Reclaiming Her - The Conference

A story from his perspective. The danger of submitting to the same conference right before a breakup is finding that you can't resist claiming her, even if you shouldn't.

Includes fingering, claiming, domination, orgasms in public, choking, dubious consent, and just enough roughness.

I shouldn't have come. I knew I shouldn't be here, watching her present, having to speak on the same panel. I knew it would rip my heart out. But like a magnet, I was drawn against my will - I had to be here. I had to fulfill the dream we both had. Present on this topic together, share the things we'd so thoroughly discussed over so many years.

And here she is, speaking with a confidence that astounds me. I know she's terrified, that her hands shake behind the podium, but no one else seems to notice. Thank god I went first. I didn't have to look at her to feel her eyes burning into me, but I pretended to be unphased, unaffected. I secretly hope it bothered her.

It's adorable how little she can hide from me. Trying to covertly glance at me when she finished, seeing if I approve. God I want her to know I do, that I think she's brilliant. But I can't show my cards. I can't expose my feelings to her like that.

Wait. That look. I know that look. That's not the same as a moment ago. Fuck. It's written all over her face - she wants me and doesn't want to show it. That subconscious lick of her lips as she looked me over.. I know what wearing a suit does to her, but I thought she'd moved on. I can't stop myself from fiddling with my already straight cufflinks, just to watch her squirm as her eyes narrow in on my hands.

Maybe... yep, there it is. The flaming cheeks in response to my narrowed eyes. She wants me, but she's ashamed. Does she think I don't want her? Surely it's obvious... but then again, I have worked very hard to keep my cards close to my vest where she's concerned.

Fuck. She's crossing her legs over and over. She's adjusting her sleeves. She's hot and has no idea how much I'm catching.

I sit, stoic, as the panel ends and she begins to walk out. There's no way that tight black dress and my favorite heels were an accident. Maybe a subconscious choice, sure, but it's becoming clear what was on her mind when she chose it. And the pearls, long enough to wear low, yet wrapped like a choker around her neck. I groan inwardly as I realize - everything about her outfit was for my benefit. Was she trying to make me jealous?

I survey the men in the room and the fact that I'm not the only one appreciating her ass in that dress. Fuck. That.

Before I have time to talk myself out of it, I'm out of my chair, following that ass like the goddamn holy grail.

She steps into the hallway, and it doesn't even register that I've taken her elbow to lead her around the corner until we're there and she looks at me with big round eyes. I can see a thousand questions bubbling in them while I try to get a handle on myself.

But then she bites her lip, looks down, and pushes her hair behind her ear and the next thing I know, my lips are on hers and she's against the wall. I'm like a man drowning, and her mouth is the only thing keeping me alive. God the taste of her. I can't seem to get enough.

Her hands go to my chest as if to push me away. I give her that moment to decide, lingering a breath away from her mouth while her eyes flicker with conflict. When she quietly whimpers and her hands close around the fabric of my lapels, I know: she's still mine.

The realization burns inside me, violent and protective. Mine. Mine to see, mine to taste, mine to conquer.

I pull back enough to see the question in her eyes. Before she has enough time to voice it, one hand is on her throat and the other is reaching up her skirt. I need to feel her. I need to see the power I have over her. I need to confirm that I can still make her fall apart with a touch.

I feel her tense slightly as my fingers graze her panties. As they slide beneath to the bundle of nerves I know will undo her, I watch the emotions play across her face. Confusion. Longing. Uncertainty. Desire. I can't help but wonder if I have seen these panties before, or if, like the curve-hugging dress she'd have been too self-conscious to wear a year ago, they are new to me.

If she speaks, she'll talk herself out of it. My hand presses slightly harder on her throat as my fingers begin their ministrations. The movement is so familiar, I can feel my insides sigh in contentment. Fuck. I know I'm whipped when I start thinking that a pussy feels like home.

I go a little faster, watching her pupils dilate as she stares at me. When her breathing starts to falter, I know. I release the pressure on her throat and dig my fingers into her hair.

"Tell me you want this."

Everything about her body's reaction says she wants it as much as I do, but I need to hear it. But I can see the battle in her eyes, feel the control she's trying to maintain over her reactions.

I slide a finger inside her and watch her silent moan, revel in the way her body curves into me. I tilt her head back by her hair, forcing her eyes back up to me.

"Tell me, little girl. Tell me you want this."

It doesn't take long before the thrust of my fingers breaks her will.

"Y.. Yes I want this."

She stutters her response, staring at me like she's never seen me before. Every muscle is tense and my dick is so hard it's threatening to break my zipper... how can she still look so uncertain? Maybe... maybe I'll push her just a little. Just to see what I can get away with.

I release her hair and her head falls forward, but as I snatch her small wrists and hold them above her, her head snaps up, fire in her eyes.

"People... people could come."

God I almost groan at her struggle to speak. I love making her squirm, breaking her ability to think. Let them come. More, is all I can think.

"Then you'd better cum for me quickly."

By the way she clenches around my finger, I can tell she's close to losing it. But not yet. I'm not done with her. I slide a second finger inside her pussy. God it's tight. Surely she has been with someone else since me, but by the feel of it...

"Tell me you're mine."

Her eyes drop. I never realized how submissive she was to me before this moment. I can barely hear her whispered response.

"I'm... I'm yours. I've always been yours."

I didn't think my dick could get harder, but there it is. I push it against her, to let her know how she's affecting me. The sharp intake of breath tells me she's aware. As my fingers continue to work, I can feel the muscles in her arms tense.

"Who do you belong to?"

I take my time, perusing her body as I've wanted to do since she walked into that damn conference room. Her breasts are heaving, making me want to rip her dress open and lick every inch of them. Her small waist and flared hips are emphasized by the snug dress, suggesting the delicious ass I've dreamed about. And those heels. I've made her scream and beg in those heels. Suddenly, I want to make her beg in them again. To remind her of our history. To punish her for making me wait this long.

"You."

She licks her lips and suddenly I'm kissing them again, swallowing her increasing whimpers and small moans. Not enough yet. I double my efforts on her clit and release her hands so I can palm her breasts, easily finding her nipples through the thin material.

"Good girl. This sweet little body is my property. And your soul? Is it mine?"

She stills for a beat, forgetting to breathe as her eyes meet mine. It's a risk, this question, but I have to know. I have to hear it.

"Truth, little girl."

She bites her lip and looks away, still panting and fighting her impending orgasm. My hand moves of its own accord, grasping her face and forcing her to meet my eyes.

"It's yours. Always."

Thats when she breaks. I watch the sweat bead on her forehead as her eyes close. I feel her muscles begin to vibrate and insert a finger in her dripping pussy while thumbing her clit. The lean of her body tells me she's given in. She's mine and she knows it.

"Come for me, sweetness."

I barely finish whispering the words as she begins to shake in earnest, squeezing the life out of my fingers. I capture her mouth to swallow the moan I know is coming - my girl is vocal, no doubt about that.

I keep my eyes open though, so I can watch her unravel before me, because of me. I keep finger fucking her until I know her convulsions have passed before gentling my penetration and relinquishing control of her clit. Somewhere along the way, my hand went to her hip - I'm pretty sure that if I let go, she'd collapse to the floor.

She watches me as I slowly lick my fingers, closing my eyes as the familiar flavor hits my taste buds. When I open them, she's wide eyed and nervous again. I try to smile to ease her concerns, but the look on her face suggests I look like a feral cat instead of the calming man I'd intended. Fuck it. Cards on the table. I want more and consequences be damned.

"You're coming back to my room now."

My heart stops for a moment as I wait for her response. How I can be nervous after forcing her to cum outside a full conference room is a mystery, but that's the effect she has on me.

She stops straightening her dress and looks at me, as if she's trying to solve puzzles through my eyes.

When she stands straight and nods, I don't know if I should be relieved or terrified. All I know is, I'm no longer attending any presentations I had planned for the day. My only plan is to make her beg for me to claim her in every way possible. And by the throbbing in my pants, I have no doubt that I'll do just that. And then some.