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had’ by him. I want to rock his goddamned world.
‘Do I get to tie you up?’ My words are as fevered as my sex-stormed soul.
He laughs and shakes his head, his chin gravelly against my back. ‘No.’
‘Why not? What’s good for the goose isn’t good for the gander?’
‘Not in this case.’
‘Isn’t that a bit sexist?’
‘You don’t like it?’
My cheeks flame and I’m glad I’m facing away from him.
He brings the flat of his hand down on my arse, just lightly, but enough to spark the fire back into me, to make me forget what I want to do to him momentarily and enjoy what he’s doing to me instead.
I push my arse higher and he massages me with his fingers, digging hard into the muscles there. I moan, low in my throat, and then he pushes inside me. I’m so wet. I drop my head lower and now he reaches up, unclipping the belt and freeing my wrists.
He pulls out of me. ‘Turn around.’
A command. I obey, even though a part of me wants to tell him to stuff it purely as a point of pride.
Flat on my back, I stare up at him, my breath rushed, my lower lip sucked between my teeth.
‘I want you to see what you do to me.’ The admission is hoarse; as though drawn from deep in his throat.
He pushes my legs up again, lifting them over his shoulders as he drops into me, and I welcome him as though he’s been absent for months, not moments. He laces his fingers through mine, pinning my arms either side of me, and he stares down at me as he takes me once more.
I sweep my eyes closed as another wave begins to build, but he drops his mouth to mine and pulls my lower lip between his teeth, pressing into it just enough to startle me into looking at him.
‘I want to see you. And I want you to see me.’
Mesmerised, I can’t look away. I watch as his face contorts with pleasure and he rocks inside me, and my own pleasure rides high with his until we are climaxing together, my body flaming to his, leaping with his, burning like his. It is him and me, and no one else in the world exists or matters.
He explodes inside me—a powerful release that makes him cry out loudly...a guttural sound that rips through the room. And I echo it deep within my soul. I am as overwhelmed as he.
He stays above me, his breath uneven, his eyes almost accusing as my own climax recedes, and I am left weak and confused by what the hell just happened to us.
I stare up at my boss, at the man who’s just given me—I don’t know...four orgasms? Five orgasms? I’ve lost count. It’s still the afternoon and my body is covered in goose bumps.
Holy shit. Is this what it’s like with his other women?
They are like ghosts, immediately hovering on my subconscious. I hate it that they’re there, but my brain clearly needs me to remember them. To remember what Jack’s like.
‘So I suppose you don’t get complaints after all,’ I murmur, running my fingertips down his back. Like mine, it is wet with perspiration.
‘Not so much.’
He pushes up, with a smile on his face that somehow doesn’t fill his eyes. He presses a light kiss to my forehead and then stands.
‘I’ll get Hughes to take you home.’
The words seem to be spoken in a foreign language for all the sense they make to me. He’ll get Hughes to take me home? Is he fucking serious? Am I being dismissed?
I smile, even as my mind is reeling from the sheer rudeness of that statement. ‘I need to finish something at the office.’
I am amazed by myself. How do I sound so unbothered? So casual? It’s a bald-faced lie, but it’s the best I can come up with while my body is numbed by shock and fulfilled desire.
