyes, lips parted, hands braced on his chest.

She cooed her encouragement as he abruptly stiffened and grasped her closer, quivering in reaction as he buried his face in her dangling breasts and cried out as he unloaded his cum in her vagina.

She lay on top of him afterward, feeling his member gradually losing its hardness inside her and smiling as she languidly traced the line of his throat and collarbone with her fingers, her own heartbeat loud in her chest as she listened to his breathing slowly calm.

Her nightgown was irreparably torn to pieces.

"You look pretty in glasses, Miss Banet."

She smiled. "So do you, Mr. Haydn."

"Pretty?"

"Yes." She grinned, lifting her head up to look down at him, moving carefully to keep him inside her. "Beautiful even."

He laughed, and, unable to resist, she leaned down and kissed him. She felt his hand travel up to cup her butt, squeezing.

"No, Mr. Haydn," she said, breaking the kiss. "You need to sleep."

He looked into her eyes for a long moment. "Thank you."

"For what?" she asked, confused.

He ran his fingers down her jawline, his eyes traveling all over her face. "For coming back," he said, "For waiting for me. For being here."

The sudden onrush of emotion that blossomed through her was beyond dangerous, she knew.

The sequence of events since her arrival in Bangkok replayed itself in her mind; how she had gone from eagerly boarding a plane to fly halfway across the world to surprise her fiancee, to finding herself lying naked on top of another man, who even then still had his cock inside her pussy.

Not for the first time, she imagined how different the past five days would have been if she had come to find David alone in his room, working hard on the bank merger instead of finding him on a dancefloor with Jillian Blake in her slinky dress. Then she wouldn't have run out to enter that fateful waiting taxi.

It was ridiculous, she thought, even as she acknowledged the fact that an alternate reality - one in which David Brenner was the man she had thought he was, one in which she would have never met Marquin Haydn - suddenly held no appeal for her.

She was in trouble, she realized, as she met Marq's considering gaze. She smiled and quickly lowered her lips over his again, as much to forestall any unhelpful displays of emotion on her part as to obey the ever present desire to kiss him.

"You're welcome," she said at last.

They'd made a deal; he'd paid for her, and now she, Honor decided, would see her part of the deal through.

She was his odalisque.

And, she decided, she would enjoy it to the very end.

________________________

It was a day later, and Honor was watching the sun make its descent in the west, the city's lights gradually coming on as rush hour traffic seethed on the streets below. The Wat Arun shone white in the distance against the gleam of the Chao Phraya, the river once again dotted with boats and yachts of various sizes. They were on one of the balcony's luxuriously cushioned lounge chairs, Marq resting on the angled back of the chair, holding her as she lay back comfortably against his chest, finding the evening air pleasantly warm on her skin as she took in the sights of the Bangkok skyline in the evening, the brilliance of the sunset once again stunning her with its beauty.

Her eyes fell on the edifice of the Excelsior across from the Grand Imperial, drawn by the orange glare of the setting sun on its windows. 'Was David in there right now?' she wondered again, absently, not entirely surprised at how little she had thought of her fiancee before then, despite the fact that he had called that afternoon.

Which had been awkward because she had been naked and sprawled on the bed, still somewhat breathless after being vigorously ridden by another man, and in the process of being used by him again. Even more awkward was that it had been Marq, his cock still erect and covered in her liquid, who had picked up the ringing phone, looked at the screen, and wordlessly handed it to her.

Honor could not remember much of the conversation. Marq had given her the phone, and continued his kissing and licking tour of her body, his tongue resuming the long scenic journey that had begun at her neck, making its way down from her nipples and down to her heaving belly. She made no move to stop him as he parted her legs, his head going between her thighs, his tongue laving at her pussy. She had known it would be pointless, and she bit her lip to stifle her gasps of pleasure as she held the phone to her ear, attempting to make sense of what David was saying and make sense in her responses.

"Honor?" David had prompted, when yet another pause had taken too long. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Honor had panted, directing a pleading look at Marq, who was planting a trail of kisses on the slimy, swollen petals of her labia. He met her eyes, and, as she knew he would, he ignored her. "Nothing's wrong."

Both of her legs were lifted up as Marq opened her up and began to feast on her, and it had taken all of her concentration and willpower to keep herself from screaming. She yanked a pillow toward her and bit into it instead as she listened to David tell her a story detailing his latest act of legal brilliance, which had once more kept the merger from falling apart.

"I miss you, baby," David had said at last.

"I ... " Honor bit the pillow hard as Marq's tongue flickered over her clit, feeling utterly helpless and wicked as she struggled to complete the sentence. "I miss you ...too!"

David picked up on the strange pause. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said, her voice sounding strangled in her own ears. "Just ... busy. Line's bad ... I think. When are you ... coming back?"

"Soon," David assured her. "Another two or three weeks, and we should be all done."

Marq's head lifted up from between her legs and he began to kiss his way up to her breasts.

She bit the pillow again as he took a nipple into his mouth, teasing her with his tongue, making her writhe and shudder helplessly, before going to her other breast and repeating the same procedure and getting the same result.

The call ended just in time, because there was no possibility that she could have stopped her scream of pleasure when Marq entered her; Marq had sadistically taken away the pillow when he was kissing her - her last words of farewell had to be spoken quickly, in between kisses, Marq easily retaking her lips every time she broke free. The utter wickedness of it, speaking to her fiancee while another man was having his way with her, made her come within seconds when he started to move, screaming again as she soaked the sheets beneath them, clutching at him helplessly as he selfishly continued to fuck her.

Her attempt to glare at him for the episode afterward had only earned her a smug smile and another breath stealing kiss.

Now, Honor smiled as she felt his lips brush her neck, at the sensitive spot just under her ear, his arms possessively wrapped around her.

Honor was recounting her afternoon at the Culinary Institute of Siam, unable to hide her excitement at the praise she'd won from Phillippe Dufour and Somsak Kurusarttra. "I still can't believe Phillippe Dufour liked something I made."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," said Marq.

She turned her head, lips parted and seeking.

"Thank you," she said, after the kiss.

Marq smiled. "You're welcome."

"How do you know them?" she asked after a moment.

Marq kissed her neck. "Phillippe and Somsak?"

"Yes."

"I met Phillippe in Geneva some years ago. We invested in his production company." Marq said. "He introduced me to Somsak."

"He's ..." Honor tried to find the word, "... interesting."

Marq laughed. "You mean he flatters and flirts outrageously?"

Honor giggled. "Yes."

"Did you like it?" Marq asked. "The flirting?"

"How do you know he flirted with me?" Honor teased.

"It is impossible that he did not."

She furled her lip playfully. "Jealous?"

Marq cupped her breasts and growled, squeezing. "Very."

She felt a disturbing surge of pleasure at that, and she turned her head, smiling at him. "Don't be."

He kissed her again, and she quivered slightly in reaction as his fingers brushed over one of her nipples, which responded by standing even more to attention on her bared breast.

That she was entirely nude would have been jarring enough on its own. Even more disturbing was that her feet were drawn up together and her knees were fully parted and open, resting on top on his ... while his fingers were right then resting on the downy strip of hair between her legs.

She felt a flush of heat, feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable - her thighs, her pussy, as spread apart as they could be. Yet, she had not protested when he told her what he wanted. She had simply obeyed - at once embarrassed and excited for him to feel how wet he made her, knowing how thoroughly she coated his fingers with her liquid when he touched her.

Besides, she thought, flushing with heat again, rationalizing and aware of it; it was absurd for her to start showing any concern for modesty at that point, given the spattering of semen still gleaming wetly on her stomach, replaying in her mind how it had gotten there.

It was little more than half an hour earlier that he had brought her out to the balcony, stripped of what little clothing he had allowed her to wear since she had woken up naked on top of him.

He had wanted her on the balcony, in the daylight, and that was that.

She was his odalisque.

He had taken her to the railing, lowered his trousers to free his cock and mounted her from behind, unmindful of any watching eyes as he entered her body. She had wrapped her fingers around the railings as he rode her, his hands kneading her hips and breasts, fingers caressing erect sensitive nipples. She had stopped trying to stifle her cries, stopped caring about being seen when he exited from her, still hard, and carried her to the table, sitting her up, her hands braced behind her on the table top as he held her legs open and slid his member inside her again, their lips meeting hungrily as she matched his movements.

He withdrew to spurt his cum on her belly, growling his pleasure as she gasped and let loose a gush of her own liquid to splash all over the table surface.

The hidden part of her that responded to being dominated, possessed, manhandled, ravished, that enjoyed being displayed, even if only for his own pleasure, was forcefully brought to the fore as he kept her on the table, kissing, fondling and exploring her naked body until she came again from the attention.

It was a clear unequivocal establishment of the nature of their relationship, taking her out in the open, even if sixteen stories up, a clear demonstration of the full import of the agreement she had entered into. She was his to do with as he wished, her body to be used for his pleasure when and where he wanted.

Whether anyone was watching or not.

Afterward, without being prompted, she had knelt down to clean his cock of his cum and hers. Then, he had calmly pulled his trousers back up, lifted her up to her feet and kissed her to breathlessness, fondling her body some more, and then carried her over to the lounge chair.

The unfairness of it all; the enforced abandonment of any semblance of modesty on her part, the blatant double standard of his being clothed while every intimate part of her body was exposed - and used - no longer mattered, if it ever did.

It disturbed her, but she had embraced it, surrendered to it, and, she realized ... surrendered to him.

She was his odalisque.

Which explained how she found herself, nude and lying back against his chest, with his semen on her belly and her pussy lewdly spread open for his pleasure on a hotel balcony. She could smell herself in the evening air around them, herself and the starchy scent of his cum joined with hers on her body. It was not unpleasant, and she found herself even enjoying it as he touched her.

Despite it all, even with all the pauses that came from him kissing, touching, and caressing her, talking to him was no more difficult than it had been on the 'Queen of the River'. Which was what was truly disturbing about her current situation, that she was so comfortable being naked and exposed ... and played with.

Marq decided to cup her breasts again at that moment, making her shudder as the erect and sensitive brown nubs of her nipples suddenly found themselves being pressed against his palms.

"You're going to get bored with them soon," she said, after a long savoring moment, relaxing into his caress.

"Really? Bored?"

"Yes."

"You think I will get 'bored'," he squeezed them again, clearly amused at the prospect, "of your breasts?"

She turned her head. "Half of the entire world either has them ... or will have them at some point, Mr. Haydn."

He made a show of pausing to consider her point, "And your point is ...?"

She made an exasperated noise. "Don't you work with any women in your office?"

He grinned, and sounded proud as he responded. "Women are forty-five percent of Ascent's staff."

"So," Honor retorted, "I assume they all have boobs?"

"Yes. You assume right." He playfully jiggled her breasts in his hands. "In all shapes and sizes."

"Sexist pig," she sniffed, furling up her lip at him.

"Any man who tells you he doesn't look is lying."

She sniffed again, more than aware of how incongruous it was that he was playing with her breasts, and that she was enjoying it, at that very moment. "So how do you get any work done, if you're so obsessed with breasts?"

"They're not usually naked, Miss Banet."

She let out a dramatic gasp of consternation, but made no move to cover herself, sit up, or pull his hands away from her breasts. Instead, she turned her head to look at him again with a look of mock outrage. "And whose fault is it that I'm naked?"

"Mine," he said easily, "I take full responsibility."

She sniffed, mollified, barely. "It's not fair."

"Have you considered that it's not just your breasts I'm obsessed with ..." he said in her ear, squeezing her breasts again, licking out with his tongue. "Maybe I'm also obsessed with your lips, your nose, your legs, your butt, your hair, your skin ... the way you smell ..."

She shuddered, heat flushing to her face as he took a sniff of her skin, his long intake of breath at the join of her neck and shoulder. He was hard again, she realized, his member pressing against her back.

Then one hand left her breasts to go back down between her parted legs. Her breathing became deeper, arching in anticipation as she watched his fingers pass over her mound, her mouth opening in a gasp when they pressed in to penetrate her folds, going inside her. She turned her head again, her hand going behind his neck to keep him in place as she caught his lips with hers as he began to stroke his fingers in and out of her pussy, aware that she was being fingered in the open air and firmly pushing the thought to the back of her mind.

She had to acknowledge that he had gotten very good at masturbating her, his fingers following the tiny whimpers and gasps she was letting out to guide him. It didn't take him long to make her come, her body writhing fitfully against him as she squealed and let loose another gush of liquid. Their lips met again as his hands went up to knead her breasts and pinch her nipples, then she licked his wet fingers clean when he brought them to her mouth.

She sat up off him then, so he could take off his pyjama bottoms, helping him tear them off his legs and fling them across the balcony floor. Unthinking, she climbed back on top of him, all hungry predator as she roughly pushed him back and straddled him on the lounge chair, positioning herself over his member. She met his eyes as she reached down beneath her to set him at her entrance with her hand, shuddering as she felt him nosing into her slit and answering his growl of pleasure with her own loud sob of delight as she lowered herself unto his cock, eyes fluttering closed and breasts heaving as she settled on him, openly enjoying his presence inside her.

"Look at me, Honor," he said.

She opened her eyes to look down at him, quivering as he stroked his hands up to her breasts, teasing her engorged nipples as they rudely pointed at him.

"I'll never get bored of you. Of any part of you," Marq said. "Do you hear me?"

A surge of heat flooded her face, the pure desire and hunger for her in his eyes bringing forth the same strange mix of pride and shy embarrassment that had become all-too-familiar since Marq Haydn had entered her life. It was absurd, she thought; she was naked, he was holding her breasts ... and he was right then, inside her. And yet, he could still make her feel embarrassed, just by looking at her.

"Do you hear me, Miss Banet?" Marq repeated.

Honor tried to quell the sudden dangerous upsurge of emotion that rose through her, and failed.

So she just smiled. "Yes, Mr. Haydn."

"Good," he said.

She let him pull her down as she began to move on top of him, let him capture her lips with his, let his hands hungrily touch and explore her body. She was on top, but she knew from the way he held her, the way he moved with her, that he was in control, that, as she had come to accept, it was going to go his way. He had come recently, she remembered, the evidence of it still sticky and damp on her belly, so their joining was going to be slow and deliberate. He grasped and slowed her down when her movements became too excited, firmly bringing her back under control, repeatedly stopping her so he could kiss the swells of her breasts and take each erect nipple into his mouth, so he could kiss and lave his tongue on her neck and between her breasts, so he could kiss her and she could kiss him.

The sun continued to sink under the horizon, the city lights coming on fully against the oncoming night as they fucked in the open air, her pussy increasingly leaving a heavy coating of lubrication on his member, increasingly unable to keep herself from vocalizing her pleasure as he openly caressed and fondled her body.

She came with a loud cry, collapsing on top of him as she released another gush of liquid. She sobbed her delight and encouragement as he continued to move inside her, the force and tempo of his thrusts into her vagina sharply going up before he abruptly let out his own cry, finding his own release. She sat up to watch him come, relishing the warmth of his semen spurting up into her pussy, feeling the familiar mix of joy and pride welling up and spreading through her as she witnessed the pleasure her body gave him.

She kissed him when he was done, leaning forward to hungrily lick and capture his lips, wondering again at her foolishness in ever thinking of imposing a 'no kissing' rule.

They kissed for a long while, languid, relaxed, unhurried.

She knew that even sixteen floors up, they could be seen from a number of plausible angles; including from at least two of the Grand Imperial's other balconies ... if the rooms' occupants ever came out and happened to look in just the right direction. She simply didn't care.

Even if she could be seen from the bank of windows of her fiancee's hotel, facing them just across the boulevard.

Honor cast a long, pensive look at the now brightly lit Excelsior as she finally laid her head on Marq's chest, remembering something David had said as Marq's fingers stroked her hair and her eyes fluttered closed; he was back in Bangkok.