Page 14 of Bewitching the Boss


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Oh Christ, it feels painfully good.

Claiming Jane.

Taking ownership.

It’s a shameful thing to enjoy. Women are independent beings, right?

And yet, this one is mine, mine, mine. I can’t control that belief. I can’t stop myself from acting on it. Mine.

In that moment, something dark and unwelcome occurs to me.

If I don’t fuck her, if I don’t claim her completely, someone else will apply for the job.

Denial bubbles up in my sternum, the walls of my throat constricting. No. No, I’m not going to let that happen. I have to break my oath. Have to be what she needs.

Now. Right now.

The tech bro begins to charge back in my direction, but he stops abruptly when he realizes who I am. “Oh shit.” He clears his throat awkwardly, trading a wide-eyed look with his buddies. “I didn’t…I’m sorry, DeWitt. I didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”

“Well now you know. Fuck off.”

There’s a soft intake of breath behind me and I turn to find Jane with glassy eyes, her cheeks flushed. My God, she’s so soft looking. So sweet and horny. I’m not sure how I’ve made it through our first three encounters without planting my cock inside of her, but I’m not going to make it another five minutes. Not when this beast is howling inside of me, ordering me to stake a claim. Make her mine without question. Now. Now.

“Go wait for me on the back patio,” I tell her hoarsely.

When she does what I tell her with no hesitation, the part of me that called her a little slut expands and intensifies, before I can stop it. Yeah. I’m going to bang her tempting body in the back of this coffee shop like we’re having a cheap tryst—and once again, I have this sense, this bone-deep intuition, that it’s exactly what she craves from me. The opposite of romance.

She wants it raw.

Nasty.

I’ve never been with a woman before, so I have no idea where this instinct is coming from, but I know damn well it’s only for Jane. I’m powerless to do anything but act on the impulses she is inspiring in me. They’re so strong, I can’t resist. Can’t do anything but stride over to the counter, take out my wallet and slide a few hundred dollars toward the young man behind the register. “Make sure no one comes out on the patio until we leave.”

“You’ve got it,” he laughs, already counting the money.

And then I’m on my way to her. Down the L-shaped hallway and out into the rear outdoor space, a brick patio with trees overhead, strung with lights. Tables and chairs. A small stage for nighttime musical acts. But It’s raining outside, so there is no one here. Just us.

Jane stands with her back to me, raindrops falling from above and soaking the purple silk of her slip dress. Making her knees knock together. Or maybe…I’m doing that? Her legs seem to tremble with more force the closer I get. There is no doubt my body is in control, my logical brain taking a back seat, because my hands are already moving. Settling on her hips from behind like I’ve touched her a thousand times before—and yanking her back against me. Hard.

Raking my open mouth up the nape of her neck.

“Jane,” I rasp.

She makes a sobbing sound, fitting her ass into my lap. Her body quivers head to toe. “Why are you shaking?” I kiss my way up the side of her smooth neck, inhaling the addictive scent of her, rocking my cock into the snug valley of her bottom. “I’m not experienced, we both know that, but…are you supposed to tremble like this when I’ve barely touched you?”

“No,” she whispers, her head falling back onto my shoulders. From above, I can see down the low neckline of her dress to her braless tits, the horny jut of her nipples. And I cup them in my hands like they’re mine, like I own them, squeezing them once.

Slapping them.

“I’m sorry,” I say on a gusting exhale. “I don’t know what happens to me around you.”

I start to take my hands away, but she snags my wrists, drawing them back. Placing them back on her mounds. “Trust yourself, Byron.”

I’m shaking my head and licking her neck at the same time, my dick throbbing against the zipper of my pants. “I can’t. You should be treated like a princess.”

Slowly, she turns in my arms, and the naked hunger I see in her eyes makes my heart pound triple time. “I don’t want to be treated like a princess,” she whispers, walking me backward. Back, back, until I fall into an armless chair, lust stabbing into my belly, my loins. And that desire only explodes when she strips off her dress, leaving it to get soaked on the table behind me.

My God. My God. Her nude body in the purplish storm light is nothing short of breathtaking. It robs rational thought out of my head, steals oxygen from my lungs, my blood heating to liquid silver. My head fucking spins at the sight of my beautiful Jane in an itty-bitty thong, nothing else to cover her save those high heels.

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