Hard For My Boss

I open my mouth to thank him, but find myself in a trance as I stare, mesmerized, at his broad and muscled pecs. Ink decorates one half of his chest and shoulder, crawling down his arm partway and skipping down the side of his ripped, tanned abdomen. This man, this wealthy, sexy man has such an air of mystery around him. I have no idea who he is, where he comes from, why he’s here—and most importantly, what he wants to do with me.

I’m drawn into the intense and striking mystery that is Ben, helpless to escape the hold he has on me.

“Question is,” he goes on, his voice silky smooth and languid, “do you want me to stop?”

I lift my eyes to his. “No,” I confess, one little word to seal my fate, before his lips descend on mine.

6

Benjamin goes for the gold.

When our lips crash together, all the anxiety of this past week drops to the floor, and the only thing I know is how fucking sweet this boy tastes.

He’s sugar to me.

I slide a hand around his lower back and pull him against my body with force. He’s so hard, I feel him through both the fabric of his pants as well as my own.

And if he knows anything by what’s pressing against his waist right now, it’s that I’m just as hard for him.

He moans deeply, every one of his breaths crashing like ocean waves against my face and drowning the room. He smells so sweet, like a thousand calorie delicacy I shouldn’t have, but it’s too late; I’ve already spooned my first taste.

Now I can’t get enough.

His hands—cool and soft—are on my firm, warm chest. While he might have placed them there initially to brace himself or push me away, he’s certainly making no effort to break free from the muscular, bodily prison in which I’ve entrapped him.

My hand slips under the hem of his shirt and slowly—very slowly—starts to draw up his slender body. I let my fingers tickle his smooth, soft skin as I bring the shirt up, revealing inch by inch his sexy abdomen.

Goosebumps decorate his arms. He shivers, eyes closed.

I love every little bit of what I’m doing to him. It gives me such pleasure to have this much power over a horny young man like Trevor. I already know that every bit of his relief and joy is at my utter mercy. I can deny him cruelly and never touch his cock if I wanted, stroking and teasing and exploring every other part of him all night. I can be meaner yet and shove him to his knees, giving him a closer look at the bulge he’s been eyeing all night, or my ass if I turn around and make him worship it.

The more I kiss this pretty boy’s full, delicate lips, the more my desire to own him deepens.

He starts to lift his shoulders as I bring the shirt up his chest, revealing the tightest, smoothest, sexiest set of pecs I’ve ever seen. He doesn’t have a lot of muscle, but he’s surprisingly toned, slender and lean, with just an adorable light patch of hair in the middle of his chest and a dusty happy trail cutting down his belly button, disappearing into his seriously swollen pants.

His nipples are small and perfect, and I let my thumbs graze lightly over them as I draw the shirt up his body. It doesn’t go unnoticed, as he squirms under my touch.

I own this boy.

The thin fabric of his shirt crawls up to reveal his lightly-trimmed pits, and then I pull from our kiss to get his shirt up over his head. The next instant, the shirt is pitched to the side.

And for a second, our eyes lock on one another. He’s out of breath, panting as he searches my gaze for something. It strikes me, the way he’s looking at me. What’re you looking for, boy?

Then I’m back on his mouth, and our shirtless bodies collide, this time with his hands going around my back and pulling me in.

I let my hand slide down to cup his tight butt cheek.

It fills my palm perfectly.

I give it a firm squeeze and pull his hips into mine, crushing our bulging crotches against one another. I want this boy so badly that it aches below my waist. When I squeeze his ass again, tighter, he starts clawing at my backside and groaning, which has no effect on the firm, hard muscle his fingers fruitlessly dig at.

He pulls from the kiss. “B-Ben …”

I don’t let him speak. Chasing an impulse to have my way with him, I grip under his thighs and lift him up. He gasps, then hooks his legs around my waist reflexively and clings to my neck. With his ass and the backside of his thighs cupped in my hands, I lead him out of the kitchen and across the den to the long white couch of the living room.