The Boss (The Boss 1)

He correctly gauged my reaction, his expression grim. “I would understand, if you didn’t—”

“No, no. I still want to.” I felt like an asshole. He must have gotten my reaction more than once. Hell, he’d gotten it more than once from me, because six years ago I’d practically fled the room. But I’d trusted him to be gentle then. I didn’t know what I was afraid of now. I knew I had nothing to worry about. I shook my head, embarrassed. “Sorry. I can’t believe I forgot such a substantial detail.”

He laughed, his relief evident. “I was worried you might have changed your mind.”

“Never.” I cupped my swollen, slick sex in my hand and plunged two fingers into my body. His lips parted as he watched me, and I saw his indrawn breath in the rise of his chest.

“Please,” I moaned, moving my fingers slowly out, then pushing back in. I plucked at my hard nipple with my other hand, writhing against the duvet. “Please fuck me.”

He got a condom from the bedside table drawer and sheathed himself, then he was on me, covering me, pinning me to the mattress. The wide tip of his cock pushed against me, and I held my breath. My body opened reluctantly, my flesh engorged from the pleasure he’d already given me. The head of him slipped in faster than I expected, and I startled at the burning stretch. I willed myself to relax as he sank into me. That made it easier. I held onto his shoulders as I opened around him, taking him in.

He braced himself with a hand against the bed and gasped, “You’re so tight. Am I hurting you?”

“No, it’s just... been a long time.” I lifted up, taking him deeper. He groaned and pulled back, almost entirely out, before slowly pushing in again.

All my earlier feelings of disbelief vanished. I was no longer shocked that this was happening, after such a long time. I was completely lost in the moment, desperate to commit every sensation to memory, knowing I would never accurately remember, no matter how hard I wished. When he withdrew, I clung to him with my cunt and my legs, trying to bring him back. I matched his every move, rolling my hips, taking more of him on every thrust.

Everything ceased to matter. Our strange relationship, our ages, what would happen at work... none of that remained attached, and for some blissful, sweaty minutes we were just two people caught up in a primal drive. My fingers dug into his back, my knees hugged his waist as he pumped into me.

He caught my hand and tugged it between us, murmuring, “Touch yourself,” close to my ear. I moaned when my fingers encountered the obscene thickness of him spreading me, and I rubbed my clit furiously with my fingertips, arching and gasping as I raced toward another climax. My already sore muscles protested as my body tensed once more, and I muttered nonsensical pleas against his neck as he sped his thrusts. When I came, I saw bursts of white behind my eyelids.

Neil wasn’t far behind me, shoving hard, almost too hard, my eager cunt still spasming around him as he groaned and stilled. The deep pulse of his cock sent shivers of delayed pleasure through me, and I whimpered, clinging to him.

“Are you all right?” he asked breathlessly, the persistent throbbing still touching off mini-fireworks for me.

“Uh-huh.” That was the most intelligent thing I could manage to say.

He eased out and rose from the bed to step into the bathroom. I cautiously felt my puffy flesh. Oh, I would definitely pay for that tomorrow. I grinned to myself at the thought.

“I think this was a really good idea,” I called to him, pushing myself up on my elbows. “It’s been ages since I’ve felt this good.”

When he came back, he was wearing a pair of black flannel sleep pants. He stopped beside the bed and smiled down at me. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“No,” I admitted. “I’ll grab some on my way home.”

“Don’t try to be cool,” he scolded. “I’m not kicking you out. I thought we could order room service and see where the evening takes us.”

“Oh ho,” I laughed, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “You want to do this again?”

“Not exactly this. More, and similar. It’s been six years, Sophie. You can’t imagine that I’ve had my fill of you after just an hour.”

The raw hunger in his voice obliterated the playful mood between us. He looked away, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “That was a bit intense. If you have somewhere to be—”

I stood and looked down at myself. “Well, I’m not exactly dressed for dinner, is my only problem.”