Page 16 of The Wrong Boss

Yes—this had been a mistake. It would never just be one night for me. Whatever happened next would be burned into my memory for the rest of my life. I wouldn’t be able to forget how good it felt to be the center of this man’s world, even for a moment.

He brought his lips to my core, and I forgot to be worried about the future. My existence narrowed to his lips on my flesh, his fingers spreading me open, the rasp of his stubble against my sensitive skin. I arched into the pleasure he delivered, panting his name as my fingers burrowed their way into his hair.

Better than the touch of his tongue, though, was the way he moaned at the taste of me. The clench of his hands against myskin, like he had to hold himself back. Like he was about to lose control.

I did that to him. I made him groan with pleasure as his tongue found my opening and dipped inside. I made him rock gently, as if his hips couldn’t help but simulate what he wanted to do next. This powerful, complicated man had been brought to desperation byme.

An orgasm swept through me, bright and hot, tightening muscles that hadn’t felt use in months. Distantly, as my consciousness floated a few feet above my body, I heard Cole’s growl of approval and felt the last few gentle touches of his tongue against my sensitive bud.

He lifted his head. I opened my eyes. Unspoken words hung between us for a long moment, both of us panting and reeling from what had just happened. My world had been shattered and reshaped. I wanted all of him.

Even dizzy as I was, I knew I couldn’t say that out loud. Instead, I went with the understatement of the millennium: “That was nice.”

“Just nice?”

“Very nice,” I amended.

His eyes were alight. “You’re a hard woman to please.”

“Maybe you should do it again so I can reassess.”

His grin was pure wickedness. “I’ll eat you out all night if you let me. Haven’t tasted anything that good in a long time.”

My heart skipped a whole handful of beats, then bucked and galloped as it restarted. Instead of responding, I sat up, wrapped my hand around the back of Cole’s neck, and tugged him toward me until our lips crashed together. I tasted myselfon his mouth. It was illicit and thrilling, especially when his hands slid to my hips and tugged me so I sat on the very edge of the bed, knees pushed wide by the bulk of his body.

Reaching between us, I worked his belt loose. He stroked the skin of my outer thighs as he watched me undress him, the touch reminding me how much I loved the feel of his palms on my body. Then he stood to allow me to push his pants to the ground.

His cock was thick and heavy as I wrapped my palm around it. I’d brought the tip to my lips before I even had a chance to hesitate. The only encouragement I needed was the tortured groan that slipped through his lips as I opened my mouth and tasted him.

This act was never something I’d enjoyed with my ex—at least not in the later years of our relationship. It had felt like a chore. Like something that was expected of me.

But now, with Cole gathering my messy, half-undone hair in his palm while I wrapped both hands around his shaft and took him deeper in my mouth, it felt right. I wanted to hear his breaths turn jagged and rough as I worked him with lips and tongue and hands. I wanted to feel the soft tug and release of his hand clenching at the back of my head. It wasn’t degrading to feel like I could bring this man to his knees with a few bobs of my head, especially when he said my name in that tortured, urgent voice.

“Touch yourself,” Cole grated, and I pulled back to meet his gaze. Both my hands worked his cock as I looked up at him, then back at the focus of my attention. “Carrie,” he said, interrupting. “Touch yourself while you suck meoff.”

My hand was between my legs before I could think to stop myself. Pleasure spun through me as all the inhibitions I’d lugged around for years fell away. For right now, for this moment, nothing mattered other than squeezing every little drop of bliss from the moment, because I knew that eventually it would end.

“You are so perfect,” he said, thumb stroking my jaw as I took him deep into my mouth. “Where did you come from?” His fingers stroked my throat as a harsh sigh blew through his lips. “God, I wish we had more time. The things I want to do to you…”

His voice sounded distant, as if he were talking to himself. It didn’t help my state of mind to hear my own thoughts reflected right back at me.

With more time, I’d lose myself in him. I’d open myself to him in every possible way. I’d do anything he wanted me to.

When Cole finally pulled away, I fell back onto my elbows and tried to catch my breath. Wiping the corner of my lips, I watched him watch me. I knew his irises were dark brown, but right now his eyes looked fully black.

“On the bed,” he commanded, nodding to the pillows. “Spread those legs for me, sweetheart.”

“Nice to see the bossy side of you wasn’t an act earlier,” I quipped—and did exactly what he said. I pulled out the few pins that were still tangled in my hair and fell back onto the plush pillows, then brought my knees up and after only a moment’s hesitation, I spread them slightly.

What was the use of being bashful when we would never see each other again? Iwantedto be bad. I wanted to wring outevery possible moment of pleasure. I wanted him to look at me like I was the only woman in the world. Wanted him to call me perfect and good and beautiful over and over again, because it felt so good to believe him.

Was it an artificial ego boost that I was indulging because I’d just been through a bad breakup and a terrifying morning? Probably.

But this connection was real, even if it only lasted until we went our separate ways. I was tired of overthinking my life, tired of trying to fit myself into what other people wanted.

Right now, I wanted the full weight and attention and focus of one man. He watched me with those dark eyes, his chest heaving with deep breaths, a thin sheen of sweat covering his body.

“Wider,” he told me, and who was I to resist? I let my knees fall open. All it took was for him to lick his lips and exhale in quiet, satisfied triumph for lust to wrap me in a tight fist.

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