Page 236 of Hot for the Boss

Impatience chafes. I’ve waited and hidden and pretended for so long. No more. I can’t take it another minute. I want to get inside her, deep, stroke her, fill her—and have her know exactly who’s driving her to orgasm.

Reckless determination drives me, especially when her fingers thread under my mask, through my hair, and I take her other nipple in my mouth. She arches to me, not just inviting, but offering, stabbing the sensitive tip against my tongue.

It’s time. It has to be. Ten years of torture has to end.

My pulse damn near races out of my chest at the thought that I could be inside her, to the hilt, bare skin to skin, looking deep into Lauren’s eyes as my name falls from her lips.

“No!” she says suddenly, pushing at me.

Stunned, I lift my head. No?

“Stop,” she insists. “I don’t want this anymore.”

Yes, she does, and I’m not past playing hardball to prove it.

I slide a pair of fingers into her panties and impale her wet cunt. Immediately, she drenches my digits and scorches me as she clamps down on my fingers, like she’s dying for my cock to fill her.

“You’re lying,” I growl in her ear. “You want this very much.”

She whimpers. “My body does. But my mind… Stop. Please.”

I still but don’t remove my fingers.

“Why do you think you don’t want this? Wednesday should have proven that I won’t demand your love.”

“It’s unfair to both of us,” Lauren pants.

“Unfair?” Interesting perspective. I’ll keep pursuing that as I pursue my way deep into her body. “I have mind-blowing orgasms with you. Whatever is between us is so hot, it’s off the charts. I don’t feel short-changed. In fact…”

With a hurried sweep of my hand, her panties glide down her thighs, over her calves. Before she even opens her mouth to protest, the little scrap of white cotton hits the floor.

“I feel damn lucky.” I wedge my shoulders between her legs.

“No. You shouldn’t. You— Oh my god!” she cries.

I rake my tongue through her drenched slit and settle right where she needs me. She’s so damn wet. And swollen. Her soft folds pout for attention. And I’m all too happy to give it to her.

“No,” she protests weakly. “I can’t. I shouldn’t…”

“Come for me, sugar. Let me taste you all over my tongue.”

“But…but I⁠—”

“Shh.” I lift her hips in my hands and bring her soft pussy to my mouth. My own personal feast. And where she’s concerned, I’m so fucking hungry.

I dive in, teasing her with a dart of my tongue around her folds, into her silken channel…but never quite reaching her clit. Delving between her lips, skimming just to the side of the hard knot of nerves that scream for my attention, I bring her to the brink, put her on edge. Sweat breaks out across her skin. Her thighs tremble as she clutches the sheets and closes her eyes, as if focusing on the sensations. Her ragged pants make me smile.

Backing away, I shrug off my shirt and doff my boots and pants in a handful of seconds.

The mere act of undressing gives her too much time to cool down and think with nothing but her insecurities and fears.

“Please…don’t. We can’t.” Lauren sounds as if she’s crying about that fact.

“We can. Look how easy it is…”

Naked now, I slide back up her body, parting her thighs wider and wider as I cover her completely. And with one determined thrust, I slide home, so damned deep into her swollen, grasping pussy, the sensations of her flesh, of coming home, tear a groan from my chest.

“Oh god,” she wails. “It feels so good. But it’s not right.” She manages to get the words out in a broken whisper.