Page 16 of One Wicked Night with the Boss

Riley

My first thought when Jonathan took out his cock was that the temp agency woman was right.

Jonathan Barnes had a monster in his pants.

Then he knelt and put his mouth on me, and I forgot how to think entirely.

God, he was good, sucking and licking the same way he kissed me—his tongue by turns bold and delicate. He spread me apart with this thumbs, holding me open while he made lazy circles around my clit.

It was smart to hold onto the bars.Because the things he did made my knees go weak. At first, I looked down, something akin to awe in my chest at the sight of his dark head between my legs, my tits quivering as he worked his magic. Then he dipped his tongue inside me, and my head went back of its own accord, buttery pleasure waving through me, making my neck arch and my mouth open on a long, low moan.

He murmured something against my sex, his low voice sending vibrations between my legs.

But I was long past speech. Long past caring about anything but the hot, wet mouth at my center driving me higher and higher toward the top of the universe. Dimly, I registered the sound of the grate rattling as I bucked my hips, my body doing all the talking.

More, it said. And hurry. I was flushed all over, my skin feverish, goosebumps prickling everywhere.

Jonathan gave me a lingering lick and pulled back.

Immediately, a protest welled inside me, and I looked down. “Please . . .” Don’t stop.

Even on his knees, he was like a god, his dark hair tousled and his gorgeous mouth wet and blurry. Moonlight touched his shoulders and chest, turning him into a classical sculpture. His cock jutted straight and proud from his hips, the heavy balls underneath lifting slightly as he breathed.

“You have no idea how good you taste,” he said, his voice like smoke. Before I could answer, he used one hand to spread me wide open. Then he slid a thick finger inside me and put his mouth to my clit. One, two flicks of his tongue and I was off like a rocket, my orgasm blasting me out into space. I broke apart, my mind blank, my body tumbling and tumbling and tumbling. I clung to the bars, my one point of contact with the real world while everything else crumbled and reformed.

Slowly, bits and pieces fell back into place. My hands gripped the bars. My pussy gripped his finger, squeezing over and over again as little aftershocks rippled through me.

He stood, his eyes more intense than I’d ever seen them, his moonlit face a collection of hard angles. His pants rode low on his hips, and his cock still swayed over the top of his boxer briefs. He hiked up one of my legs and used the other to position his dick at my entrance. The tip nudged my still-sensitive clit, and I let my eyes flutter shut, fresh pleasure crackling over my skin like electricity.

“Watch,” he murmured, and I opened my eyes. He eased his hips forward, inching a little deeper. “Watch me inside you.”

The words were sexy, but they were nothing compared to the sight of his thick, veined shaft sinking into me. It stretched me, pressure building until it bordered on pain. A whimper slipped from my lips before I could muffle it.

He stopped and put his forehead against mine, his thumb feathering back and forth across my thigh. “Okay?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice as gravelly as his. “Keep going. Please.” I lifted my hips, taking him deeper.

“Slow.” His breath tickled my hair. He pulled out a little, his cock glistening from me. From how wet he made me. He stayed like that a moment, his thick length lodged halfway inside me, my slick lips stretched around him. Then he hiked my leg higher, pressing my thigh up and back. Opening me wider.

He thumbed my clit, slipping around and around the tight point. “I see all of you, Riley. I see inside you. And you’re so beautiful.” He cranked my leg even wider, pressing my knee all the way up.

I squeezed the bars as I watched him push forward again, his cock sinking deeper and deeper into my sex. He gave a few shallow pumps, stretching me little by little. His thumb teased my clit, threatening to set me off again. He picked up his pace, going deeper each time. The grate rattled. My hands grew slippery with sweat.

“That’s it,” he grunted, all the way in now, his heavy balls slapping my ass, lighting fires in new places. “God, you’re squeezing me like a fist.”

Deeper. Deeper. My foot dangled, my thigh next to my ribs as he pumped in and out. Wet smacking sounds filled my ears. My breath hitched, and I bit my lip, my breasts bouncing. The grate rattled, the warm metal pressing into my back and ass. He hooked my other leg and guided it around his back.

I wrapped both legs around his waist and hooked my ankles.

The angle changed. Delicious friction. His cock rubbed against my click, and then I was coming again, my eyes squeezed shut as I screamed his name.

He came at me hard, thrusting up and up, his palms on my ass spreading my cheeks apart so his balls smacked my most sensitive, secret spot again and again, sending bursts of forbidden pleasure shivering through me. He buried his face in my neck, his mouth open, teeth nipping at my skin. His fingers dug into my ass. My breasts mashed against his chest. The grate rattled and squeaked, the old metal shaking. Or maybe the building was shaking. The earth shook, and his thrusts grew jerkier, his hips pistoning over and over. Harder and harder.

With a shout, he gave a final, violent thrust and seated himself to the hilt. Warmth flooded my sex, his seed shooting deep inside me.

I released the bars and collapsed against him, flinging my arms around his neck. He held me against the grate. And he held me, his strong arms around my waist, one hand tangled in the hair that spilled down my back. His cock twitched inside me as our hearts thundered against each other. Time stood still, and the outside world fell away. There was just the two of us. Just us in a small space.

And it was enough.

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