Page 51 of Her Boss

Oh, shit.

His eyes fixed upon me, in my abject surrender, as he used me as little more than a cock warmer.

My mouth was already watering at the sight of the thick veins throbbing, hot and firm, and the feeling of the shaft heavy on my tongue.

He kept me that way for a long moment, just watching me, smiling a little as the heat of my blush spread across my face.

His fingers caressed my cheek, the edge of my ear. “Do you think I’m a nice man?”

I nodded, but he wasn’t happy with that. “Say it—and leave my cock in that mouth when you do.”

I could have sunk into the floor itself with humiliation, and yet I was practically dripping at the diabolical cruelty of it.

“Nnhoh shr,” I replied softly, trying to enunciate as best I could.

I know you’re not a nice guy… and I hate that I want you even more because of it.

I wondered what kind of person he could become if he tried to be one of the ‘good guys.’ Could that even be possible for someone like Rick?

The power of his allure—and how much I wanted to give into it—was dangerous. Such power could erode a woman’s judgment, tempt her to take risks she shouldn’t, to explore something that risked consuming her entirely.

Something, perhaps the challenge of it—or my irrational fear that I’d never find someone quite like him ever again—kept me from so much as moving a muscle.

But the urge to run free from him was just as strong.

What the fuck is happening to you?

“You’re making this harder for both of us,” he said softly. “If you want me, then you take me as I am. If you can’t, then now is the time to walk away”—he gripped my hair, his fingers twisting in it, the roots protesting just a little—“before things get worse.”

For whatever reason, fate had brought us together, two people who shouldn’t have worked… and yet fit together perfectly. Though I knew he was trouble, I was just as certain I couldn’t possibly leave him.

I’d made my choice, perhaps long ago, and I’d accepted the darkest parts of the most fascinating man I’d ever met.

God help you, Genie.

“I won’t change for you… if you stay with me, there’s no protecting you from who I am, from all that I need. You have to accept that, if you want this to work.”

“Eye dhoo,” I said, struggling to enunciate, my face flaming anew.

Thankfully, he took mercy on me, pulling his cock from my lips, though he kept the wet, swollen head pressed firmly to the corner of my mouth, a degrading reminder of his absolute control of me.

I cleared my throat. “I do accept you. I don’t know what that means yet, but… I want to see. I want to learn. I want you to… to teach me.”

“Even if it hurts?”

“Oh, yes,” I said, breathing harder, my voice an embarrassed murmur. “Even then.”

With the thought of not being his, at not being under his thumb, a surge of emotion overtook me, stinging tears welling in my eyes.

Was I losing my mind? I didn’t care anymore. All I knew was that I needed this. Him.

Oh, God help me, I need him.

Despite my fears and doubts and the endless second-guessing, it was only in that moment that I truly understood both him—and myself.

Though it might destroy me, in the end, kneeling at the feet of Rick Trafford, both literally and figuratively, was where I belonged.

CHAPTER 23

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