The Boss (The Boss 1)

"I do," I moaned, stretching my neck to give him more room to tease me. I lifted one leg around his waist and his cock slid into me, pulling sighs from both of us.

"That... oh, that's lovely," he murmured against my neck. “But I should really get a condom.”

He was right, I knew, but he felt so damn good, I didn’t want to stop. At least one of us had the presence of mind to be responsible.

“Hurry, okay?” To punctuate my sentence, I squeezed him with my internal muscles.

“Good lord,” he cursed, dipping his head to my shoulder. His breath on my skin, the prickle of his unshaven chin against me, the feeling of him deep inside me, with no particular hurry to be anyplace else... okay, I could now fully understood why he was into sleepovers. I couldn’t think of any better way to wake up.

He pulled out and rolled away from me, rummaging through his nightstand, then quickly sheathed himself. He was back between my legs with a speed that both impressed and flattered me, and I giggled.

“Something funny?” he asked as he rocked against me slowly, reaching down to hook his arm under my knee, holding me wide open so he could sink deeper.

"Just enjoying my morning," I gasped, my fingers fisting in the pillow beside my head. "That's good, just like that."

"Just like this?" He withdrew slowly, until I was shaking and panting, desperate to have him back. But in the position I was in, I couldn't really move.

I clamped my lips together tightly, a catch in my breathing the only sound I could make. It was odd, but the daylight made me feel a little self-conscious. Sure, my morning breath was taken care of, but my makeup was probably smudged, I didn't even want to think about what my hair looked like, and this close up he could probably see every pore on my face.

And just like that, I was out of the moment. He went still inside me and lifted his head. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Okay. It was difficult to lie to him when he was on top of me. "I'm just feeling a little... self-conscious."

"Why? Is there an audience here that I'm not aware of?" He pretended to be concerned as he looked over his shoulder.

"You know, you could be less sarcastic, with your dick in me." I wriggled. "Come on, let's just—”

"No, we will not 'just.' There's no point in continuing if you've got something on your mind that's going to prevent you from enjoying yourself.” He moved to roll away from me, but I locked my legs around his hips.

"Okay, okay.” I scrunched up my face. "I feel like it's different, at night. Night is supposed to be this dirty, wrong time. Mornings aren't supposed to be sexy. And I mean, I look—”

"You look absolutely fucking gorgeous." He kissed me, smoothing hair away from my brow. "You look like a woman who was well and thoroughly shagged last night, and who's waking up all mussed and sweaty and—” he broke off to bury his nose in my shoulder and sniffed loudly “—reeking of sex to do it all over again."

"Reeking? That's some sweet talk there," I giggled, but he did, strangely, make me feel better.

"Sophie, I don't care if your makeup is smeared, or if your hair isn't perfect. The only thing I care about is that a beautiful, sexy, confident woman half my age wants to do depraved things with me in the bedroom."

"And in the kitchen," I reminded him with a snort. "There might be some depravity we missed in the bathroom," he suggested, pressing deeper inside me. The motion dragged a long, slow shudder through my body. He covered my mouth with his, swept his tongue in to tangle with mine. The heels of my hands rested against his shoulders, my fingers curling and uncurling helplessly as our bodies and tongues writhed together. When he lifted his head, he added, "Perhaps we can find out after breakfast?"

I nodded, breathless, and rocked with him as he thrust into me.

"'Mornings aren't supposed to be sexy,'" he muttered, leaning his forehead against mine. "Really, I had thought better of you."

"Oh, shut up and fuck me." I grabbed one of the pillows and smacked him with it.

We had a brief, playful struggle, wrestling with each other until he held both my hands under his, pinned to the mattress.

"Tell me what you want. Tell me what it is you need, and I'll give it to you," he pledged against my mouth. His hips lifted and he pulled out of me until just the head of him stretched my cunt.

I looked up, into fierce green eyes that sent shockwaves of arousal through every cell in my body. I could have played the game, said something really racy to tantalize him, but I knew I would never beat him at dirty talk. "You. I want you."