Bewitching the Boss

My heart swells painfully in my chest.

Can I stay here? Can I be his love for real?

Byron shifts behind me in bed, his palms smoothing up my belly to fondle my breasts, as he did so many times last night, muttering into my hair how beautiful I am. As if he can’t help praising me even in his sleep.

Praising me.

Caring for me.

At first, I hated it. I didn’t want to experience that comfort and bliss and sense of belonging. But he persisted and broke through a barrier inside of me. That wall lies in ruins now and I don’t know how I’ll be able to build it back up again. Or if I want to.

Byron’s mouth presses to the nape of my neck, inhaling, his shaft thickening against the curve of my bottom. “Morning.” He pulls me back more securely to his chest, sighing contentedly. “You feel that, don’t you, Jane?”

“Feel what?” I whisper.

He kisses my shoulder. “That you’re supposed to wake up here. Every day.”

The fluttering in my ribcage is almost too much to handle without crying. “I think…I th-think that sounds nice in theory.”

“Not a theory. Fact.”

I start to move away from him, but he only holds tighter, the length of his strong, naked body flexing against mine in a delicious way that tugs at my core. “Byron, I was outside your house last night…and it was far from the first time,” I whisper, closing my eyes. “You can’t just pretend that’s normal.”

“You want me to say it out loud? Get it out in the open? Fine. You’ve been stalking me.” He turns me over to face him, lifting my chin in a firm hand and those green eyes, oh man, they are like hooks sinking into my heart, immobilizing me. “Good. Keep doing it.”

My pulse is going to leap straight out of my veins. “You can’t mean that.”

“I do mean it,” he says gruffly, leaning over to bring our lips flush, to wind my tongue into a sensual maze of a kiss. “As long as you don’t mind me stalking you back.” He searches my eyes and I notice a new light to his. Holy Moses. It’s the same madness I see staring back at me when I look in the mirror. “I want to know where you are and who you’re with at all times. I want you here, in my bed, seven nights a week. And the next time I call you and you don’t answer the phone, understand that I’m on my way. That I’ll find you.”

“No,” I whimper, shaking my head. “No, you don’t have to be like me, Byron.”

“Too late, Jane.” He rolls me onto my back, pinning my wrists on either side of my head. “Now, we have a new rule.”

I can barely concentrate because his hips are nudging apart my thighs, his hardness parting the folds of my sex. Rocking gently. “New rule?”

“That’s right.” His mouth finds my neck, nuzzling the sensitive skin beneath my ear, exhaling warm breath all over me, eliciting a shiver. “You want what we had last night. You need it.”

“Yes.”

“Then you’ll get it,” he murmurs, reaching down to take hold of his erection, tucking the tip inside my entrance. I suck in a breath and hold it, whining in my throat like a beggar when he doesn’t push any deeper. “But for every time I fuck you like a high-class escort, Jane, I’m going to make love to you.”

Panic descends.

No.

No, this can’t happen.

I’m trapped. Nowhere to go. But I struggle anyway, alarm flooding me when he pins me easily, flattening my body to the mattress. “You’re getting my love,” he exhales thickly, finally pressing his inches deep inside of me, the sensation so decadent my eyes almost cross. “You want my love, Jane. You need it. Same as I need yours.” Still holding my wrists captive, he starts to pump between my thighs. A slow grind of hard flesh into soft, my immediate wetness giving away how much I enjoy the perfect friction. “Tell me your address, Jane,” he says against my mouth, breaths rasping in his throat. “I want you to give it to me voluntarily.”

“Why?”

“So I can send someone over to collect your things today. As soon as possible.” He draws back slightly, letting me see his hard eyes. His resolve. The intensity, the…yes, the obsession there is wild and won’t be negotiated with. I know. I feel it myself. I invented how he’s feeling right now and it’s multiplying now that he’s encouraging it. Stoking the fire inside of me higher. “You live here now.”

“No,” I respond shakily. He wouldn’t come within a hundred yards of me if he knew who I was. What I’ve done. He’d hate me. “No, Byron.”

“Yes,” he says through his teeth, giving me a hard, unexpected thrust that rattles the headboard and makes me scream. “You’ve climbed inside of me and you’re not getting out, do you understand? Don’t look me in the eye and say no. Don’t do that.”