Bad Boss, page 5
I could understand that. She had no points of reference. ‘In that case, you can explore those fantasies with me. I like rough sex, so we should suit perfectly.’
She blinked, though whether it was with shock or mere surprise I couldn’t tell. ‘You...do?’
‘Yes. I have those rules for a reason.’
‘Oh.’ Her gaze flickered and she turned her head, looking away.
I frowned. Was this a test? Did she want me to make her look at me?
I firmed my grip experimentally and felt a shudder go through her. Yes, definitely a test. Carefully, I forced her chin up and her head back, so she had to look at me, then adjusted my hold, my fingers gripping her jaw. She shivered, her breath catching audibly.
‘One thing,’ I murmured. ‘I’d like it if you were clear with me about what you want. And, just so you know...’ I flexed my fingers on her jaw, feeling her tremble ‘... I have no problems at all with those kinds of fantasies.’
‘Oh,’ she said again, though this time it was on a long breath.
‘Well?’
She was silent a long time, looking at me, the pulse racing at the base of her throat. Then she said, ‘I want you to hold me down, Ulysses. Even if I struggle. Even if I fight. I want you to take me roughly, overwhelm me. And I don’t want you to let me go.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Morgan
IT FELT GOOD to say it. No, more than good. It felt powerful. I hadn’t realised how bad one-night guy had made me feel until I’d looked into Ulysses’s black eyes and seen no shock or disgust, just puzzlement. Then him telling me flatly how ridiculous it was that I’d even been questioned, that plenty of people liked it—and not only women. Men too.
I might have felt stupid that I’d even believed what that idiot had told me, but it was difficult to feel stupid with Ulysses holding my jaw firmly in one large hand, making me unable to look away. Compelling my honesty.
Isn’t this wrong, though? He’s your boss.
So? Did it matter that I liked this? That I wanted to be restrained and held down by a man? And not just any man. Him.
The thought triggered an intense, heated response, not helped by how Ulysses was holding me against the wall, his hard, hot body pressed insistently to mine.
Yes, he was my boss, and I shouldn’t want to have sex with him, and certainly not rough sex. He was also Damian’s friend and Damian would have an aneurysm if he ever found out.
But I wanted it anyway. Desire pressed in on me, crushing me. Pulsing between my thighs like a giant heartbeat.
Ulysses nodded once. I knew he wouldn’t check that I was sure. As far as he was concerned, I’d given him a green light and he’d take that at face value.
Not that he gave me any time for doubts.
He spun me round so that I was facing the wall and then his fingers closed around the back of my neck in a dominant grip.
My heart was beating so hard I thought I was going to pass out with excitement and I was so turned on I couldn’t speak. Then his grip firmed and he jerked down my pyjama bottoms in one hard movement, taking my knickers with them.
My breath caught, cool air hitting my skin and making it prickle, sensitising every inch. I barely had time to register that my butt was completely bare before he’d stepped even closer, his big, hot body pressing me hard against the wall.
All the air went out of me as I found myself trapped, my heart slamming against my ribs, my pulse deafening. A little bit of fear crept through me, adding to my excitement. It was glorious.
I swallowed, my throat bone-dry.
His big hand slid over my bare butt, squeezing one cheek, and not gently, making me gasp, sending a hot wash of pleasure through me and intensifying my excitement.
‘Amber,’ I breathed, just to test him, perhaps tease him and tantalise us both a little.
Instantly, he stilled. He didn’t move and he didn’t speak, but the hand on my butt cheek stopped squeezing. He kept it there, though, his palm hot against my skin, warming me.
He stroked my butt, not pushing me yet not leaving me alone either, reminding me he was still there. Definitely it wasn’t a ‘stop’, only a ‘go slow’.
‘Red or green?’ His cold voice shivered down my spine, contrasting with the hot burn of his palm on my skin.
I braced myself. ‘Green,’ I said, my voice hoarse.
He moved instantly, as if those were the magic words he’d needed to hear, the grip on the back of my neck shifting. ‘You can’t get away from me.’ His breath was warm on my skin as he murmured in my ear. ‘Struggle all you like. I’m not going to let you go.’
Oh, holy shit.
His voice was a hot shock, jolting me. Because he didn’t sound like his usual cold, flat self. No, this voice was dark, deep and full of heat. Not my boss. A stranger. Taunting me, urging me...
Adrenaline surged inside me, a wild rush of intense excitement that for once I didn’t question, and I arched, shoving back violently against him, using the wall to give myself leverage. I must have taken him by surprise, because I heard a sharp grunt, the hot steel at my back shifting. I had no time to feel pleased with myself, though, because then he pressed harder, using his weight to keep me pinned.
‘Good.’ His dark, hot voice melted everywhere. ‘But it won’t work. You can’t get away.’
I stared at the wall, panting, every bump in that awful wallpaper pressing into my front while he pressed into my back. Every sense I had was focused on him, on the belt buckle digging into my skin and the hard ridge of his cock pushing insistently against the curve of my butt. His clean, fresh scent had become more musky and his breath on my nape was faster, hotter.
I was exciting him, wasn’t I?
The thought only added to my own excitement. I wanted to affect him. I wanted to pay him back for all the times he’d driven me crazy at work, obsessing about things that didn’t matter or leaving me to handle difficult staff issues. For all the times he didn’t see all the work I did for him, the long hours I stayed and didn’t complain. For all the thanks I didn’t get and the praise I didn’t receive.
For all the times he didn’t notice me at all.
Satisfaction twisted in my gut and I took another breath, gathering myself to shove him once more. But before I could, he moved again, kicking my legs apart. Then the hand on my butt eased down, pushing insistently between my thighs from behind.
I froze, a strangled sound of shocked pleasure escaping me as his fingers slid through the folds of my sex. And then everything intensified as those wicked fingers began to explore with firm insistence, spreading me open, finding my clit, one fingertip sliding against it, over it.
More pleasure, white-hot and electric, crashed through me, stunning me, and instinctively I tried to get away to intensify the sensations, my hips bucking and jerking. But he only crushed me harder against the wall with his body, making it impossible for me to move. Impossible to get away from the slick glide of his fingers.
‘See?’ he murmured in my ear. ‘I told you that you couldn’t get away, but I knew you’d like to try. And you do like it, don’t you? You’re very, very wet, Morgan.’
Heat washed through me, uncontrollable, unstoppable. I closed my eyes, gasping as he circled my throbbing clit, making me shudder violently. I couldn’t breathe, too full of sensation to move. My whole body was on a knife-edge, every sense zeroing in on that maddening finger stroking, circling, pressing, driving me insane.
I whimpered, my knees shaking, every part of me trembling as white light burst behind my closed lids. Oh, God, I was going to come so hard, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Nothing I could do to protect myself from the intensity of it. Nothing I could do to stay in control.
I had a second where a sliver of real fear hit me. Not fear of the man behind me, but of myself and what I wanted. Fear of the pleasure that was going to rip me apart.
My hands were against the wall, my nails digging into the wallpaper as if I could claw my way through it and escape him, and the relentless movement of his fingers between my thighs, circling and exploring before pressing firmly and insistently down on my clit yet again. Pleasure was arcing through me, electrifying every nerve ending, edging me closer and closer to the edge.
I could say ‘red’, one tiny word, and all this would stop. This intense, devastating pleasure would be gone. But then I’d be left standing there with only the memory of it hot against my skin and the taste of my own cowardice in my mouth.
And I knew I wasn’t going to say it. He could do anything to me and I wouldn’t.
But even as that thought occurred to me I felt his lips brush the back of my neck again, then he bit me in the sensitive place where my shoulder met my neck. All remaining air rushed straight out of my lungs, another gasp escaping along with it. And then just as I was struggling to process the sudden burst of sensation, the hand between my thighs shifted and he thrust two fingers hard inside me at the same time as his fingertip pushed down on my clit.
The climax hit like a nuclear explosion.
I let out a hoarse scream, all thoughts of escape and traffic lights vanishing, all thoughts of anything vanishing. There was nothing but the bright burst of light behind my closed eyes and the intense, searing pleasure that echoed and re-echoed through me.
And Ulysses behind me, holding me up.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ulysses
I KEPT MYSELF pressed against Morgan, holding her pinned as the aftershocks of her climax shook her. It was my experience that most women preferred their partners to remain close in the aftermath of an orgasm, especially an intense one, and hers would have been intense. I’d made certain of it.
Physical closeness wasn’t something I required, but I had to admit that it was very pleasant to have her against me as she shivered and shook. And it didn’t have anything to do with the slick feel of her pussy against my fingers, or the way her soft, hot curves were pressing against my cock. Or even the sweet muskiness of her scent.
It was something more, and I couldn’t quite pin down what.
Not that it mattered right now, because right now I had plans.
As soon as I’d walked into her flat, I’d decided I wasn’t going to fuck her in here. It was too small and, although she had a sofa, the arm of it was too low and that wasn’t going to work for what I’d planned.
I’d need to take her back to my place, which was much larger and had a sofa with an arm the perfect height. And it was safer for her than this place, especially as I’d just now decided she’d stay the night.
A couple of hours wouldn’t be nearly long enough to make sure she experienced all the pleasure I was capable of giving her, and I certainly didn’t want to short-change her. Not when it was obvious she was hungry for it.
She’d been uncertain, yes, but I’d anticipated that. It took some women a little while to come to terms with their desires, especially when those desires were what society had decided was wrong.
I’d never understand why people cared what society thought, especially when one person’s sexual experience didn’t affect society, only one individual. I certainly wasn’t ashamed of my own sexual preferences, for example.
But then, there were a lot of things that puzzled me about people, and if I spent my time trying to understand all of them I’d never get any work done.
Morgan relaxed against me, all soft and warm, reminding me that I was still hard and in some discomfort.
I very much wanted to fuck her. She’d responded so well, giving herself over to pleasure, proving just how much she’d liked what I’d done to her. That had excited me as much as I’d told her it would, and now I was impatient to get her back to my place where we could continue what we’d been doing.
Taking my hand from between her thighs, I then touched my tongue to my fingers, licking them to get a taste of her. Sweet. Just as I’d thought.
Not wasting any time, I pulled a handkerchief from my back pocket and wiped my fingers. Then I texted my driver, tugged up her ridiculous pyjama trousers to cover her and scooped her up into my arms.
She didn’t make a sound and didn’t struggle, her body lax, her head resting against my shoulder. Her eyes were half-closed, a small smile curving her mouth. She looked drunk, which satisfied me very much.
A particularly intense sexual experience could make people feel like that afterwards, and it clearly was having that effect on Morgan, which meant I’d done my job well.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked, her voice slightly slurred.
‘Back to my place.’
‘Why?’ She didn’t sound bothered, only curious.
‘Because my place is bigger and has better security.’ I shifted my hold as I pulled her front door shut, making sure it had locked behind me before heading towards the lifts.
‘I can walk, you know.’ She sounded more like her usual cool self now.
I stabbed the button, waiting until the doors opened, and then I stepped inside. ‘It’s quicker if I carry you.’
‘It’s not.’ She squirmed a little, but she felt good, and I didn’t want to let her go just yet so I kept hold of her. ‘Keep still.’
She sighed and stopped squirming, her head relaxing back against my shoulder. ‘Why does quick matter?’
I watched the floor numbers above the doors light up as we descended. ‘Because I’m very hard right now and it’s painful.’
She didn’t say anything to that so I glanced down to check her expression.
Her eyes had gone a startling deep blue, the colour very obvious against her black lashes. And as I watched they got even bluer as her pale skin flushed red. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Then why didn’t you...um...you know?’
‘Fuck you upstairs?’
‘Yes. That.’
‘I told you. My place is bigger.’ Really, the contrast between her eyes, her lashes, the fascinating little beauty spot near her mouth and her skin was intriguing.
‘Bigger for what?’
I could have explained, but it would be easier to show her when we got there. ‘You’ll see.’
Just then the doors opened and I stepped out of the lift, heading towards the exit of her building. Outside, my car was waiting in the street as I’d been expecting, and, as I was strangely reluctant to release her, I bundled us both inside and held her in my lap as I told my driver to take us home.
‘Ulysses,’ she murmured, pushing against me. ‘You can let me go now.’
But I didn’t want to. I’d never held anyone before, not like this, and I’d had no idea how pleasant it would be. Her weight in my lap was painful against my aching cock, but I was prepared to bear some pain for the pleasure of holding her.
‘Ulysses,’ she began.
‘Don’t speak,’ I said shortly. ‘I need to concentrate.’
‘Concentrate on what?’
‘On not fucking you right here in the car.’ I meant it. For some reason my physical needs were becoming more and more insistent, making it difficult for me to think about anything else. Which was strange. That hadn’t happened to me before.
Perhaps you shouldn’t be holding her?
Perhaps not. Then again, not holding her wouldn’t help, as she’d still be in my vicinity and I’d still be able to smell her, still be able to taste the sweet, musky flavour I’d licked from my fingers...
Sexual heat flooded through me at the memory, my cock aching.
‘Oh,’ she murmured, shifting in my lap, the movement delivering a short, sharp electric shock direct to my groin. ‘That bad, huh?’
I caught my breath. There was something in her voice, something in the fascinating blue of her eyes, as she stared up at me. Something familiar.
She got that look when she was annoyed with me and wanting to argue. Except all I’d told her to do was keep still and be quiet. That wasn’t too hard, was it?
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It is that bad.’
‘Hmm.’ She shifted again, the curve of her butt pressing down against my cock, sending another sharp jolt of electricity through me. ‘Guess you should have done something about it up in my flat.’
I narrowed my gaze. What did she mean? And why was she squirming around? ‘I told you I wanted to get back to my place.’
‘So you did. But you didn’t tell me why.’
‘Yes, I did. Because it’s bigger.’
She rolled her eyes at the same time as she gave a small wiggle. ‘Another one of your non-answers.’
Once again, a bolt of intense electricity shot through me, making me excruciatingly aware of the ache in my cock.
I liked rough sex. Because the more intense the physical pleasure was for my partner and I, the closer I came to understanding and sharing all those emotions that remained mysteries to me.
Yet I’d never been so aware of the pressure of my own desire before.
It was exciting.
Morgan was studying me the way I studied her, and it came to me slowly that that was exactly what she was doing. She was watching me and gauging my response. And I didn’t have to ask why; I knew.
She’d been wriggling around in my lap on purpose.
‘Morgan.’ My voice sounded much huskier than it should have. ‘Do you want me to fuck you in the car?’
She blinked and flushed, as if the question had been unexpected. ‘No, of course not.’ Her attention flicked to the front seat where my driver was.
I couldn’t work out her meaning. Was his presence an issue? Was that why she’d said no? Or had she said no because she genuinely didn’t want to? But, if she genuinely didn’t want to, why had she been shifting around in my lap? She would have felt the effect those movements had had on me.
She’s pushing you.
That seemed to be the most obvious conclusion, though I was interested in why she might want to push me. Was it because she wanted me to be rougher with her? Harder? Was she trying to find my limits?
