See Through Me Ch 01 02

Words from the author:

Hello all. I had originally submitted chapters 1 and 2 separately, but I noticed many people were reading chapter 1 and not moving on to the next chapters. I think that's because there was no "action" in chapter 1, so I am integrating chapter 2, which DOES have action in it. Action in my book equals non consent sex. Hot, wrong, degrading non-con. My story in the long term will feature a wide array of hot wrong sex, with strong elements of BDSM and humiliation. So if you're not into it, walk away now. Constructive feedback is welcome. Xoxo

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Prologue-

I needed this. A seven-day cruise to the Bahamas was just what the doctor ordered. Sure, it was only a company bonus for meeting this year's sales goal, but I'll take it. I've always been a bit on the timid side, so sales was never my strong suit. But my recent promotion to head of A.R. allowed me to take part in the bonus cruise, as a formality. Yep, A.R. It pays the bills, but honestly is one of the most stressful and under-appreciated jobs one could have. Co-workers barely acknowledge me unless they have a problem. Luckily, on a huge cruise ship, I wouldn't have to associate with my co-workers much. I was ready to lay out on the sun deck and get a nice tan, after a thorough coat of sunscreen of course.

Ok, I'm a bit of a loner. I live alone, and usually sleep alone. I have a couple good friends, instead of a lot of so-so friends. I love curling up with a good book. I'm a sucker for romance novels. Not the lame ones with cheesy dialogue though. I appreciate quality and depth, and the heroine I can relate to. The proud heroine who does not allow herself to be vulnerable...until she meets that man. The man who breaks her, and makes her face her own hidden desires and perversities.

Of course I've never actually met that man. He is a fantasy. Only a fantasy.

I guess that is why I am still relatively inexperienced in practice. I secretly love the thought of being overpowered, and yet, I hate the thought of being vulnerable and alone. Yet, here I am, alone...stuck with my fantasies, wishing they were enough. The desires inside me so thick that I can't even look into a man's eyes.

When I look at a man, at least one whom I find attractive, I know that my eyes will tell him the truth. If a man knows what I am thinking, and understands what I truly want, he has no reason to hold back. He will hurt me, and I will no longer be Kate, the Good Girl. I will be Kate, the Slut. And while I secretly, desperately want that, I do not want that. I don't want to be left alone.

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Chapter 1

I had spent the better part of an hour messing with my hair and makeup. I've never really worn much makeup, if any. But tonight, I wanted to look ravishing. I wanted to look confident and unattainable. I've heard that men don't like confident women. They like someone malleable that they can control. And if they do like confident women, they are usually the types who lack confidence themselves.

I have a decent body I think, curvy. I think my biggest asset is, you guessed it, my ass. It always embarrassed me when I was younger. Who wants a big butt? Apparently, a lot of people. I generally try to dress in a way that distracts from it, but tonight, what the hell? Who gives a fuck if someone looks at my ass? What are they going to do, molest me in the middle of cocktail hour? Nope. It would be nice for once to flaunt it. If I end up with a free drink, what's wrong with that? I would be back in a few hours, tops, after the congratulatory dinner with the sales team and higher-ups at Weisman Pharmaceuticals.

I was glad to have been granted an aft view suite on the ship. I hated the heavy foot traffic and late night noise, so this would be perfect. With a sigh, I grabbed my purse and quietly exited the cabin.

As I turned to leave, I found myself face to face with a man who appeared to be leaving his cabin at the same time. Suite or no suite, the entrances to each cabin were still pretty close to one another, and as I proceeded toward the elevator, I found myself glancing into the eyes of my apparent neighbor on the ship.

God he was handsome. Holy shit! Tall with broad shoulders, graying hair, probably late forties, with what looked like gray eyes from the split second I actually looked. Whew!

He caught my glance as well, with a brief nod of acknowledgement. As he passed by, I was invigorated by the scent of his aftershave. I don't know much about men's fragrances, or ladies fragrances for that matter, but it smacked me in the nostrils and I had to take a moment to gather my thoughts.

Once I shook myself out of it, I realized that I was headed in the wrong direction. Geez! I turned around and headed towards the elevator. I saw him waiting, and slowed my pace. Maybe I could catch the next one up. I took my time getting to the elevator, but he was still waiting for it when I got there. God, this elevator was slow! I guess with so many floors, and at cocktail hour, it was understandable. But this was just my luck. Now I would be stuck with him all the way up! I hated those awkward situations...the awkward silence.

I knew he was aware of me. I knew he felt my eyes on the back of his head—possibly calculating his move for when we were finally alone together in the elevator for the long, apparently very slow ride up. Or maybe it was just my perverse imagination. Probably. With a soft >Ding< the doors finally parted.

My neighbor entered the elevator, and gave a small smile as he held the door for me. I awkwardly mumbled a "thank you" and followed. Naturally, I parked myself in the far corner of the elevator and lowered my eyes.

Why did I feel like such an idiot? I had done nothing wrong, but in those brief moments when I looked into his eyes, and he into mine, I had instantly lost the confidence I thought I had. Why did I have to wear this dress? Here we were, alone together at the mercy of this ridiculous elevator, and I just wanted to crawl inside myself.

As we slowly began our ascent to the Lido deck (of course he would be going to the same floor), I felt myself growing wet between my legs. What the fuck was wrong with me? I could still smell his aftershave, or cologne, or whatever. >Ding< The doors parted, and he (thank God) exited ahead of me. I followed, as he was apparently going to the same bar—perhaps to meet someone? He disappeared into the crowd, and for a moment I was disappointed. God, get a grip! I shook it off, and headed straight for the counter to get a drink.

"I'll have a Mai Tai," I told the bartender.

"Yes Ma'am!" he replied.

Yes, ma'am? Perfect. I'm only 28 years old. He handed me my drink with a smile and moved on to the other customers. I honestly had never been a big drinker, even in college. The Mai Tai was one of the sweeter drinks that I could tolerate in social settings—not that I've had many of those.

Taking a sip, I crinkled my nose. It was way too strong for me. Oh well. Maybe it will help me loosen up a bit for Christ's sake. I slowly turned to survey the crowd. I didn't see any of my co-workers, and I didn't see my neighbor. He had to be meeting someone. Why the fuck did I care? I had come here tonight to flaunt it, and for some reason, I just wanted it to be over.

"Another, please" I called to the bartender, after I tossed back the rest of my drink.

"It's on me," said a male voice to my left.

I looked over, and saw a man in a dark suit, with dark hair and eyes—probably early 30's.

"I'm Scott," the man said.

He was cute.

"Thank you. I'm Kate."

We made small talk for like twenty minutes, and he attempted to invite me to dinner.

"Thank you, but I'm meeting some co-workers. Formal dinner."

I smiled at him weakly. For some reason, he just didn't excite me. He was handsome, to be sure, but something was missing. At least I had an out, so I didn't have to lie to him. I was being a prick-tease, and I knew it, but it really isn't in my nature to mislead people. I thought I could get out there and flaunt it, have fun with it, but apparently not.

"No worries, perhaps I'll see you around?" said Scott casually.

He knew it was a rejection, but was polite about it.

"Perhaps you will," I replied.

Why not? Might be the only offer I get on this damned cruise, not that that's why I was there. I was here for some R&R. Wasn't I?

I politely excused myself and headed for the "Starlight" ballroom. As I entered, I felt exposed and quite honestly, a little slutty. The dress I'd worn was cut short, but on the scale of sluttiness, I felt it was on the mild side...at least I had felt that way in the safety of my suite. It's not like I was the only one here in a short dress-far from it. But I still felt nervous and exposed. I never dressed like this. Short dress with sheer stockings and higher than average heels. I could tell that many people didn't recognize me. A couple men I had passed a few times in the hall at work actually looked at me with a hungry look in their eyes. I felt the wetness grow between my legs, but as always, I found myself staring at the carpet.

"Wow, Kate! Look at you!"

It was Michael. He is the one person I actually feel comfortable around at work-hilarious, friendly, and gay as can be. All the women I work with are so snobby and fake. I guess the fake part can help when you're in sales.

"Sweetie, you are stunning! Where the hell have you been hiding?"

I blushed and grinned.

"Thanks Mike, it's great to see you. I know the dress is a bit much. Just trying to step out of my comfort zone a bit. Why not, right?"

"Totally! Geez I'm hungry. I hope they get past the bullshit so we can eat already," he said, rubbing his belly.

I laughed, and was thankful we were at the same table. It wouldn't be an entirely miserable evening.

The CEO took the podium and started his speech. "Thank you everyone for coming tonight. It has been a great year..."

----

Chapter 2

By the end of the evening, I was all smiles. Michael and I had a nightcap at the bar, and just chatted. We gossiped about our co-workers, he gave me the latest on his new relationship, and I even mentioned my mystery neighbor.

"Whew!" cried Michael. "He sounds like a hunk. Are you going to talk to him?"

I blushed and rolled my eyes.

"Michael, I'm not that kind of girl."

"What kind of girl?" he asked.

The considerable amount of alcohol I'd consumed this evening was getting to me. I was opening up to Michael, despite being as red as a tomato, or so it seemed. He was just so easy to talk to, and seemed to genuinely care. I loved that about him.

"The kind that...talks...to men," I stammered.

"I'm a man," he said, leaning in close, his voice dripping with innuendo.

We could not contain ourselves. We laughed until we lost our breath. I felt so much more relaxed.

"I just mean...I'm not a whore...I'm not a slut."

"Of course you're not sweetie," Michael said gently. "All we are talking about is Hello. That does not make you a slut, and anyone who says otherwise can answer to me."

That got me choked up. He was so sweet. And he was right. What the hell was I ashamed of? What was I hiding from?

"Thanks Michael." I smiled, grateful for his friendship. We really needed to hang out more. "Gosh, it's late," I said, after glancing at my phone. "Thanks so much for being there for me. Let's have coffee tomorrow or something."

Michael grinned, "Totally!"

-----

As I hobbled to the elevator in my higher-than-average heels, I thought, "I can't drink like that, ever again."

I had to pee, and the elevator was taking its sweet time again. >Ding< The doors parted. I froze, face to face once again with my mystery neighbor.

"Dammit," I thought.

Our gazes locked, and I was breathless once more. He took the liberty of stepping forward to hold the door, again, since I'd been standing there like an idiot for more than a few seconds.

I entered the elevator and immediately turned towards the control panel, determined not to make any more eye contact with this man. His eyes were gentle, but there was something unsettling about him that I could not put my finger on.

"Oh shoot!" I thought, "He's probably staring at my big ass."

Secretly, I actually hoped he was looking. I don't know why. I just wanted him to desire me. I was obviously going all stupid over him, and we'd shared but two elevator rides, in silence.

The first elevator ride was intense, but this one was worse. I was no doubt being judged this time, on display before him in this slutty little black dress. And the thought made me wet. I can't always feel it when I'm getting wet, but I sure as hell could feel it now.

I must have been holding my breath, because I started to feel faint and dizzy. And the damned fuck-me heels were not forgiving. He must have seen me falling, because I suddenly felt strong, warm, manly arms around me.

His hands roamed over me. I could smell him again, and was putty in his hands. He could have taken me right there. I needed to regain my composure, but I had had way too much to drink, and after a softly muttered, "Hello" darkness overcame me.

------

There she was again, like a deer in the headlights. She had such beautiful eyes. Such beautiful, telling, beckoning, eyes. I had ridden up with her in the elevator earlier that evening, after she planted herself in the corner. She was afraid of me. But there was something more. I hadn't been sure before, but as we rode back down to our floor together, I could smell her desire. She wasn't just terrified. She was soaked and trembling with need. She needed a man.

Unfortunately for her, I am not the nicest of men. I don't usually hold doors, and I'm certainly not known for being patient. But this woman was so adorable, so transparent. She needed a good hard fucking. She needed me. And yet, I did not want to pounce just yet. I was enjoying the thick, sexual tension in the air. Her innocence...and her smell...it was making my mouth water. And not until the ride down had I been able to appreciate her absolutely luscious ass. Perfectly formed, and begging for a mark from my hand.

Despite having been transfixed by her gorgeous ass, I immediately lunged toward her when I saw her begin to sway. She was obviously intoxicated, poor girl. She had set herself up with that dress, that ass, and God knows how much liquor. She was mine.

As I maneuvered her over my shoulder, I felt the weight of her breasts. They were ample breasts, perfect for sinking my teeth into. She would be so fun to play with, once she recovered a bit.

My trip to the bar earlier that evening had been for the purpose of seeking out a warm-up girl- an easy one, who would be as direct as I about her needs. It would take the edge off, and allow me to take my time pursuing the woman who would submit to me completely. But this lovely young thing, whatever her name was, had conveniently stepped right out of the neighboring suite.

I had quietly watched her from the far end of the bar, being a little cock-tease to that poor kid. After she sent him on his way, I had a bite and spent some time in the casino. I could not get her out of my mind, as brief as our interaction had been. I didn't know for sure that she was the one, until she practically landed in my lap on my way back downstairs.

She didn't have to tell me what she wanted. The look in her eyes had been unmistakable. I could smell her need, her desperation. She would confess her desires to me, willing or not. Her tipsiness was pure luck. When she recovered fully, I knew she would act the prude, but by then it would be too late. She was in the lion's den now.

With a shit-eating grin on my face, I laid her across the bed. I unwrapped the mint from the turn-down service and munched on it, relishing her limp body. God I could not wait to make her mine properly. She was so soft, supple, and pure. Her lips so full and moist looking, teasing me even in her light slumber.

I headed over to my laptop to check emails while she slept it off a bit. When she finally stirred, I looked over and smiled at her.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

Her head snapped in my direction, and I watched with amusement as it dawned on her that she was not in her own room. She was in my room. On my bed. I felt myself harden at the possibilities.

She sat up slowly, aware of my presence, but still looking puzzled as to why she was here.

With a soft groan she asked, "What happened?"

"I'm afraid you fainted darling. I caught you, and brought you to my suite."

I had never called anyone "Darling" before. But that's what she was. Darling. Darling, adorable, helpless, and ripe for the fucking.

She frowned, but asked softly, "Can I please use your bathroom?"

"Of course darling, please. Take whatever you need."

I would take what I needed soon. I could taste her already. I had never enjoyed delayed gratification this much.

I tip-toed over to the bathroom door, listening in. I could hear her letting out a soft moan as she relieved herself. Adorable. Then of course, as a good girl would, washing her hands, and gurgling what I assumed was mouthwash, before I raced back to lounge area, grabbing her a bottled water from the stocked fridge.

She emerged from the bathroom, as quiet and adorable as ever.

Approaching me slowly, she said, "I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you. I don't usually drink so much. My friend Michael and I had drinks after dinner, and..."

She trailed off as I moved toward her.

"It's no inconvenience. I could tell you must have had a long evening."

She nodded. I uncapped the water and handed it to her.

"Please, have a seat and relax a bit. I don't even know your name. I think it's about time, don't you?" I joked.

Blushing, she replied, "Yes, I suppose it is. I'm Kate."

"A pleasure, Kate. My name is Joe."

She sat down across from me on the sofa and sipped her water. All too soon, her eyes lowered, averting her gaze once again. I could tell she was embarrassed and not sure what to do. I was just reveling in the knowledge that she would not leave this room tonight, and she didn't even know it yet.

Finally she stood and said, "I'm sorry, I don't want to keep you up. You've been so nice, but it's late. I should head back to my room."

"Of course," I replied.

I stood and walked her back through the suite. As we entered the foyer, she slowed her pace. When we reached the door, I could feel the energy from her. I could sense her desire.

Clutching her purse, she turned to look at me once more, and I could see the same vulnerable look in her eyes as I had on our elevator encounters.

"Thank you again..." were the last words she spoke before I moved on her.

I crushed her against the door, my lips one with hers even as she struggled.

"Mmmmm!!" she moaned, shocked by my advances.

She continued to struggle, but there was no way I was letting her go.

Keeping both her arms pinned, I released her from our first kiss, her lips now crimson.

Having barely caught her breath, she said, "What the hell do you think you're doing? I am not that kind of girl!"

"What kind of girl?" I asked. "The kind who needs to be fucked?"

I leaned in close, our lips mere inches apart.

Staring into her eyes, I dared her, "Tell me you don't want this. Tell me."

She tried again to escape my grip, but I held fast. I moved my arm up against her throat, so she couldn't look away. Grabbing my arm with both hands, she tried to relieve some of the pressure on her throat, tears now forming in her eyes.

"Please!" she begged.

"Tell me!" I demanded.

I slid my other hand down to her mound. I could feel the heat, feel the moisture through the fabric. That renewed her struggles, pathetic though they were. I glared at her, making it clear that I would not release her until she answered me.