A Baby for the Boss

Turk’s hands continue their upward journey, his fingertips sliding into my hair and angling my head to the right, his hard mouth coming down on mine. Kissing me firmly once, twice, then parting my lips with a stroke of his tongue.

It’s like an alarm going off in the middle of a dead sleep.

Every fiber, every molecule housed within my body begins to rush in countless directions. I open my lips wider and welcome the next deeper rake of his tongue through my mouth, the groan he releases into it, his thick body pressing in close between my legs, blunt fingers tangling in my hair. At first, the kiss is a shock to the senses, a slow introduction, but that changes.

Quickly.

And it’s my doing, I believe? I’m too overwrought to pay attention to who makes which moves. All I know is that my legs are wrapped around his waist, bringing that woefully huge part of him up against my womanhood. Right there. His sex is three times the size of mine, so I have no earthly clue how one will fit into the other, but I’ve always been curious. I’m extra curious now. I want to know everything, do everything, try things with this man that I’ve never been tempted to try with anyone else.

I tap his brawny shoulder to get his attention, but he’s distracted by the kiss—and so am I. Almost enough to forget my intention. Because my goodness, we are attacking each other. He’s got me crushed to his bare chest, our mouths in a panting frenzy of licks and burning hot tastes and my head is full of helium, almost distracting me from asking for more.

“Do you…” I break away, laboring to breathe. “Do you want to try putting it in?”

Turk makes a hoarse sound and his hands plummet from my hair down to my backside, gripping it through my skirt and fondling my roughly. “Fuck me. Missy. Cutie.” He yanks me forward hard, slamming his hips forward at the same time, his breath stuttering out, eyes glazing over. “You have no idea how much I want to put it in.”

“Me too,” I whimper.

He growls into my neck, biting me beneath the ear—and I gasp at the incredible sensation that the raze of his teeth sends down my spine. “I’m not taking my one shot with you in the break room.”

“You can come to my office.”

Why does he look so miserable? “If I fuck you, it’ll be over.”

Yes, but we’ll both have had an amazing experience. Isn’t that the reason we’ve formed this short relationship in the first place? I don’t see any reason for a delay. “I’d like to get pregnant today, if possible.”

“You’re going to kill me,” he pants, his mouth smothering mine, dragging me back into another wild kiss. And my lips are no longer the only part of me being kissed. His perfect, perfect mouth rakes up and down the side of my neck, his hands sneaking beneath my skirt to clutch my bare bottom while our hips begin to roll in a rhythm I somehow know is meaningful. Within seconds, I’m being pounded through my panties with such force, the desk pushes across the floor and comes to a loud stop against the wall. “God, those pretty legs are open so nice. Offering me nothing but a tight little welcome for this cock, huh, cutie? Were you sent here to rescue me or torture me to death?”

“What d-do you mean?” I gasp, my earlobe between his teeth, his fingers digging into the flesh of my buttocks, the desk creaking with every forward punch of his lower body.

“I mean that a virgin angel has never been so hot to get banged, and baby…coming between these thighs would mean immortality and a death sentence at the same time.” He curses under his breath, sweat shining on his forehead. He tucks my face into his neck and rides me all the harder through the barrier of our clothing. “I need more time. I need you as long as possible. Please. If you open your legs any wider, I’m going to lose it. If you keep whimpering and whining and flashing me those innocent eyes, I’m fucked.”

For the first time in my life, I’m incapable of understanding someone’s meaning. The words are coming out of his mouth and I have no idea what they mean, because an unfamiliar location beneath my belly button has started to gather. To tighten. I scramble a little on the desk and cry out, pushing at Turk’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “What…what’s happening?”

Immediately, he tips up my chin, studies me through glassy eyes, his hard exhale bathing my face. “Ah, Christ. You’re going to have an orgasm, Missy.”

“Okay,” I bite off, unable to catch my breath. Oh God. I’m burning up. My limbs are tense, but gelatinous at the same time. How is that possible. “Is that good?”