Page 28 of Falling for Her Grumpy Boss

I reward her with a shove so hard the chair moves.

“Fuck me, Dylan. Dylan, Dylan, Dylaannn.”

As she chants my name, I hammer into her until my breath becomes ragged, and my cock is pulsing with the need to come. I pinch her clit between my thumb and forefinger until her body goes rigid.

I drive into her harder, the impact forcing the chair to shift beneath us. She takes it, every thrust, her voice breaking on my name like she can’t hold it in.

“Dylan… Dylan… Dylan⁠—”

The way she says it does something to me. Tightens everything low in my body, pulls me closer to the edge faster than I want. I force myself to hold on, to stay right there with her instead of chasing my own release.

Not yet.

My hand moves between us, playing with the hood as I know it will tip her over. She reacts instantly; her body tightens, and her breath catches. I slow just enough to feel it, the way she gathers, the way she draws inward.

“Come on,” I murmur against her ear, my voice rougher than I intend. “Stay with me.”

I keep the rhythm steady, not letting her drift away from it, not letting her lose that edge. My fingers press, hold, adjust just slightly until she gasps, her whole body going still for a split second.

There.

I keep her there, right on it, until she breaks.

It hits her all at once. I feel it in the way she locks around me, the way her body arches, the sound that leaves her throat sharp and unrestrained. It pulls me under with her, my control slipping as I push into her through every wave that follows.

I don’t hold back after that.

I can’t.

The pressure builds too fast, too strong, and I let go, driving into her as everything tightens and releases at once. Right before I let go, the thought hits of being closer than this with nothing between us. Just her taking all of me, my body answering something older, deeper, a pull that has nothing to do with sense and everything to do with claiming, with leaving something behind that’s mine. My grip on her shifts, holding her steady as I spill into the barrier between us, my body pulsing with the force of it. I spill my seed into the condom. Frustration flashes through me alongside the pleasure, sharp and instinctive, because some raw possessive part of me suddenly hates the thin layer separating us.

I stay there for a moment, breathing hard, forehead resting against her shoulder, trying to come back down. A different kind of heat settles low in my gut, quieter but deeper, as I pull back just enough to look at her. The way she still trembles, the way her body softens after, open and spent in a way that does something dangerous to my head.

Mine.

The word lingers.

I’m so screwed.

CHAPTER 7

Dylan

The late afternoon sun sits heavy over the yard, pressing down on everything. The grill throws off another wave of heat, smoke rolling up in slow curls that carry the scent of char and spice across the space. Someone laughs near the cooler, a bottle thuds onto wood, and music plays low enough that it fills the gaps between voices without taking over.

I barely track any of it.

Tess stands near the far end of the deck with a glass in her hand, her shoulder angled toward Clara as they talk. The late sun catches along the edge of her hair where a few strands have worked loose from that tight knot at the back of her head. She lifts the glass when Clara says something, but she doesn’t drink from it. Just turns it slowly between her fingers while she listens.

She looks comfortable here.

Not relaxed exactly. Tess never fully relaxes. There’s always awareness in her posture, in the way she positions herself slightly to the side instead of squarely in the middle of a group, giving herself room to move if she wants it. But she isn’t guarded either. Clara shifts Lily higher against her shoulder, and Tess’s attention drops immediately, the change in her expression small enough that most people wouldn’t catch it.

I do.

The baby curls a fist against Clara’s shirt, making a soft, unhappy sound, and Tess smiles before Clara starts bouncing her gently. The expression comes and goes quickly, there and gone in less than a second, but it changes her entire face when it appears. Softer around the mouth. Warmer through the eyes.

My chest tightens before I can stop it.