Page 83 of Rich and Bossy

Everything gets fuzzy, my whole body numbing in the best kind of way, like pure euphoria, like I’m floating on a cloud. And of course, I get zero time to recover, because as I blink the world back into existence, he’s already pulling off his tie, and yanking down his dress pants.

I shake my head a few times, trying to come back to reality, and I want him inside me as soon as possible. It’s amazing getting off when he goes down on me, but now I want more. I fly up and start clawing at his shirt. When I get a grip on each side, I yank them in opposite directions, sending buttons flying.

His eyes widen a little when I do it, then they narrow on me. “You’ll pay for that.”

I smirk. “I’ll need a raise then.”

This time he smirks back, then yanks me up to my feet, and pulls the dress over my head. I didn’t wear a bra with it, so my breasts come tumbling out. Then he spins me around, and with one of his large hands, splays his fingers across my upper back and forces me chest-first onto his mattress, my feet still planted on the floor.

He leans over me, his hard, chiseled muscles pinning me down with his mouth right in my ear. “You’re not paying with money.” His hand slides down, gliding between my cheeks, and cups me from behind. He massages it a few times, and I might die. Then he takes one of his feet against the inside of my leg and shoves it out, spreading my legs a little farther, right where he wants them.

How does he always make me feel so good? How does he get me to not fight back against him at all? Every action is so firm and I just take it, because he just instinctively knows how to touch me, handle me.

Maybe he’s practiced with lots and lots of girls.

I know that’s a possibility, but somehow I just know that’s not true either. That’s my brain trying to guilt me again.

He lifts his chest off me. “Don’t move.”

He leans back and pulls off his briefs, then reaches for his pants on the ground.

“No, like this.” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them.

What the hell are you doing, Hazel?

This is a horrific idea!

I’m already taking a million risks doing this. What’s one more? I want to feel him one time. Like feel him for real, nothing between us.

It’s like all his dominant, rough sex routine vanishes for a second when I turn my head back to see his reaction.

In a normal, calm voice, he says, “You’re sure?”

No!

I nod. “Like this.Now.”

I turn, facing forward, unable to look at him. This is insanity and I should absolutely make him put on a condom. But I don’t say anything.

No, this is what I want. I’m on the pill. It’ll be fine.

His hand slides slowly up my back, trailing a finger up my spine, up the nape of my neck, until it lands in my hair. He slides his fingers through my curls, then wraps his fingers right around the base, where I put it up. He’s gentle at first, then squeezes. It feels so damn good. He got me to fall asleep last time, by playing with my hair, teasing at it. He’s quickly learning it’s my kryptonite.

I don’t realize it, but he’s suddenly next to my ear. “Tell me what you want, Hazel.”

He’s doing this again? Okay, I don’t mind.

“I want you.”

He teases the head all around me, rubbing it underneath my clit a few times. His hand tightens around my hair at my response.

He growls right in my ear. “Tell me.”

I whisper the words, teasing him a little more. “I want you to fuck me.” It’s barely audible.

“What’s that? Couldn’t hear you.” He pulls my hair hard enough to angle my face up to his, which is now hovering over me.

I bat my eyelashes at him and raise my voice a little. “I want you to fuck me.”

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