The Boyfriend (The Boss 7)

“Your pussy feels so good,” he groaned. “It feels so fucking good.”

The water in the tub lapped furiously with his rapid thrusts, sloshing over the edges. When it seemed like he couldn’t go any faster, any harder, any deeper, he somehow managed to do all three. The pressure on my g-spot was too much; I couldn’t have avoided my orgasm if I’d wanted to.

The moment I started to cool down, he pulled out. “Let me come in your mouth, Sophie.”

I turned and sank onto the seat in a heartbeat, my mouth obediently open for him. He thrust the head of his cock into my mouth, and I took him in the rest of the way, pumping him in my fist while he emptied himself down my throat with what could only be described as a growl.

I choked a little, and some of his cum rolled from my mouth and down my chin. After a few last, slowing thrusts, he pulled out and tapped the head against my lips.

He staggered back a step and fell heavily into the water, breathing hard.

“I’ll turn off the camera,” I said. I didn’t wipe my face. I waded over and reached up for my phone. Holding it close enough for a selfie, I swiped my bottom lip with my finger and sucked El-Mudad’s cum from it. Then I blew Neil a little kiss and stopped recording.

“Come here,” El-Mudad said, and I placed the phone out of harm’s way before joining him. To my surprise, he pulled me onto his lap to straddle him and pressed his still-somewhat hard cock against the opening of my cunt. I guided him inside with one hand, and I leaned forward, tucking my head into the hollow between his shoulder and neck. Though he wasn’t as rock hard as before, he still pulsed with post-orgasm sensitivity that I could feel. I shivered.

“I want you again,” he whispered. “I want to stay inside you forever.”

“I don’t think you can manage again right now,” I teased him. “You looked like you were going to black out after that.”

“A bit of a headrush is all.” He gripped my ass and moved me, just a little so as not to slip out. “Will you come for me, Sophie? One last time tonight, will you let me feel it?”

I shuddered at the idea of even touching my brutally overstimulated clit. But the way he asked, as though it was the only thing he wanted in the world...

How could I deny him?

I reached between us and spread my labia open, finding the swollen, aching bud there. I circled it with my fingertips slowly; going too fast would just numb me. El-Mudad bent his head to my breasts, nibbling at my skin and sucking my nipples into his mouth. He urged me along to my climax with his teeth and tongue, and when I was close, so close that I’d begun to pump my hips despite the danger of losing him, he reached up and cupped the back of my head. “Look at me, Sophie.”

I opened my eyes and held his gaze while I climbed closer and closer. His eyes captivated me; they were almost hypnotic in the richness and depth, his irises like silken threads of brown embroidered on cloth of gold.

“I love you,” he whispered, and I felt the truth of it in the deepest part of my soul. I held onto his shoulders with one hand and cried out with pleasure as I crested the wave of my release.

My vision swam. I wasn’t sad. The intensity of the moment had just knocked the wind out of me. He reached up and brushed a tear from my cheek with his thumb, then brought it to his lips.

I leaned my forehead against his. “I love you. So much.”

We got out and dried off, then dressed in the comfy clothing I had suggested. Instead of hot chocolate, El-Mudad braved the espresso maker to whip up some cappuccinos for us. We pulled the blankets from the guest beds and shuffled out onto the balcony. Below us, a raucous party seemed to be taking place in the Grand Canal. I was totally content to miss it. We pulled our chairs close together and cocooned ourselves in the blankets, holding our cups of coffee for warmth. When the sky over the city illuminated with fireworks, El-Mudad leaned over to kiss me.

“Happy New Year, Sophie. I can’t wait to spend it with the two of you.”

“Me, too.” I leaned my head on his shoulder with a happy sigh. “And hopefully many, many more.”

Returning to New York after such a long time away felt like taking my bra off at the end of a long day. We’d left Marco Polo airport early—after another harrowing extended skid across the lagoon—and arrived home in time for dinner. Though I was back on standard time, going from boat to plane to helicopter had taken a lot out of me.