Page 29 of The Boss
“You don’t believe in fate,” shesaid.
“I believe in control,” he shotback.
“And this isn’t control.”
He laughed once, sharp. “No. This is chaos wearing your face.”
Her lips parted, asoft breath catching in her throat. His gaze dropped there, then lower, tracing the line of her legs curled under her, the way the shirt rode up to bare the smooth line of her thighs. Heat licked down his spine. He imagined the shirt sliding higher, imagined his palms closing around her knees and prying them apart until she had no choice but to show him everything.
“Get over here,” hesaid.
Her brows lifted, cautious amusement sparking in her eyes. “You ordering me, Mr. Severin?”
“Yes.” His voice left no room for doubt.
She uncurled slowly, bare legs swinging down, toes brushing the carpet as she crossed the short distance. His gaze tracked every step. She was barefoot, vulnerable, wearing nothing but his shirt and defiance. When she came within reach, he caught her wrist and pulled her down onto the couch with him. His hand covered hers, pressing her palm open until the Brandglowed faintly under both their skin. His thumb brushed the mark, aslow, purposeful stroke that made her breath hitch.
She lifted her gaze, and they were close enough that her hair brushed his bare chest, close enough that the heat of her thighs warmed his. Her mouth hovered a breath away. The almost of a kiss was unbearable.
But instead of surrendering, he went for the truth. “Who were you running from at the Alabaster Club?”
She stiffened instantly. “Leif—”
He tightened his grip on her wrist. “Tell me.”
She resisted, eyes flashing, until the silence grew heavy enough to crush. Then she whispered: “My brother.”
His fury spiked, sharp and immediate. “You used me. You slept with me to hide from him.”
She snapped back, fire in her eyes. “I slept with you because I wanted to. Because I couldn’t not.”
His chest heaved. He ached to call her a liar, but the Brand under his thumb pulsed hot, beating in rhythm with hers. It burned with truth.
“Prove it,” he growled.
For a long heartbeat, she didn’t move. Then, slowly, she slid down off the couch, settling between his knees. His breath caught as her hands moved to his waistband, steady, measured. She looked up once, hazel eyes molten in the dim light. “You think I’m lying?”
His pulse thundered. “Show me.”
Her fingers unfastened him, pushing fabric aside until he was bared, thick and heavy in her hands. He swore under hisbreath, hips tensing as her mouth lowered. Heat closed around him, wet and hot, and his head snapped back against the couch.
“Fuck.”
Leif’s hands clenched in the couch cushions, then in her hair, dark strands slipping through his fingers as she worked him deep. She was slow at first, unhurried, like she was savoring it as much as proving it. Each drag of her mouth stripped away his control. Each swirl of her tongue burned through the last of his restraint.
He looked down, and the sight of her on her knees in his shirt—his shirt hanging open, bare thighs spread, his cock disappearing between her lips—nearly undid him. She wasn’t hiding. She wasn’t running. She was giving herself to him, fierce and unflinching.
The Brand in his palm seared. He pressed it to her head, felt the heat, the pulse, as though the mark itself was alive to the act. His breath came ragged. “Not because of him. Not because of fear. Say it.”
She pulled back just long enough to meet his eyes, her lips wet, voice husky. “Because I wanted you.”
Then she took him deep again, and he lost the thread of speech. His hips jerked, acurse tearing from his throat. He was used to control, used to dictating every pace, every rhythm. But she wrecked him. She drew him to the edge with nothing but her mouth and the unflinching heat of hergaze.
When release hit, it was brutal, tearing through him in waves. He shouted her name, spilling into her mouth as his hand tightened in her hair. She took it all, swallowed it, her eyes locked on his until he sagged back, spent and shaking.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then climbed back up beside him. He caught her face, stared at her like she was both weapon and salvation. His thoughts churned, vicious and tender all at once—how close he was to losing control completely, how much he burned to brand her from the insideout.
He almost kissed her. Almost. Lips brushed, breath mingled, the moment stretched taut. But he pulled back, grinding control into place, fighting the hunger that clawed at him. “Then understand this. You’re mine now. Not because of your brother. Not because of fear. Because the Brand chose. And because you chose me.”
