Page 112 of Sexting the Boss

I close my eyes for a second, letting the taste of him seep in. When I open them, he’s studying my face, brow furrowing slightly.

“You okay?” he asks softly.

I give a shaky laugh. “I’m…yeah. I’m okay.” In truth, I’m still reeling from everything, but for once it’s a good kind of dizzy.

Damien tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering at my jaw. Then he shifts closer, wrapping an arm around my waist, and pulls me gently against his chest.

His mouth moves against mine, slow at first—just the soft press of lips, exploring, testing—but it deepens almost immediately. I gasp, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer. His quiet groan vibrates through me, sending warmth racing down my spine.

Our breathing quickens. When my hand trails down his back, he arches into me, a soft hiss escaping him. He’s as affected by me as I am by him.

In one fluid motion, he shifts us so I’m half on top of him, our legs tangling. The sheets slip, baring my body to his roaming hands. His lips break from mine only to travel along my jaw, down the column of my throat, before finding my mouth again like he can’t stand the distance.

I’m dizzy with arousal, clinging to his shoulders, pressing my chest to his. My skin tingles where he touches me, like sparks dancing across every nerve.

He moves me again until I’m on my back, and he leans over me, gaze heated. His palm slides beneath my thigh, lifting it around his hip. I open for him eagerly, my breath catching when he presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to my breast.

Before I can fully register what’s happening, he scoops an arm under my waist, guiding me into a roll. A startled laugh escapes me, but it quickly dissolves into a needy whimper when I realize his intent.

He flips us in a smooth, almost effortless motion, reversing our positions so I end up facing his lower body while he’s angled toward mine.

My pulse kicks into high gear.

This is new, and God, it feels so intimate.

He tugs my hips gently toward his mouth, and I settle above him, heart pounding as I take him into my hand.

I glance down—Damien’s huge, pulsing cock is hard and thick in my grip—and I feel his breath catch against my skin when I lower my mouth over him. He lets out a ragged groan, his hips shifting reflexively. Every low, throaty noise he makes sends a jolt of heat straight through me.

But I barely have time to process it because he’s already guiding my body closer, his wide palms pressing into my thighs. When his lips part against my clit, I gasp around his cock, pleasure stealing my breath.

The sensations double—my mouth on him, his mouth on me—turning into a heady loop of want. Our bodies quickly grow slick with sweat and need.

I feel every slide of his tongue, every flick and soft suck that sends tremors through my legs. And in return, I stroke him slowly, savoring the taste of him, drawing quiet curses from his mouth.

“God, Sasha…” His words are muffled against my pussy, but I can feel the vibration of them, half groan, half reverence.

My pulse pounds as he pushes two fingers inside, alternating with his wicked tongue.

He knows exactly what he’s doing.

My free hand grips his hip, nails biting lightly into his skin as I struggle to keep focus on pleasuring him in return. He sucks gently on my clit, and a spark of electricity shoots through me. My rhythm falters, a stuttering whimper muffled against his length.

Everything feels too good, too much, like every inch of my skin is alive with fire.

The orgasm crashes over me in a blinding wave, my back arching, my mouth falling open, losing him for a moment as I cry out against his thigh. My whole body clenches, the sensation rolling through me in pulsing waves.

Dimly, I sense him pushing deeper into the moment, riding out my release with practiced focus—then his breath hitches, and he tenses beneath me. There’s a raw, guttural sound in his throat as I tighten my mouth over him, wanting to share that peak.

His hips jerk, and he groans out a ragged version of my name, shuddering hard. I continue to stroke him, and when I know he’s close, I put my tongue over his sensitive tip, letting myself taste his hot spurt. The rest of it spills into my hand.

My pussy throbs.

This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done or seen.

The aftershocks leave us both strung out and gasping for air, and we collapse in a tangled heap. I shift off him, rolling to the side, still breathing hard, my skin flushed with sweat.

For a second, neither of us speaks.

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