Page 32 of Snowbound in Her Boss's Bed

He teased her, keeping her teetering on the edge of falling, drowning in the pleasure of his mouth and hands on her body, until she was certain she could take it no more.

Pressing into him, her own hands exploring him through the boundaries of his clothing.

Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt and before she could even register what she was doing, she had begun to unbutton it.

His quiet growls and rasps of pleasure encouraged her, goaded her to continue by virtue of her own power. He was as helpless to her in this moment as she was to him.

Around them, both fire and storm roared and crackled, and yet neither matched the unlocked desire pulsing between the two of them.

Locked up for too long, stirred and repressed and restricted for years, she knew why she was overcome, but why was he?

How was it possible that he could seem as powerless as she was to it?

As his arm once again tightened around her waist, drawing their bodies even closer together, the sounds of the fire and the storm and their chopped and heavy breathing swirled around them like a funnel, only furthering the sense of isolation. Just the two of them existed in the center of this remote universe.

Abruptly, Miri understood what people meant, what her fiancé had meant, when he’d said that he had forgotten about every promise he had made in the heat of the moment.

Feeling Benjamin, tasting him, breathing him in...listening to him...

Oh God... She breathed a sound that was half moan, half sigh into him.

Touching him—the many hard and muscular lines of his body highlighted and accentuated by her hands in a way that his perfectly tailored alpine wear could never hope to achieve—she felt like a teenager again.

And at the same time, like so much more.

The years between now and then, the things she had achieved and the knowledge of self she had gained, shored her up, made her confident and bold in going after what she wanted in a way she had never been back then.

Rather than simply drift away in the pleasure he set off with his lips, she rode the waves, leaning into the swells, an active participant in feeling good.

He let her know he approved by growling into their kiss before bodily rearranging their position, moving her until he had her where he wanted—face-to-face, breast to chest, her knees bent astride him, her skirt hiked past hips to accommodate, core pressed to hot core—refusing to release her lips as he did.

Bringing a hand up to grip the back of her skull, he lifted his hips against her and she saw an explosion of stars behind her closed eyelids.

She gasped and he consumed it, managing her with chiseled control even as she felt the shudders coursing through him through the fabric that separated them.

It didn’t matter that they both remained clothed.

She had been naked to him since the moment they’d begun talking.

Since before that, even.

Since he’d told her to do better.

Since he’d seen into her mind through her work and demanded she show him more.

But insightful as he was, she still had depths he’d yet to see, secrets he would have to work much harder for.

She could still do better.

Pressing into him, she wound her hips, slow and deliberate, as much for herself as for him.

She could remind him that he had not had the best of her yet at the same time she drowned in the sensations he elicited in her.

She moaned as he did, his hand tightening in her hair.

Finally, he broke, pulling back for air. Unable to speak, he stared into her wide eyes like he had never kissed a woman before this moment. Like he had had no idea it could feel like this.

A rush of heat flooding her center, Miri could only pant and stare back. She hadn’t known.

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