Page 7 of Stranded for Christmas with my Boss

His words fill me with excitement, heat pooling between my thighs. As good as his fingers feel inside of me, they almost feel like a tease at this point, especially now that I have seen the prominent bulge in his black slacks. “Please…I want it now.”

Jensen looks down, admiring how my wetness gleams on his fingers. It pushes him over the edge, and he finally undoes his pants and frees his erection, giving it a few strokes as he slots himself between my thighs. He grabs the small of my back and pulls me to the very edge of his desk, pushing the head of his cock through my folds.

I dig my nails into his biceps, my head dropping back as he slides into me. My lips part, releasing a soft moan as he fills me so perfectly. Every second promises ecstasy, the heat within me burning stronger.

Jensen leans forward and kisses me as he starts rocking into me, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper with each round. He runs his hands up my thighs and around the curves of my hips, gripping my ass and pulling me forward as he thrusts into me.

The deeper he goes, the more intense the pleasure becomes. Tension grows in the pit of my stomach, tightening more and more as he pounds into me. “Jensen…”

Jensen cups one side of my face and kisses the other side of my neck, his lips pressing firmly like he’s dying to suck marks into my skin. A frustrated noise rumbles in his throat as his lips move closer to my ear. “I don’t need to leave marks for you to remember how good I made you feel.”

I rake my nails along the top of his shoulders as he slams into me, pleasure lighting me up from within. With how close our bodies are, there is friction on my clit that nudges me closer and closer to the orgasm that I’m already hurtling toward. My eyes squeeze shut as the pressure in my lower stomach swells before bursting.

Jensen grips the back of my neck, holding me close as he keeps thrusting into me. A single burst of pleasure extends to a few more seconds of tingly, warm bliss. Just as he buries himself inside of me one last time, he captures my lips in a deep kiss.

My heart stops as he caresses me, the heat of the moment settling over us like a warm blanket. But the coziness doesn’t last forever.

Jensen breaks the kiss as he catches his breath. A small grin crosses his face as he pulls out of me and steps back, his muscles looking even more prominent as his chest rises and falls. “You look like a work of art sitting on my desk like that. If only I could keep you just like that.”

Spread legs. Flushed face. My tired but eager body on display.

So wrong but so hot.

“But you should head home and rest today. You did good work today,” Jensen continues before turning away from me to get dressed.

I part my lips to speak, but no words even come to mind. My mind is still full of fuzz. At least I’m not fired.

With a nod, I get off his desk and pull on my clothes, shuffling past him on shaky legs, and making a beeline to the nearest restroom to clean up. My heart pounds the whole way there, a confusing mixture of feelings swirling within me.

Given all the craziness of my first day, I don’t even know how to feel about this job anymore.

Chapter four

Jensen

The savory smell of homemade lasagna fills the kitchen as I take a quick peek into the oven, a wave of heat rolling over me as I check on dinner. Not as hot as the air felt in my office a few days ago, but hot, nonetheless.

“Thanks for cooking, Jen.”

I shut the oven door and smile at Holly, my little sister by five years. At first glance, we don’t look all that much like siblings. She looks exactly like our mom, with dirty blonde hair and brown eyes, while I’m the spitting image of my dad with dark brown hair and blue eyes.

It’s funny how we can look so much like people we don’t have anything to do with anymore.

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her as we stand in her rustic-styled kitchen. I glance behind me toward the living room, my smile broadening at the sight of my six-year-old nephew, Oliver.

Oliver runs around the couch with a red superhero cape streaming behind him and a superhero figurine gripped in his right hand. His thin-framed glasses bounce slightly on his face, but nothing slows his pace. “To the rescue!”

“Can’t believe how big he’s getting,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief as I lean my back against the kitchen counter.

Holly smirks a little as she sips on a glass of red wine. “Imagine how I feel! He’s sprouting like a weed.”

I chuckle and nod in agreement. Oliver is a good kid, and his piece of shit absent father is missing out on the best son he could’ve ever had. Sadness stirs in my stomach as I glance at Holly, watching her gaze at Oliver with pure love in her eyes.

I wish she didn’t have to raise Oliver alone because I know raising a kid isn’t easy even with two parents, but she’s a natural. She would rather be single and happy than taken and miserable, which I understand.

We grew up miserable with our own parents. Why subject ourselves to more torture with our partners?

“I’m here!”

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