Can't Touch: A Boss Romance

Seeing a body like this in magazines and movies is one thing. Having one inches from you is entirely another. Holy fuck, it doesn’t seem real. The way his muscles are shaped—the way they dip and flex as he moves. I want to touch him.

There’s a smirk on his face. “I thought you might want to see more of it.”

“That is more,” I say, finding my confidence again. “But that’s not the rest of it.”

“No,” he concedes. “That’s going to wait, too. Because believe me, Chianna. If I take out my cock here, I’m going to fuck you. And I want to have at least some self-control.”

A laugh escapes me and he grins. There’s something empowering about being the thing that drives a man this beautiful to madness. The confidence disappears again when he draws his eyes down my body. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

Kris slips a hand around my waist and lifts me, easily spreading me out on my yoga mat. Holy shit. Being lifted like that. It makes my stomach swoop and butterflies swirl. And that’s nothing compared to his mouth.

A kiss on my neck turns into a trail of fire that he draws down my skin. Big, rough hands drag up my sides until he reaches the top of my cami and pulls it down so my breasts are lifted by the edge. Like this, they’re served up for him like they’re on a silver platter.

When dressing this morning, I didn’t imagine that anyone would be here to see me in the skimpy top. Now I’m glad that I didn’t wear anything underneath it.

“Fuck,” Kris says softly. “I want to do everything with these.”

Leaning down, he captures a nipple between his lips. My back arches off the mat, and a flare of fire runs down to my hips. Lower. I’m entirely in uncharted waters. I’m not a prude. I have a vibrator and I know how to give myself a damn good orgasm. But with him? I can already tell that it’s going to be so, so much better.

“What do you mean by everything?”

He swirls his tongue around the peak until it’s diamond hard, grazing teeth gently along my skin and making goosebumps appear. “I mean everything,” he says. “I want to suck on them until you’re begging me to stop. I want to cover them with lotion and fuck them until I come in your mouth. I want to watch you tease them while I play with your clit.”

I can’t fight the rush of wetness at the words. So many things that I haven’t thought of and more are in my head. Holy shit.

Kris pulls the other nipple between his lips and repeats the process until I’m moaning, unable to keep quiet while he feasts on my skin. How is it possible that this feels so fucking good? I don’t understand it.

“It’s a crime to have these covered,” he says. “Ever.”

A laugh bubbles in my throat. “I can’t exactly leave them hanging out at the office.”

“If my office walls weren’t made of glass that is exactly what you would do,” he says with utter confidence. “I would make sure to see them at least once every day. Because they’re fucking masterpieces, and just like the Mona Lisa, they deserve to be looked at every goddamn day.”

I close my eyes, savoring the feeling of his mouth on my skin and the passion of his words. I’ve never felt anything like this, and even though it’s only his mouth, I don’t know if I ever will again.

Now I understand why people say that you never forget your first time. I’m never going to fucking forget this.

Kris’s thighs are straddling mine, and I can feel how lined they are with muscle. Part of me wishes that I could be distracted by them more and spend some time exploring the absolutely glorious body above me. And the other part of me doesn’t give a shit because his hands are on me. His fingers rake down the sides of my ribs, leaving goosebumps in their wake until he finds the hem of my camisole and spreads those fingers underneath it.

One touch shouldn’t affect me like this. But it does. He spreads heat through my entire body with just the stroke of his hands, and I’m desperately wishing that we weren’t in the gym so he could keep his promise to me.

The tips of his fingers slip under the waistband of my pants. “I think these are in the way,” he says with a teasing grin.

“Are they?”

“I could lick you through them.” He locks eyes with me as he says it. “But I’d like it better if I could taste you.”

Taste me.

Holy shit.

I’ve never thought about anyone tasting me. I’m suddenly self-conscious and at the same time even more wet than I was before.