Page 59 of Dirty Boss

I’d always faked my orgasms, mostly to get them to stop. To save their egos, to avoid having toexplain.

But Vaughn said this was for his pleasure. He—he was eating me out for his own enjoyment. The knot of tension in my gut eased, and then the sensations overwhelmed me. His hot tongue. His hands, gripping and spreading and holding. The rasp of his stubble, the press of his nose. The low grunts and gasped breaths.

And I let go. I stopped trying to resist the pleasure that grew in the pit of my stomach. I pushed back into his touch, chasing more. Needing more. Vaughn made encouraging noises, his fingers tightening on my thighs, his tongue stroking into me.

Then he pulled away, breathing heavily. “I’m going to fuck you now, princess. I’ll do it hard and fast and you’ll come when I say. Yeah?”

I nodded, strands of hair falling on either side of my face. My mind was deliciously blank, my body buzzing.

“Tell me that’s what you want.”

“Yes, Vaughn. Please.”

He grunted appreciatively, one hand gripping my hip as he stood up. His cock pressed against my ass, hot and hard, and I trembled. With his hands on my hips, Vaughn walked me backward until my arms were extended, my head away from the window. There was the sound of fabric shifting. A crinkle. The reflection in the window told me Vaughn was getting a condom, sheathing himself with steady hands.

And then he fucked me hard and fast, just like he promised. My legs were still pinned by my leggings, and he shoved them together so the fit was tight and overwhelming. His thumbs pressed down on my lower back so I had to arch to take more of him, my arms trembling with the effort to hold myself up.

Everything was Vaughn. His hands, his cock, his breaths, the low murmur of his voice as he told me that I was beautiful, that I took his dick so perfectly, that he’d never had anyone as good as me.

“I want to feel you come on my cock, princess,” he told me, his voice rough with need.

A thread of stress wound its way through me. It was hard for me to orgasm. What if I couldn’t?—

“I want to feel it,” he said. “Want that perfect pussy clenching on me. Do that for me, princess. Give it to me, and then you can lick my cock clean.”

A blush tingled over my lips, but I couldn’t help the sigh that escaped me. I lost myself in the sound of his voice, in the words he used to command me. Vaughn hooked an arm aroundmy waist to pull my upper body tight to his. He spun us around toward the mirrors, and I put my forearms on it while his hand slid down my lower stomach and over my mons. Then his thick, calloused fingers were on my clit, his cock filling me to the hilt.

His breaths were loud in my ear. His free hand reached up to grip my breast, thumb pressing into the soft flesh above my sports bra. I met his eyes in the mirror and realized I trusted him. I was as safe as I’d felt when we kissed. As safe as I’d felt in his apartment, for those three glorious days when I didn’t have to worry about a thing.

Vaughn gave me that, and he was giving me this too.

I came, my head falling back onto his shoulder, my legs shaking as he thrust into me. His groans were wordless, but they told me how good he felt. How goodIfelt to him.

I was still feeling the rush of orgasm when he hardened inside me, the hand on my breast flying out to brace himself against the mirror. His thrusts were rough and deep, and another rush of pleasure went through me. I’d done that to him. For him.

My eyes closed, and my body went limp. He banded his arms around me and kissed my neck, breaths gusting out of his nose to wash over my skin. When he pulled out of me, a warm rush went with him. A moment later, something soft wiped over the skin of my inner thighs and my intimate flesh.

I looked down to see one of his pristine, expensive silk ties being used as a makeshift handkerchief and snorted out a laugh. Vaughn smiled at me in the mirror, kissed the side of my neck, and then lifted the waistband of my leggings back up to where it belonged. His hands lingered on my hipbones, fingers teasing the creases of my thighs. It was a possessive touch, and I discovered I didn’t mind it at all.

“You’re coming home with me,” he informed me, and arched a brow at me in the mirror as if in expectation of a fight.

It probably should have sounded warning bells inside me when I rolled my lips inward and nodded, agreeing far too easily. But I wanted to go home with him. I wanted his soft, tender ministrations and his hard, mind-blanking sex. I wanted him, and I was too far gone to resist.

NINETEEN

ALBA

I wassurprised when we didn’t go to the penthouse. Vaughn had said he was taking me home, but I hadn’t thought he meanthome. Walking into Vaughn’s townhouse felt like putting on an old pair of favorite jeans. It was beautifully decorated but maintained a cozy vibe. Much nicer than my current accommodation, and more in line with the places I used to live when I was part of my old world, but not so cold and impersonal. Evidence of his daughter dotted the space, from a few drawings pinned to the refrigerator to a playroom full of toys just off the main hallway.

Where the penthouse had felt familiar and uncomfortable, this was a beautiful melding of comfort and luxury. I loved it the minute I stepped through the front door.

We found our way to the kitchen, where Vaughn pulled down two wine glasses from the cabinets and grabbed a bottle of wine from the dedicated wine fridge.

“I thought you said you weren’t a wine person,” I said, leaning against the marble countertop.

Vaughn glanced over, grinning. “I signed up for an online wine tasting course, and now I finally have a use for this wine fridge the interior designer insisted I needed.”

Laughing, I accepted the glass he handed me. I wandered over to the big, stainless steel refrigerator and studied one of the drawings pinned there with magnets. It was a drawing of a little girl, her father, and another woman. Shamefully, a dart of jealousy went through me. I’d slept with this man exactly one time and I already felt like I had a claim on him.