Page 69 of The Wrong Boss

His words made me soar. I turned my head and caught his lips, mumbling, “Me too,” between kisses. I knew it was just the heady intensity of the moment talking. He hadn’tactuallymissed me. And I…I wasn’t sure what I felt. All I knew was that the pinpricks of pain in my hair when he pulled my head back made pleasure tighten below my navel, and that the way his other hand swept up my flank to tease at the edge of my panties was almost enough to make me climax.

Yelping as he hooked his hands under my butt to pick me up, I laughed and clamped my arms around his neck. His body was so warm and hard andmine. Not forever. Maybe not even for the night. But forright now, it was mine.

“After I left the hotel, I tasted you on my tongue for the rest of the day,” he admitted, voice low as his lips traced the pulse racing in my neck. “I didn’t want to brush my teeth that night.”

A truth for a truth: “I kept hoping you’d turn around and knock on my door again.”

“I almost did.”

I exhaled at his admission. He carried me to the bed and laid me down on top of the covers, his palm pressing the mattress down next to my head. With his knees nudging mine apart, I felt as giddy and as free as I had the first time.

His hand dipped under my dress again, and this time he didn’t stop at the edge of my underwear. With his body propped over mine, Cole slipped his hand against the core of me, where I was already wet and wanting for him. He groaned low and long, eyes flickering shut as his fingers trailed through the evidence of my arousal.

“Still so wet for me.”

What else did he expect? “I dreamed of this for weeks afterward,” I admitted.

His lids were at half-mast, eyes dark as pitch. One finger slid inside me as his lips parted on an exhale. “So it wasn’t just me, then.”

“You dreamed of me too?” My voice caught on the last word, back arching at his touch.

“Thought of you, dreamed of you, jerked off to you.” He added another finger and curled them just so, the corner of his lips tugging at the sound of my gasp. “Imagined you just like this, Carrie. Splayed out on the bed with my fingers inside you.”

“Just your fingers?”

He barked out a rough laugh and dragged his thumb over my clit. The sizzle of pleasure that went through me was intense. I gasped and arched, clawing at his shirt. I pulled it up until I felt skin, and then let my hands roam free over the broadplanes of his body. His skin burned as hot as his gaze. I ripped at the black fabric, laughing when buttons popped off.

“Oops,” I said, and tore at the rest of the fastenings to get the garment off him.

The curl of his lips was wicked, and a moment later, he had my undies in his fist, tugging hard enough to rip them clean off. “Oops,” he repeated back at me.

I laughed, delighted. I’d forgotten about this—thefun. I’d forgotten that it wasn’t just a sizzling connection between us. It wasn’t just sex. It was laughter and teasing, it was true intimacy. Riding high on the feeling, I twisted my hips and pushed him down to his back so I straddled him. He made a low, surprised noise and then placed his hands on my hips, under my dress. His thumbs made slow sweeps over my hipbones, and I settled onto him until I felt the hardness of his erection beneath me. His pants and underwear were between us, but the friction of the fabric against my sensitive flesh was a delicious rasp.

At the first rock of my hips, Cole let out a low hiss. “Carrie,” he said, lids fluttering shut. “Fuck.” His hands spasmed, gripping me hard for a moment before softening.

I did it again, propping my hands on his shoulders for leverage. A strand of hair fell against my cheek as I rocked myself against him.

Cole gave me a dark smile, thumbs tracing my hipbone once more. “You look so perfect like this, Carrie.” Bringing one hand out from under my dress, he used his index finger to push one strap of my dress off my shoulder.

I sat up, increasing the pressure of my hips against his. His cock was just beneath me, a hard ridge I wanted to ride. So, as Islipped the other strap off, I rocked my hips and savored the delicious press of his cloth-covered cock against my clit.

When I pulled the neckline of my dress down far enough to expose my breasts, I said, “I’m making a mess of your pants.”

“Good,” Cole replied, his hand sliding over my chest to palm at my breast. With slight pressure from his hand wrapped around my hip, he urged me to lean forward and rock myself against him. Our panted breaths mingled, my swinging, disheveled hair brushing against his face.

It wasn’t like me to be this brazen. Sure, I had fantasies. I’d even gone on a few dates over the years and slept with a few men. But those encounters had been stilted, awkward, and usually unsatisfying. I hadn’t been able to get out of my head.

With Cole, it was different. My head didn’t even exist. Rational thought had disappeared from the moment he’d stepped over the threshold into my room. I was just a body that craved him. I was a collection of wants and needs, at the mercy of my own urges.

And I loved it.

I loved the way he grabbed my hip and guided my movements to be deeper, harder. I loved the feel of his hand on my breast, the way he teased my nipple with his fingers and then soothed the ache with his palm. I loved the euphoric look in his eyes, the joy and the lust and all that attention that belonged only to me.

I loved how hard he was, even though we still had most of our clothes on.

And when I shuddered to orgasm above him, I loved thelow, rasping praise he gave me. He told me how good I looked on top of him. How he’d dreamed of this a thousand times, but the reality was better. How he couldn’t wait to bury himself inside me.

My climax was hot, bright, and intense. My knees clenched against his sides, fingernails curling into his shoulders. I gasped, a short cry falling from my lips as he urged me on. “That’s it,” he said. “God, I missed this. Come for me, Carrie.”

---