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Liquid heat pools low in my belly, and sensations prickle over my skin. Every touch from him, every kiss and grunt and curse, makes me shiver.
Somehow, I remember how to move my hands. With my forehead pressed against my boss’s throat, with one of his hands between my legs and the other sliding into my dress to cup my breast, I reach down between us and work his pants open.
“You don’t have to.” His low voice is rough. Strained. It sounds so loud compared to the hush of the fountain and the twittering birds.
“I want to.” He presses a second finger inside me, and I nip his throat in reply.
So full. So good.
So perfect.
I’m stretched tight, but it’s not enough. One day soon, I wantallof him. Would he ever allow that? From the things he’s been saying… maybe he would.
If I could even take him.
“Damn, sir.” I whistle as I draw his cock out, weighing the heavy shaft in my palm. It’s either joke or run away babbling at this point, because he’s thick and long and veined andgod.
I’m so ill-equipped for this moment. And this is myboss.
Don’t care. I’m forging ahead anyway.
“Yes.” Sebastian hisses through his teeth as I stroke him. “Harder, Fliss. Yes, that’s right.”
His fingers slide along my slit, teasing and torturing. They pump inside me, crooking against my inner walls.
And we’re both breathing in short gasps. Both burning up together, so hot under our clothes that we’re creating our own micro climate in the center of this maze. It’s extra humid, extra warm, the air so close.
The fountain mists the backs of my shoulders. When I reach down to fondle his balls, Sebastian kisses me so hard that spots of light float behind my eyes.
And this is…
An explosion. Four years’ worth of pent up tension and desire, finally releasing all in one go. Our hands move faster, become clumsy, and as we both lock up and shudder, muscles twitching…
It’s a brave new world. Heat roars through my body, my heart shuddering, and I swear for a split second, I see sounds.
Meanwhile, my boss comes on my thigh with a tortured groan, lashing my bare skin. It’s warm and sticky and pearly white. Definitely gonna tease him for that later, even if it’s so hot I can’t stand it.
Next time I want him to paint my bare stomach. Or my boobs. Or my pussy. Or, no, screw it, myinsides—
Because I’m his, and this man owns me. Always has.
But sometimes being head-over-heels for someone isn’t enough, and Sebastian’s glasses scrape against the fountain wall as he picks them up. Once they’re safely back on his nose, he frowns at my rumpled hair, my creased dress, the spend on my thigh. His jaw ticks, and it’s like he’s seeing clearly again, his mood souring.
My heart sinks. The fountain mist is suddenly freezing.
Didn’t he like it? Those were the best minutes of my life.
“We’ll need to clean up before dinner,” my boss mutters, pushing to his feet. “Get you Bamford-ready again.”
Uh-huh. The punch of hurt makes it hard to breathe, because outside this maze, he wants the fake Fliss. Notme.How did I forget that?
As he scoops me into his arms, I’m stiff and cold. A sad little corpse in a stained fancy dress.
How did I fool myself so badly? I’m such an idiot.
Eight
Sebastian
