Page 30 of My Forbidden Boss

“I want to taste you, Adeline. One touch is not enough,” he says.

I agree with all my raw beating heart. “Yes, I…I want that too.” My words are woefully inadequate, but I don’t care because he acts.

He slips the button of my blouse open, his eyes raking my flesh as it’s slowly revealed, and I do nothing to stop him. “Is this ok, Adeline? Can I undo your shirt and lick your breasts?” and oh god I nearly climax from his deep voice mixing with those words.

I’d help him. I’d grab both sides of my shirt and rip it open for him if my limbs hadn’t turned to wet noodles. I nod. “Yes. Yes. That’s good, that’s…all…all right.”

Cool air rushes around my chest as he slowly peels back the cups of my bra. The material scrapes over my nipples. They pop free, hardening into twin points of my destruction.

His hand trembles as he brushes his thumb so lightly across one nipple that I barely feel it. His breath shivers. In. out. Slow. Shaking. His eyes lock on my breasts. “Beautiful,” he murmurs before he leans down and I buck as wet heat closes around my aureole.

I cry out as he suckles. His hand massages one breast, while his mouth works the other. I’m boneless. Malleable. I gasp as my head falls back and close my eyes against the glare of the lighting. An alarm blares somewhere in the distance.

“I love your breasts.” He rises, trailing the tip of his tongue up my throat, and places an open kiss on my chin. “I love your face.” He presses his lips at the corner of my mouth. “Those lips.”

He’s less demanding when he kisses me again. His hands stroke my breasts gently and he sighs. He works my bra to cover my breasts, playing with my nipples through the material. I want them gone. I want to get rid of my coat, my shirt, my bra, everything, but he buttons my shirt to the base of my throat. Putting me back together.

“They’ll be beating the doors down soon,” he rasps, and I return to my senses to realize the alarm isn’t distant. It’s ear-splitting and just outside the closed doors.

He adjusts my coat, covering evidence of what we were doing. He makes sure he’s done a good enough job before rearranging the thick bulge between his legs. We share a secret smile and then he pushes the emergency button and the lift jerks into motion. The doors open at the next level and a couple maintenance men peer in, serious and concerned.

“It’s fine. I accidentally hit the wrong button. No need to close for repair,” David says, and I hide a smile at their relief.

We continue our journey up. He kisses me when the doors close, long and slow, and I’m reduced to simmering need again by the time we get to the forty-ninth floor.

“How am I going to keep my hands off you today?” he says.

I twist my fingers in his shirt. It’s soft and his body heat has warmed the material. My fingers graze the firm, toned muscle beneath. I fight nerves and that fluttery tension between my thighs. “I don’t want you to.”

I want his hands on me. I want to keep kissing him, tasting him.

I want all of him throughout the day.

Hands. Mouth. Cock.

Every delicious inch of him.

He groans and his gaze turns to liquid heat. His breath washes over me. He threads his fingers through my hair, tilts my head back as he slides his thigh between my legs. The hard muscle crushes against my core and presses against my clit. Slowly, as though he’s questioning what he can do to me. Pushing me as far as I’ll let him. I part my thighs, fighting the strain in the material of my skirt.

I’ll take what he gives. He doesn’t have to ask. I’ll give it all.

I’m so swollen, so sensitive, that I jerk as electricity shoots through me. My hips tilt as I try but fail to drag my pussy against his thigh, caught in my too-tight skirt. My behavior would shock me if I wasn’t so far gone. I wouldn’t care if the doors opened on every Blue Sky employee. Let them see, consequences be damned. Dangerous. Careless.

Care factor zero.

The only fucks I give are for him.

“So responsive. I can watch your expression all day long as you ride my thigh. Listen to you groan and sigh. You haven’t made those sounds for anyone else, have you? You’ve saved yourself, haven’t you, love? Saved that sweet little pussy just for me.” His voice is barely a whisper, and yet each word is a punch to my overheated system.

It’s as though my whole life has led to him. Before, there was only gray and now there are bursts of colour, fragrance, sun and sparkling glitter dust.

“Yes,” I say. One word to answer everything. Yes, to it all because it’s all true.

His fingers firm against my skull, his grip a claim. “Fuck, love.”

He kisses me. Possess me and all I can do is let him lead. Where he goes, I happily follow.

He kisses me until the elevator stops, when he breaks his lips from mine in that pause before the doors open and eases his leg from between mine, making sure I’m steady on my feet as my pussy throbs and I have to take my own weight.

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