Page 86 of Dirty Boss

“Want my cock in you, raw and hard?” His eyes were nearly black with need. “My little princess needs to be taken care of, doesn’t she? She needs me to fill her up and fuck her?”

My mouth was dry. “Yes,” I rasped.

He shifted behind me, positioning himself at my opening. His gaze lowered, and as he entered me, I knew he was watching. My own head dropped between my shoulders, forehead resting on the pillows, and I exhaled. It felt so good. The stretch of him inside me. The weight of his hands. The heat of his body.

Vaughn shuddered, his hands sweeping up my sides and down my spine. They settled on my hips, his thumbs pressing near my spine, his fingers gripping me hard. He settled into a steady, relentless rhythm, and I clung to the sheets and moaned in the pillows.

“You feel like heaven,” he said, his voice ragged. “You feel so good, Alba.”

I gasped my agreement. My mind was blank, my body burning from the inside out. All I could do was cling on as he thrust into me, our bodies shaking and writhing and groaning. This was something other than sex. It was more. It was rough and feverish and greedy—and nothing had ever felt so good.

Vaughn draped his body over my back, his lips running over the back of my shoulder. My arms trembled, and he shifted to press his hands into the mattress to take most of his weight. His chest hair rasped against my back, his arms caged me in, and his hips snapped forward over and over again. All that existed was me and Vaughn. Our bodies. Our pleasure.

“Love you like this,” Vaughn said, voice gasping, and his words were dangerously close to the ones lingering on the tip of my tongue. “Love the feel of your body. You grip me so good, Alba. Never felt this good in my life.”

“I know,” I panted out. “So good.”

“Want to come inside you. Want to fill you with it, princess.”

I shouldn’t have wanted that, but I did. It shouldn’t have turned me on, but it did. I reeled with it and managed to say, “I’m not on the pill.”

“Don’t care,” Vaughn said, his arm coming around my stomach. He slid his fingers down to my bud and started stroking. “I could put a baby inside you.” He exhaled, hips snapping. “I’d like that. Having you carry my child.”

I huffed—mostly to cover up the rush of heat that went through me. It was wrong to be turned on by the frantic words he whispered in my ear, wasn’t it? It was wrong to want this—to want to be wanted so badly he could hardly make full sentences, so badly he was talking nonsense.

“You’re mine, Alba,” Vaughn said, his fingers moving over my clit. I trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by sensation. “You’ll always be mine, princess.”

“Yes,” I moaned, heat warping through me. It coalesced between my legs, around the spot that Vaughn teased with his fingertips. A fine trembling started in my limbs, and then I was gone. I cried out, muffling the noise in my pillows, lost to the pleasure of Vaughn’s touch. A moment later, his teeth sank into my shoulder, and he came along with me. Another rush of hot sensation went through me, and I collapsed on top of the bedding with Vaughn on top of me.

He caught himself, shifting his weight so it wasn’t fully on me, his mouth moving from my shoulder to my neck as he peppered my skin with clumsy kisses.

“That was nuts,” I rasped.

He huffed, sending a strand of my hair flying through the air. “You drive me so crazy, Alba.”

“Was that—” I stopped, shifting my head so my voice wasn’t so muffled by the pillow. My thoughts were in tatters. I couldn’t figure out what I was trying to ask. “Was that just dirty talk?” I finally managed.

Vaughn slid off me—and out of me—and shifted me so we were facing each other on our sides. His big hand coasted up my side and over my shoulder, reaching up to brush hair off my temple. “About putting a baby inside you?” His brow arched.

I blushed and bit my lip. “I should probably get the morning-after pill.”

His eyes were solemn. “Would it be so bad?” His hand moved from my temple downward, the backs of his fingers brushing the space below my navel. “You carrying our child?”

My pulse sped. Yes, it would be so bad. We’d met only a couple months ago. He was rich, and I was destitute. He already had a child with another woman, and the relationship seemed strained. Having a baby with him would be disastrous. The possibilities that had opened up with my income from working for him would shut. I’d be entirely reliant on him. Vulnerable.

And it would also be wonderful. A sweet-smelling baby with soft, soft skin, bundled in my arms. The sight of Vaughn holding our child, his eyes soft. My features—or his—in miniature. The first gummy smile. A little white tooth poking through, sharp as a saw. It would be the best thing to ever happen to me—if my life were a fairytale. If things worked out for me, which they never did.

Or they neverhad…until I met Vaughn.

“You’re not thinking straight,” I whispered, mostly talking about myself.

“I know,” he agreed easily, his fingers still stroking my stomach. “I know.”

His release was still there, between my legs. Serious blue eyes stared back at me, and it felt like we were having an entirely different conversation without saying a word. A conversation that started with “What if…?”

I sighed, closing my eyes as I shifted and leaned my forehead against his lips. He kissed me softly, his hand moving from my stomach to my side and then up my spine. His touch was tender. We moved slowly, limbs wrapping around the other, lips coasting over skin. Afternoon sunlight slanted through the bedroom window, and I stared at the play of the shadows against the opposite wall.

“You want to come home and have dinner with me and Charlotte?”