Page 35 of Bought by the Boss

I snort softly. “I am the one standing here naked, am I not?”

That smile is back on his face, his fingers sliding from my hair. He takes a full step back, his gaze roaming over me, from my head to the tips of my toes and then back up again. This time, his regard feels different. It’s like he’s exposing me more, even though I’m already naked.

When he finally breaks away and turns, I release the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. I quickly inhale again, clenching my fists, hoping to God he’s not walking out the front door because (a) I’m horny, and (b) I will never be able to face him again. Like, ever!

Thankfully, he skips the door and moves to the big windows, grabbing a small black remote off the cabinet then angling it toward the Bose music system. A sensual song reminding me of something I’d heard once in a jazz club soon spreads out into the room. When he glances over his shoulder, he’s as focused as I’ve ever seen him. I’m only reminded how little control I really have where it comes to Jackson. He’s not the type of guy you can control. I might have started this tonight. That penetrating look in his eyes tells me he plans on finishing it, if he decides to see this through.

And that’s the feeling I get from him. He’s still undecided.

He gives that mesmerizing half-grin, and takes a chair from the table and sits down. Legs spread wide, in a gesture that is as sexy as it is clear, he arches a single eyebrow again. “Dance for me.”

I swallow. Deeply. He’s daring me. Maybe even challenging me and pushing my limits to see how far I plan to take this game of ours. I’m all in. Two years, I’ve built up the fantasy of Jackson Keller, imagining how a powerful man like him would be in bed. Touching me. Tasting me. Fucking me. I need to find out if the real deal is as good as what I’ve dreamed up.

This is my only chance.

Determined to see this through, I push p

ast the nerves threatening to stop me. I shut my eyes and feel the beat of the music, slowly circling my hips back and forth. When I’ve found my rhythm, I reopen my eyes, finding his penetrating stare narrowed on me. He’s as cool and calm and collected as always, when I slide my hands down over my sides and my thighs, circling my hips, teasing him.

I want to break through to the man who can’t control himself. I want to drive him fucking crazy. I drag my hands back up my sides to my breasts and squeeze them, running my fingers over my face until I slide my pinky finger in my mouth. When I drag it across my bottom lip and circle my hips, he sits up straighter now. A look down and heat floods me at the bulge in his shorts. I feel powerful arousing him.

With the music still flowing around me, I slide my hands through my hair, tipping my head back, getting into the music and falling into the heat between us. I turn to the side, sliding my hands through my hair until I have my index finger in my mouth again. I suck on it, pretending it’s his cock, and then drag my finger down the center of my chest, all the way to my sex.

I can’t look away from him when I slide my fingers between the junction of my thighs, finding myself hot and wet. For him. It’s the intense way he’s watching me. I want him badly. I can easily imagine that it’s his hand touching my sensitive clit. I moan and squeeze my heated flesh, continuing to circle my hips to the music, teasing him with the way I caress my body.

When I moan again, feeling the zings of pleasure being fed to my clit, he breaks away from his statue-like state and hooks a finger at me.

With electricity burning brightly between us, I close the distance, climbing onto his lap, my hands on his shoulders. He’s leaning forward, and I take that opportunity to press my breasts against his face.

He gives a low moan clenching my stomach, and moves to reach me. I swat his hand away. “No touching.”

Both brows arch now. “I’m not allowed to touch you?”

“Those are the rules in the clubs, are they not?” I ask, faking that saying it isn’t painful. I want his touch. I also want him hungry.

He grumbles but plays along, grasping the edge of the chair.

I like the way he’s watching me, staring at me boldly. It doesn’t make me shy. If anything, it makes me braver. Remembering what I’ve seen in movies before, I slide my hands across his chest, every so often brushing my bare sex against the front of his shorts. I feel his erection. He’s big. I know that from the definition I saw outside with his wet clothing on.

Feeling playful, I grasp my breasts and fondle them, right in front of his face. To tempt him. I squeeze my nipples and moan, never stopping rolling my hips, making him imagine me fucking him.

He’s looking from my breasts to my sex grinding against him to my eyes again, almost as if he’s mapping out where he plans to touch me. My clit throbs under the weight of his stare, the promise there. Maybe he thought I wouldn’t go through with it. Perhaps he thought I’d do a shitty job dancing for him and he wouldn’t be turned on. Though what he doesn’t understand is how much I’ve wanted him. And I’ve certainly thought of doing much dirtier things with him than dancing for him.

Ready to take this into the final step, I slide off his lap and turn around, shaking my bum for him. Doing maybe the boldest thing I’ve ever done in my life, I spread my legs and bend over at the waist, exposing all of myself to him. His low growl rises goosebumps across my flesh. I slowly begin to stand, but suddenly, he’s got me in his arms, and he’s turning me into him, instantly capturing a kiss.

This kiss is different. It’s a raw, unleashed type of kiss that nearly melts my bones.

Soon, though, it’s done and he’s backing away. “There is only one set of rules, Mallory. Mine.” He grabs my waist thrusting me up against his erection until I’m dry humping him in a steady rhythm.

I moan, vocalizing what he’s doing to me, and he reaches underneath me. He opens his shorts and slides them down. It’s then I realize when I’d been dancing he’d secretly taken out a condom from somewhere, maybe his wallet. He opens the wrapper with his teeth, and then beneath my sex, he’s rolling the condom onto his cock. Though his mouth is back on mine, while I feel him keeping us safe, all I want is him inside me. I slide my hands across his face, wrapping them around the back of his neck. He reaches for my hips and lifts me then slowly lowers me onto him. My moan follows his low throaty growl. A slight pinch follows into immense pleasure when he finally settles in deep.

I lean away from his kiss to catch the intensity in his eyes before he does something I’m not used to with my ex-lovers. He gets the job done. His fingers grip my sides, and I’m bouncing on him hard and fast, his fierce gaze locked onto mine. Pleasure melts my body, softening my muscles and my jaw, until he has me riding him in a steady rhythm that has my head tipped back, my breasts pushed out toward him.

He takes the opportunity to suck on a nipple deeply, and I become undone. I’ve had men take me slow, take me sensually. Jackson is somehow taking me to places I’ve never gone. His cock brushes against the perfect spot inside, forcing me higher and higher, until I gasp, shocked by the force of my rising climax. “I. Am. Going. To. Come.” I want this. I need this. I squeeze his shoulders, rocking my hips back and forth against him, hoping he can deliver on his promise.

“Yes, Mallory, you are,” is all he says.

I lose sight of him, shutting my eyes, when he releases his hand on my hip to cup my breast. When his mouth latches onto my other nipple and he sucks deep, that’s all it takes. I lose any sense of reality, exploding into my orgasm that somehow wakes me up and drains everything out of me all at the same time.

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