Page 110 of Sexting the Boss

The wicked mouth, the bold way she teased me…it all masked her innocence.

“Are you—” My voice comes out rough, unsteady. “Are you okay?”

She inhales, nods once, her cheeks flushed. Her legs tighten around my hips, urging me forward. There’s a tremor in her body, and I can’t tell if it’s fear or excitement—or both.

I cup her face, brushing a thumb across her cheekbone. “We can stop,” I say, forcing each word out even though it nearly kills me to offer.

She swallows hard, her throat working. Then she huffs a tiny laugh, sounding breathless and nervous and incredibly brave. “Damien…” she murmurs, sliding her hand to my arm. “I want this. I want you.”

The sincerity in her tone pierces through my haze of lust. Heart pounding, I exhale slowly, pressing a tender kiss to her parted lips.

“Then hold on,” I whisper.

She sucks in a breath as I push deeper, inch by inch, until I’m fully seated inside her. My vision nearly goes white at the pressure, her walls gripping me so tightly it’s almost too much.

Her nails bite into my shoulders, and I pause, letting her adjust, letting myself adjust, every muscle in my body coiled like a spring.

Damn. It’s never been like this.

This intense, this close to tipping over the edge from the very start.

I open my eyes to find hers locked on my face, wide with wonder, lips trembling in a small, breathless “o.”

I stroke her hair, my chest twisting at how new this is for her—and for me, in a whole different way. “Sasha,” I manage, voice thick, “tell me if it’s too much.”

She blinks, her expression flickering with something that looks like disbelief, then nods quickly. “Okay,” she whispers, hooking her ankles more securely around my waist.

So I hold still, just for a moment, savoring the sensation of being buried inside her, feeling her heartbeat against my chest.

I start slowly at first, giving her time to adjust to the feel of me inside her. Her nails dig into my shoulders, her head tipping back as she exhales in soft, unsteady moans. Each sound hits me like a pulse of adrenaline, pushing me dangerously close to the edge.

“Sasha,” I murmur, voice trembling with restraint. “Tell me if?—”

She just shakes her head, hooking her legs around my hips, pulling me closer. “Please,” she whispers, voice breaking on the last syllable. “I’m okay. I promise.”

I swallow hard, nodding once. Then I thrust a little deeper, and she whimpers, clutching at my arms. There’s a flash of something wild in her eyes, need coiling in every breath she takes.

I pick up a rhythm, each roll of my hips drawing a gasp from her lips.

I take my sweet time fucking her.

I can feel how close she is—her breathing comes in broken pants, her thighs trembling around my waist. With my free hand, I reach down between our bodies, finding the soft, slick heat at her center, my thumb sliding against her sensitive clit.

She cries out, eyes squeezing shut, her entire frame going taut. I keep applying pressure, circling slowly, then quicker, matching the pace of my thrusts until her head tips back and her lips part in a soundless plea.

She shatters around me, body clenching so hard I almost lose it right there.

My name rips from her mouth, a broken, desperate sound that sends fire through my veins. I ride out her orgasm, feeling every tremor as it pulses through her.

My own release surges in response.

My vision blurs for a moment, and with a rough groan, I let the last of my control snap. I drive deeper, chasing that razor-thin edge until it takes me under.

My head falls back, eyes shutting as I spill inside her in a wave of white-hot ecstasy. The world seems to tilt, and for a heartbeat, I forget everything but her—her warmth, her breathy moans, the way her cunt milks every pulse from me.

When I finally manage to pry my eyes open, Sasha is gazing up at me, dazed and sated, cheeks burning pink. The sight of her—lips parted, hair spread over my pillows—hits me like a fist to the chest.

Breathing hard, I lower my forehead to hers, tangling my fingers in her hair.

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