Page 2 of Deadly Obsession
I’m ready to Hoover this man and let his cum pour down my throat, but he releases my hair and steps away, taking his hard cock with him.
I might have whined a little.
He walks to a black leather couch on the other side of the room and sits down.
“Come here, Reine.”
Reine.
He said it again.
Now that my brain’s not jumbled from getting fucked, I’m pretty sure the word is French. I took French classes in high school, but I don’t remember shit because I’m about to turn thirty-three, and high school was a long freaking time ago.
I dismount the desk, adjusting my dress to cover my bare ass and wonder where my panties went as I cross the floor of the office—which might be bigger than my studio apartment.
I stand in front of him.
I can’t imagine how unhinged I look. He’d been tugging on my hair. It’s surely a blonde bird’s nest on top my head. My lipstick is certainly smeared to match my streaked mascara. Red splotches decorate my body either from his mouth sucking my skin, or his hands leaving beautiful marks.
But whatever this man sees, his eyes light up with desire.
“Undress.”
Fuck he’s bossy.
Boss.
I can’t stand it.
Then why did your cunt just flutter at the order?
He combs his hand through his sweaty midnight hair. It’s short on the side and longer on top, and aside from the strand that fell across his forehead just now, most of it stays slicked back.
He really is a gorgeous man.
He’s wearing a suit, or hewaswearing a suit. The jacket is tossed on a chair at his desk. His black dress shirt is partially unbuttoned and open, revealing a tattooed chest and soft stomach. His cock stands straight up through his unzipped pants.
He’s a big guy with a belly that jiggles, and he towers over my five-foot-eight frame.
“You first,” I say with a smirk.
He raises a brow as if no one has ever challenged him before.
Maybe no one has.
I also find myself having a hard time saying no to him.
Despite being intimidating, I don’t break eye contact with him because I’m determined to get what I want.
And that’s for him to be naked too.
We didn’t have time to fully undress before his mouth and hands were all over me.
It all started with me on the dance floor, moving my hips to a song I can’t remember, but I was feeling myself, so my hands sensually scrubbed over my body. My eyes closed as I swayed to the beat. Then a creep came up behind me, wrapped his arm around my waist, and cupped my pussy through my dress.
I didn’t hesitate to swivel around and punch the asshole square in the nose.
Turns out, the owner of Underground Park Slope doesn’t tolerate violence in his club, and security escorted the handsy man out a side door that I assumed was an exit. I was then brought up to Boss’s office.
