Unbearable Boss, page 12
“I thought you wanted us to have dinner,” I said, confused.
“I do,” he said. “Come with me. This way.”
He walked me up through higher levels until we reached a small, locked door. Behind it was a smaller staircase, almost rickety.
When he opened the door at the top, light poured in, even though it was long past sundown.
“I’ve been meaning to show you this,” he said. “I thought tonight would be perfect.”
“What is this, Paul?” I asked, my mouth agape.
“The roof garden.”
I had never seen anything like it. It looked like we were at a fairyland villa or a castle made of light.
The two-story roof deck looked like a twinkling multi-tiered cake. The lower part had a table surrounded by luxurious sofas, chairs, cupboards, and display cases. Candles lit a sumptuous dinner prepared for us.
“Have a seat, Melissa.” He pulled out the pillowy outdoor chair.
He opened a bottle of champagne and poured it first for me, then him.
“Oh, Paul. This is all too much,” I said.
“For you, nothing’s too much,” he said. “Besides. We’re celebrating.”
“We are?”
“You think I’d let you just submit your thesis without a celebration? You’ve become an important part of our… of the house.”
“You’re important, too, Paul,” I said, hoping he would hear the deeper meaning. “I mean, my thesis hasn’t been accepted yet, though. So, there’s not too much to celebrate yet.”
“Of course there is. You submitted it. This has been such a big part of your life for such a long time. We have to celebrate. Then, we’ll celebrate again once it’s accepted…”
“If it’s accepted…”
“When it’s accepted.”
He raised his glass to clink with mine.
“Here’s to you,” he said and drank. Then he took my hand in his.
We worked our way through the courses together—salad, shrimp ceviche, pesto linguine, bluefin tuna, Brussels sprouts, fresh baked bread, and tiramisu for dessert. My favorite.
The conversation barely touched on Amelia, maybe for the first time since our first night. We talked about our childhoods, our first impressions of New York, our college years, my thesis, and our hopes for the future.
It felt like just a man and just a woman on just a normal date. No baggage or awkward back story. It was all wonderfully, marvelously normal.
“Let me take you up to the upper part,” he said once we finished dinner. “We can look at the stars.”
“We can see them so close to the city?”
“No,” he said with a laugh and looked directly at me. “But I see one right here. Wine first, though.”
Paul took out another bottle and asked with his eyebrows if I wanted a glass. I nodded.
Just then, a sudden barrage of pings and notifications from our phones interrupted the secluded calm. I went to reach for my phone from my dress pocket.
“No,” Paul said.
He grabbed me by the waist and kissed me. His lips were tender on mine, and his warm tongue melted into me. I would trade my every last breath for one kiss from him.
Chapter Fourteen
Melissa
“Let’s go,” he said. “Upstairs on the roof deck. I want to show you. Ever since I met you, I wanted to bring you here and fuck you senseless.”
He bent me over in a kiss on the stairs on the way up, pressing me up against the railings. His hips dug into mine, and he moved his hands all over me. I touched his smooth cheek with my hand, feeling the graze of his stubble.
I hung onto his neck with the palm of my hand, and he curled his arm around my waist tighter. He let me go long enough to lead me up the stairs, onto the wooden platform of the second story of the roof deck.
He pulled me onto a four-poster daybed, under a canopy of the lights of the city. Buildings towered above us, and we could see the faint gleam of stars.
He took me in his arms and lifted me onto the bed, his muscles bulging from his shirt. He lay me down gently, like a sleeping beauty he didn’t want to wake. He laid me down flat and leaned over me delicately, then kissed me with urgency. I explored his mouth with my tongue, and he split me open with his in response.
He jabbed his pelvis into mine, our bodies digging into each other in parallel with our mouths. He hung over me, and I needed to remove his clothes.
“Take these off,” I said, tugging at his sleeves.
He rolled off me, and I helped him unbutton his shirt. I got the top, and he got the bottom. My fingers lingered at his throat, and I stroked his Adam’s apple with my thumb. He took off his shirt, and I felt the desperate need to have his lips on mine again.
He flipped my dress over my head and lathered my flesh in his hands. He stopped at my breasts and pressed down in circles. He unhooked my bra and snuck his hands underneath the cups as he lifted them from my nipples.
He kissed them one by one, nuzzling each nipple with his tongue.
“God, that feels amazing,” I said to him.
“Everything about you is amazing, Melissa,” he said.
I went to kiss him, and he signaled to me, no. His head went back down to my nipple, and he pressed down firmly with his tongue. Then he moved to the next one.
Only after that did he kiss me again, pulling me to the side so we were face to face, our legs laced between each other.
“You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen, Paul,” I said, tipsier from him than the champagne. I loved how his rippled abs felt against my smooth skin, and the force of his biceps as he lifted me. I loved the way the thin trail of hair led a path toward the enormous bulge in his pants. I was dying for it.
“I want you to take these off,” I said, pulling at the zipper on his pants.
“I want you to do the honors,” he said to me and pulled my hands toward him, like he was leading me in a dance. “Mmm,” he moaned at the slight touch.
A shudder went from my throat to my thighs. This powerful man, who commanded a company worth more than some countries, ceded himself to me.
He arched his back as I undid his fly slowly, then pulled down his pants and underwear at the same time. His thick cock saluted in response and twitched in anticipation of being inside me.
I lightly touched my fingers against the vein down the middle. When he shuddered, I felt it throughout his body. I wanted his thick, long cock inside me, to feel the weight of it displacing me.
He reached out and massaged my breasts, kneading them, desperate to touch me. I stroked his chest, feeling the strength of his body. I loved knowing that he was strong enough to pin me down and hold me there. I felt protected and spared at the same time.
His hands moved down, feeling the contours of my hips and waist as he squeezed with his thumbs. He touched my wetness, sliding his flat fingers above the gusset of my panties, teasing me by not placing his fingers further in.
“Put them inside me,” I said, begging for him to relieve the craving in my lower waist for his touch.
“These?” he said with a smile and wiggled his fingers.
“Yes. I need your touch. I need to feel you feeling me,” I said.
His fingertips brushed against my lips even more softly, teasing me. The more I expressed my desire, the more he would make me beg.
I squirmed at his teasing touch. It was something between a tickle and a scratch, and I needed him to relieve the tension he stirred in me.
Then, when I least expected it, he pushed into my clit with his thumb and put three fingers in me.
“Mmm, feel how wet you are. Is that for me?” he asked.
“Yes. God, yes.”
I reached for his cock and stroked it, hard. I wanted him to know how much I wanted him.
“I love this thing,” I whispered to it. “I’ve never seen anything more perfect.”
“Neither have I,” he said, staring at me in the eyes and gripping my wet pussy like it belonged only to him.
He slid his tongue underneath in an undulating motion. “God, your taste,” he said.
“I want you in me now,” I said. “I can’t take it any longer.”
I presented myself to him flat on my back and spread my legs wide, wanting to split myself fully open for him. I bent my knees and motioned for him to come closer.
He reared upward, like a bear on attack, and I gasped at the sight of him. He held his huge cock out, rubbing it with one hand, then reaching down to rub me with the other.
There was something about the evening—about the entire course of the month we spent together, and especially this week—that made us want to savor each other. We wanted to devour each other, but even more, we wanted to enjoy all of ourselves in slow motion. We had all night.
After spending a whole night with him again, I didn’t want to imagine having to spend a night without him. So I stopped myself from thinking. It was only me and him and the present.
“Come closer,” I said. “I need you now.”
He leaned down, like a gymnast preparing for an exercise, and plunged inside me without hesitation. I could feel him shaking, and his cock getting even harder at the warm, soft wetness surrounding him.
“I can feel you growing,” I said, panting from desire.
“I can feel all of you around me,” he said.
He thrust slowly, dipping himself in and out. He held onto my shoulders, and I stroked the sides of his stomach like worshiping a god above me. He held himself back, with almost a painful look on his face. The agony of ecstasy.
I could tell that his body was pushing him to go faster, harder, to climax right away, to consume me fully. But I could see in his eyes a desire for it to last as long as possible, for him to be inside me for hours, for me to feel him filling me from midnight to morning.
I wanted him to get so used to being inside me that it would feel more normal for him to be there than not. I wanted him to be homesick when his dick was anywhere else but in my body.
He tensed himself in me and moved slowly.
“Oh my God, I can’t take it,” I said. “It feels so good for you to tease me like that.”
“Squeeze me, Melissa. Hold me in place. Hold me so tight that I can’t even move.”
I clenched with the intensity of everything I felt for him, in a feeling of mutual ownership, mutual submission.
It was pure, mutual pleasure. Extra tension leading to extra sensation. He buried his torso into me, as close as we possibly could while remaining separate entities. If we got any closer, it felt like the border where I ended and he began would dissipate. One heart, one mind, one body.
I dug my fingers into his back, feeling every tensile muscle flexing in him. He kissed me deeply with his perfect lips while we made love.
I squeezed my legs around him to draw him into me even further and bucked up my torso. He started pumping faster and panting, and my breath grew faster. Sweat glistened over him, like crystal reflecting off his perfect skin.
His eyes rolled back in his head. He pulled my hair and thrust deeper and faster into me. I licked his neck and squeezed harder.
“I want to see you beneath me,” he said. He pushed me onto the bed and rose up in an angle, entering me more deeply, with more power.
His full length filled me to the brim, stretching me beyond what I thought possible.
“Mmm!” He grunted like an animal, unable to hold back his pleasure. It made me even wetter. As huge and thick as he was, and as tight as I was around him, my wetness enabled him to go even faster and deeper. It was effortless, like we defied gravity. I could feel every part of him, with no resistance.
He pounded on top of me and grabbed my breasts, leaning his head back with every pump inside me. I could stare at his face like this forever, knowing there was no conscious thought in his mind, only animal instinct and pleasure. He was getting closer with each grunt.
His eyes narrowed into slits, and his moans became louder. I reared up my hips to collide with him, connecting with a fury before separating them again. It felt so good that I wanted to keep him there, to hold him inside me. But the movement in and out, him entering and leaving, the combination of friction and sliding, felt too good to stop.
I was getting close.
The pure physicality took us outside of our bodies, into an almost spiritual realm. My breath joined with his, and his exhalations felt like a response to mine. We moved in perfect rhythm. I could feel the thickness of his cock bump up against my clitoris, and I held onto his hips to push him inside me with even greater force.
I wanted him to destroy me. I wanted to be destroyed. I wanted us to leave nothing left, no remnant of the full consumption of our bodies.
“Mmm, you feel so, so good, Melissa.”
“I’ve never felt like this before, Paul. You’ve ruined me for anyone else. You’ve ruined me.”
“You like being ruined?” he said, panting.
“Fuck yes. Destroy me, Paul. I’m yours. Do with me whatever you want. Use me. Torture me. Take me as your plaything.”
“Oh God, yes, Melissa. My innocent good girl. I’ll defile you, and you’ll love it. I’ll teach you what it’s like to have a man inside you,” he said.
“I’m so close to coming, Paul,” I said.
He slowed down. “Not yet, baby girl. Not yet.”
He took his dick out of me and rested it on my stomach. No. God. It almost physically hurt not having him in me, and I could see the pain on his face, too.
“No, Paul. I need you.”
“I don’t want you to cum until I’ve tasted here,” he said. He put his lips in between my thighs and sucked, making lapping sounds and moaning with pleasure. He smacked his lips and hummed, moving his tongue in and out in circles, hard then soft.
“God, you taste amazing, Melissa. Like honey, mixed with lavender, mixed with vanilla, mixed with spice. God, I would trade your taste for anything.”
He pulled himself up to me. I kissed him deeply, knowing how turned on he’d be by sharing what he considered a delicacy.
“Mmm, God, Melissa,” he said. “Now I can taste you on your lips. Fuck. It’s amazing.”
He grabbed my cheeks and kissed with an urgent pressure, sucking my lips, taking my tongue into his mouth.
“I want to have your taste on my lips when I cum, Melissa,” he said. “I want all of you.”
He thrust his cock back inside me, and I felt like a drowning swimmer who had just reached the surface for air. I had my life again, reviving me.
“God, Paul, you feel so fucking amazing,” I said.
“So do you, Melissa.”
He pulled me up while I was still on him, and he took me over to an upholstered banquette built into the side of the wall.
“You think people can see us?” I asked.
“Do you like that?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because I love being your plaything. I want everyone to see how powerful of a man I have.”
“I like it, too. You know why?”
“Why?”
“So that everyone knows that the most beautiful girl in the world is right here, filled with my cock, taking every inch. So that everyone can look with envy, not knowing I’m inside the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. The most perfect pussy I’ve ever felt. Men would start wars over that.”
He fucked me standing up while I was seated on the pillow, banging into me with hard thrusts that felt like silk inside. He lifted me up off the pillow and held me in the air. I squeezed his legs as he held my hips and moved me up and down on him.
“My professor. My sexy little professor,” he said.
I could feel his body tensing, and his cock began to lightly spasm, a chain reaction beginning that would lead into orgasm.
I squeezed him tightly, and he moaned. He angled me so that his pubic bone would stimulate my clit directly, and I could feel myself peaking, the tightening before climax.
We felt every particle of each other, every twitch of our connected flesh as he burst into me. I rhythmically uncoiled all of my pent-up pressure, and the dam inside me broke.
“Fuck, God, I’m cumming, fuck, Melissa,” he said, and I could feel his warmth trickling into me.
“Me too, Paul. Me too. God, I love the feeling of you inside me, your cum filling me up, fuck,” I gasped.
He crashed onto the padded pillow, holding me on his lap, and I finished my climax seated on top of him. The last spurts died down into a trickle, and we collapsed on the small puffy mattress beneath us.
We held each other, lying prone, feeling the steam rising from each other’s bodies and listening to our chests rise and fall. I never wanted to move again. I didn’t want to go anywhere. This was the only place I wanted to belong.
Eventually, we knew we had to re enter our normal daily lives. We stretched out our paradise for as long as we could. I went downstairs to get us some water and found my phone buzzing with new messages.
I opened the last one, the text my high school best friend had sent.
omg have u seen this
I clicked the accompanying link and scanned the page with rising horror.
At the center was a candid photo of me, Paul, and Amelia together.
You’ve Come a Long Way, Babysitter: Gold Digger Nanny is Finance Billionaire’s Latest Conquest.
Chapter Fifteen
Melissa
“How did you get this number?” I barked into the phone.
“Ms. Harper, I only need a moment…”
An unknown number flashed as incoming just a moment after receiving the first call. I fumbled to reject it, then immediately hung up on the active conversation.
The morning had only just begun, and I was ready for the day to be over.
“What’s happening, Melissa? Your phone keeps going off. Are you setting alarms for something?”
“I wish, angel,” I said. “No, just people who are trying to bother me.”
“Daddy gets that sometimes. People calling to ask for money. One time the president called,” Amelia said.
“Wow. Did you get to hear his voice?”
“Yeah. That was part of why Daddy agreed to give him money, I think. So that I could hear him. It was fun. He was nice. He told me about the White House dog.”
