Can't Touch: A Boss Romance

“I’m in you,” he says. “All the way.”

My breath is shallow in his chest. It’s like it’s been squeezed out of my lungs by his cock, even though I know that’s not physically possible.

Now that he’s all the way inside me it feels easier. My body is getting used to it. I smile at him. “Yeah.”

“How do you feel?”

“I have no fucking idea,” I say with a laugh. Because I don’t. I feel good, I feel nervous, I feel different. But I know that I won’t forget this. Ever.

The moment my body is ready, we both feel it. There’s an easing—a different kind of relaxation that I’m not completely in control of. “Breathe with me,” he says, and I do.

But I’m still not prepared.

He moves, and my whole body lights up with brand new sensation. Aching pain and deep, impossible pleasure. Each thrust is slow and steady, dragging friction through that sends eddies across and through me.

Kris angles his hips, and everything shifts again. An orgasm is coming, but this one isn’t like the ones that I’ve had before. It’s gathering inside and not on the surface. Deeper and wider than other pleasure that I’ve experienced. The ache of newness only makes it sharper. Harder.

But he’s holding himself back. I can tell from the ragged breaths and the way he pulls back from thrusting all the way. “Take me, Kris.”

“You’re not ready for that. I’ll hurt you.”

I squeeze his cock with my pussy and get the satisfaction of watching his eyes flare wide. “Let me be the judge of what I’m ready for.”

He slows until he’s barely moving, cock buried deep and flexing just enough to tease. Eyes rove across my face, studying me.

“What do you really want to do to me, Kris?”

A sound that’s nearly a growl erupts from him, and he leans close. “I want to claim you. Fuck you until you know that you’re mine.”

This time when I squeeze him, it’s not voluntary. “Do it.”

It’s a dare and a command. Does he trust me to know what I want? Does he trust himself to give it to me?

Everything happens all at once. Kris places a hand on my throat. A threat and a promise. Enough to hold me still and nothing more. But it heightens every nerve and sensation, heat rolling through me so fast that my eyes flutter closed.

He knocks my thighs wide with his knees. I’m spread open for him—impaled and imprisoned by him—and everything in me sings yes.

And then he fucks me.

It’s a whole new world. Pain and pleasure mixed together and him not holding back in the slightest. Deep, ruthless strokes all the way to the hilt and back out to the tip. Over and over again.

I’m not sure when the pleasure spills over from that place inside, but it does. And then I’m crying out. Screaming. My voice pushes past the hand at my throat, completely aware that he has me where he wants me. I’m on a whole other plane of existence.

Kris’s mouth is rough on mine. A punishing kiss. Claiming, just like he said he wanted it to be. It’s everything.

I’m falling through clouds of pleasure, and I don’t know when or if I come up for air. Everything has narrowed to the sensation of his cock in my body and the roaring fire that every stroke brings. He grinds down on my clit, and that’s a whole other new pleasure too.

When Kris comes, I feel it. I hear him yell out his climax and sense his weight as he lowers himself to me. But I’m still not here. I’m floating somewhere else.

He’s the one that gently pulls out, and I wince. I’ll be sore. Doesn’t change the fact that I regret nothing about this.

I look up at Kris, cradled in his arms as he looks down at me. I’m not sure how long it’s been, but he’s smiling at me. “Hello there.”

“Hi.”

He grins. “You’re back.”

“I’m not sure I went,” I laugh. “But I think that I want to live there now.”

Kris laughs too, but then his face turns serious as he runs a finger down my cheek. “Did I hurt you?”

I move my legs and feel the ache inside. But nothing feels hurt. This just seems like the natural result of getting fucked for the first time. “I’ll be sore, but no, you didn’t hurt me.”

“Good. Because that was amazing, and it wouldn’t have been if you were hurt.”

I smile up at him. “I’m not hurt, I’m hungry.” Like I called it into existence, my stomach growls.

“I can order in.”

“Or…” I say, rolling off the bed and grabbing my skirt. “We can go to my apartment. I already have leftovers. Unless you’re too rich for leftovers.”

Kris snorts in response. “Of course not. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see the inside of Meynard’s place.”