Page 55 of Dirty Boss

“I haven’t beenwaiting?—”

She gasped as I ground the heel of my hand against her clit, hands scrabbling at the mirror.

“You want me to stop?”

She bit her lip, closing her eyes. I took my hand away from the mirror and gripped her chin, tilting her head until she opened them back up again and met my gaze. Her eyes were liquid, desperate.

“Do you want me to stop, Alba?” I rubbed at the gusset of her leggings, heart pounding so hard I wondered if she could hear it.

She sipped in little breaths, and she shook her head.

“You want me to make you come?”

Alba nodded.

“I need your words, princess.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Yes, what?”

She huffed, frustration flashing across her features. “Yes, I want you to make me come.”

The words sent a jolt through me. She was burning hot against my palm, wet enough that I could feel it through her clothing. She was mad as hell—and she wanted me.

EIGHTEEN

ALBA

I wasn’t supposedto be doing this. And I definitely wasn’t supposed to enjoy it. It had happened so fast, but, but…

Maybe just this once?—

Vaughn’s hand gripped between my legs, and heat pulsed through me. I gasped, clinging to his shoulders, my head falling back onto the mirrored wall with a thump. His scent was all around me. Heat rolled off his body, warming me through. His hands were big and scarred and possessive, and I didn’t have the will to fight my attraction anymore.

There were so few things in my life that were enjoyable these days. A rare vanilla latte at the café near my apartment. The few weeks of later sleep-ins I’d enjoyed since working for Vaughn. Yoga on the only available patch of living room floor—though these days, the living room was bigger and I had a dedicated yoga space in my home office. But who knew how long that would last?

I’d endured more than a year of drudgery, scraping by without the skills or resources required, with nothing but my own willpower and sheer stubbornness to see me through.

And I wastired. I wanted to let go.

That’s why I didn’t back away, why I ignored the voice in my head that told me I shouldn’t give in to the pull of Vaughn. His touch felt too good.

That, and I wasn’t sure I would’ve been able to stop. There was a pounding desire inside me, some other force that made me into a selfish, needy creature. Tension pulled tight below my navel, the promise of release.

I wanted to give in.

Vaughn cupped one hand over the side of my neck, his thumb running along my jaw. Then he kissed me, the heel of his other hand pressing harder against my clit. I squirmed, panting against his lips, and I felt him smile against me.

“So impatient,” he murmured.

“Vaughn,” I whined.

His chuckle was dark, and it sent little sparks of sensation detonating in my gut. Then he slid his hand to the waistband of my leggings and tugged it down, catching my underwear along the way. My hips rocked forward with his yank, and when I leaned back, my ass pressed against the cool mirror at my back.

Vaughn let out a groan when his fingers touched my core once more. I was slick, his fingers sliding against me as he pressed me harder against the mirror. My leggings pinned my legs together, but I rocked my hips forward to try to give him more access.

I was wanton, desperate. I’d completely lost control.