Page 30 of Dear Grumpy Boss

“Thoroughly ruined. At my hands.”

“Do you?” Apparently, I can sound sarcastic when I’m riled enough. “Because I don’t feel ruined. Expertly played, yes.” I pull back from him, even if it feels as hard as a planet reversing its orbit. I even manage to arrest his hand.

A faint tension emanates from his lean frame. He doesn’t like what I said or that I stop him from touching me.

This last day with him has given me more insight into him as a man with his own needs and flaws and doubts. He’s still the larger-than-life hero of my adolescence—just lying here with him takes my breath away—but it’s also a disservice to the real man beneath.

A man who clearly went to a lot of effort to give me this night.

“You arranged the blackout, had this suite all ready. Why? Did you somehow arrange the storm too?”

He shrugs, his skin gleaming in the faint light. “You asked me for one night.”

“Whatever I ask you for will be mine?” The idea takes wings in my chest. What if that’s all Zayn needs—for me to tell him what I want from him?

When he doesn’t answer, I try rolling away. “Thanks for the two mind-blowing orgasms, boss.”

In the blink of an eye, he pins me under him. “No, Mouse,” he says with a growl.

For one glorious second, his entire weight presses me down into the mattress. My breasts are crushed against his chest and my breath is a choppy pant.

I struggle under him—an instinctive move, because I really don’t want to get away—and he clamps me down with his powerful body. Desire and longing rip through me as his action tells me what he won’t.

He won’t let me get away. He just can’t.

I renew my struggles and I’m rewarded afresh. This is play, yes but God, I love this feeling of getting under his skin.

His trousers are still hanging over his hips but the weight and shape of his cock press at my core and my thighs fall open, making space for him.

Throwing my head back, I arch into him and groan as different sensations skewer me. All the resolve to get him to talk to me is gone in a puff as his open zipper roughly slides against my folds. I go from zero and wrung out to slick and moaning in three seconds. God, I need that thick length inside me.

“I have a very short time to win you over. I didn’t want to share you with people who don’t deserve you. And definitely not your bloody giant of a brother.”

“Hey,” I say, smacking his chest.

My mind is slow to catch up to his words with all these new sensations clamoring for my attention. I clasp his hips, as if I can stop him. Or even want to, fully. Still, he gives me another swivelof his hips before I push up and bite his lip to get him to stop. His skin feels as feverish as I do.

We’re both panting when I finally manage to say, “Win me over?” over the loud thump-thump of my heart. “You want to win me over. Why?”

His shoulders and biceps bunch as he lifts his hips and hangs over me. I clasp his cheeks, desperate to read him. My heart beats a frantic tattoo in my chest.

Bending down, he brushes his lips against mine in a featherlight touch that speaks of tenderness and gentle affection. Amber eyes flicker between mine the entire time.

He had his mouth on my most intimate folds earlier, but this kiss and the affection in it…slays me. Owns me. I lace my fingers behind his neck as he trails more kisses along my jawline and neck, licking my pulse.

“Don’t leave, Mouse. Please…stay.” He whispers the words against my sternum, as if he’s speaking directly to my heart.

I swallow at the thread of naked need pulsing in his words. Feeling bold, I push the thick lock of hair from his forehead. Something I’ve wanted to do for ages. “I…why?”

“Because I can’t, Sasha.” Tight grooves bracket his mouth. And my name on his lips is both a restraint and a release. “Not without you.”

“Then fuck me,” I say, a fresh fever claiming me. All my fears and doubts fall away. “Show me how much you need me.” This man could ask me to follow him to the ends of earth and I’d do it. I spread my palm on his chest—savor the thundering beat of his heart, and then trail it down, covering as much ground as possible. “I’ll stay if you ruin me, properly this time. And I promise never to ask you for anything, ever again.”

He growls and catches my lips for a rough, biting kiss. I slip my hands over his tapered hips, trying to push his pants down. Rolling off of me, he sheds them and his boxers and comes backto me on all fours. His cock plops against his left thigh, thick and veiny and oh so delicious looking.

I scrape my nails over his hairy thighs. Every inch of him is new to me. And that I can touch him like this…is a fever dream. “I want to touch it, please.”

A twinkle shines in his eyes. “Touch what?”

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