Page 28 of Dear Grumpy Boss

I look up at the dark ceiling and blink back tears. For some reason that I don’t understand, he’s decided to indulge me tonight. Only to a point, apparently. But I’m so gone for him that I’m willing to take whatever he gives me.

Gathering my hair—it keeps tickling my already heated skin—I spread it around my head.

He returns just as I’m getting antsy, champagne bottle in hand. With his trousers hanging off his hips, the V of his pelvis is a treat I can’t look away from. His muscled shoulders and defined pecs gleam, but his tension is as tangible as the cool breeze coming in from outside.

What the hell does he have to be tense about?

“Sit up halfway,” he says in that gruff, grumpy voice. As if I’ve already displeased him.

And yet, something about that very tone goes straight to my needy, achy core.

I do as he commands, my breasts jiggling with the effort. His cock is at my eye level and it’s all I can do to stop myself from leaning over and licking the thick length.

One of his hands grips my shoulder and before I can blink, a splash of cold liquid hits my neck. I gasp and flinch but he doesn’t let me jerk away. We watch the liquid slither down my skin, between my breasts.

He bends down and catches it right as it dips into my belly button. Tension coils inside me. The slurp of his warm lips against the cool liquid…is indescribable.

I sink my fingers into his hair, desperate to keep his mouth on my skin, but he’s too fast for me. It doesn’t matter that I brace myself for what comes next.

My breath rushes out of me in a whoosh as the champagne hits my left nipple. Before it can drip down, Zayn’s mouth is there, catching it, licking it, licking the underside.

Afraid that he won’t welcome my touch, my hands seek the bed and grip it tight. He continues this torment over and over on each breast until I’m sticky with champagne and his licking. Stickier still at my core.

“Please, Zayn…” I say, a million wings fluttering under my skin. “Please…”

“Please what, Mouse?” he says, looking up at me, rubbing his stubble against the peak.

“Please suck them. I can’t bear it.” I grip his hair and pull. “I need it.”

“Show me how you want it.”

I cup my breast and with one hand still in his hair, I bring it to his lips. “Open,” I say, half begging and half sobbing.

He opens, clamps his lips around the bud and then suckles. I twitch and moan and writhe and just when I think I might reach that peak again, he stops.

My growl is loud and ferocious in the silence, as is his following laughter.

“I hate you,” I say, every inch of me trembling.

“Battle words, baby girl.” Fingers bracketing my throat, he pushes me back onto the bed.

His mouth leaves open kisses over my pubic line and then he clamps his teeth over my panties. The lace rips loudly. Cold,weighty glass presses against my inner thigh and it takes me a moment to understand.

I splutter incoherently when the champagne hits my folds. And then his mouth is there at the low end, catching it all. Drinking it in with wet, slurpy sounds that make my core gush.

I push onto my elbows, just in time to see him nosing up through my folds, his dark-red lips wet. He looks up and the wicked glint in his eyes floors me. This man could own me so easily, body, mind and soul. If he doesn’t already.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to taste you, Mouse?”

I shake my head, displacing little beads of sweat.

“So long,” he says, almost to himself. “Telling myself it’s wrong. Only to have you leave me?”

“Zayn, I—”

“Did you do this for me too?” he says, tracing the shape of my bare lips with a reverence that I’ve never seen in his eyes before. “All this slick for me, baby girl?”

I nod. Words are beyond me at this point. He could use me like a blow-up doll for all I care. But so far, all he’s done is pleasure me. I’m frowning at that point when he dips in and sucks my clit with his lips.

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