Boss: Complete Box Set: A Mob BDSM Romance (6 page)

B
rent doesn’t tell
me where we’re going and I don’t ask. At first, I figured we were headed back to his penthouse suite at the hotel. But the limo leaves the city and takes a winding road lined with trees.

There was a time I might have worried about him taking me into the deep, dark forest, but I’m not afraid now.

After that orgasm, there’s no way I can think of anything else.

That first night, I thought I could maybe die peacefully if he’d given me the pleasure I saw in his body.

Now I know it’s true. He could kill me, and I’d go happy.

Shame is somewhere inside me, but I can’t justify letting it run loose. Letting him get me off like that was a hundred types of wrong. He’s my boss, he has connections with a man who haunts my nightmares, and he is possibly involved in criminal activity. Yet, all of that got pushed behind the sensual way he touched me—the burn of arousal that took me to some subspace where pleasure soaked every inch of my being.

The man gave me one hell of an orgasm, and I want more. It’s that simple. Except, that I’m not sure how I can go back to work and face him each day. The weirdness of it … the obligation. How will that affect my job?

I should have left the restaurant alone, gone home and slept off my lust like a bad hangover. This behavior isn’t normal for me. Looking out the window, I count trees as they fly by and wonder what’s gotten into me. I know how arrangements like this turn out: badly.

But I want him like a drug. I crave him still, and a small voice inside my head says this could lead me down a path that only goes one way. Do I care? I can’t decide.

There is no twelve-step for this.

My heart flips when I consider that maybe … maybe this is how it started for my sister, too ... Rubbing my fingers against my temple, I squash that thought before it can grow, burying it deep.

“Erica.” I turn to his voice. “I want you to know that you have your job, and that has nothing to do with what’s happened between us since we left Georgios.”

Surprisingly, I feel a little reassured by that.

“You’re free to walk away right now with no caveats. You’ll still have your job in the morning and for as long as you continue to do excellent work. You can walk away, or you can choose to stay with me tonight.”

He’s giving me an out, a choice. I have the sense that offering a choice isn’t something he’s done often for people. The look on his face, the tension in his voice—this is a favor. I can tell. I felt his tight control when he was making me come in the coat closet. It took everything he had to hold back from fucking me.

He must be walking a tightrope right now.

“You know what will happen if you come with me tonight.” It wasn’t a question. I nod, because I’m fully aware. So is my body. I’m already buzzing with anticipation of his hands on me.

“I know.”

He turns more toward me, making me very aware of the strength of his body, all open and displayed as he sits with his knees apart. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say that you understand. Tell me exactly what will happen.”

I shift a little too, my knees brushing his before I let them fall slightly apart. “We’re going to have sex?” I hope so. I want so.

His nostrils flare a little, his eyes darkening as I run my palms down my legs. “Tell me out loud that you want to come with me tonight.”

Oh, there are so many ways I could come with him tonight. I’m sure he as an entire arsenal of tricks to make me scream. But first, he wants my verbal consent. Smart man. Oddly, this doesn’t alarm me. So many things about him scare me, but the promise of an orgasm isn’t one.

“I want to go with you tonight. I want to be here, right now. Just like this.” I lick my lower lip because my mouth suddenly feels dry. My boss, my boss that I’m going to fuck. I know this could jeopardize my ability to effectively function at work, but I don’t want to think about it right now.

He watches me a moment longer, then, seemingly satisfied, looks out his window. I stare at him because I can’t pull my eyes away from his outline.

“Lake St. Clair.” Brent leans into me and points out the window. It takes me a second to realize that he thought I was looking at the lake. I wasn’t. An expanse of dark water hosts the reflection of a million stars and the big, full moon.

“It’s beautiful.”

Brent cups the back of my head and leans over me. The tip of his nose brushes mine, sending my body into high alert.

“Agreed.” His lips take mine in a soft, wet kiss. It’s innocent, sweet—confounding compared to the raw passion we’d shared earlier. His mouth trails down my jaw to my throat. Letting my head fall back against the seat, I tug my lower lip between my teeth to hold back a moan. The slide of his fingers along my ribs sends my heart into overdrive, and then his lips are coasting the rise of my breasts, the dip between them … lower. “Pull up your skirt.”

The rough command does something to me that I can’t explain. Without hesitation, I reach for the hem, lift my hips and shimmy the fabric up until my panties are exposed. Warmth from his palms meets the bared skin on my thighs as he pushes them open. Brent moves back on the seat and leans down to kiss my knee. I dig my fingers into his glossy, dark hair. It’s soft, and curls around my fingers as he drops kisses along my inner thigh.

I try to relax, but I’m wound up tight with the pulsing need for him to push into me.

Softly, he runs a finger down my panties as he nuzzles the upper crease of my thigh.

“You smell so good. I can’t wait to taste you.”

I grip big handfuls of his hair, wishing that he would, right now. Suddenly, he grabs my wrists and pulls my hands away. Nipping at my flesh, he bites hard enough to make me gasp. Instinctively, I try to rub the spot with my hand, but he holds me tight.

Softly, he plants a kiss over the sting. Then another. One more, until the soothing heat of his lips takes away the pain and I’m drowning in need more fierce than before. Brent moves my panties to the side, his fingers running the seam of my pussy, lightly … so lightly.

I gasp and clench my lower lip between my teeth. Just as I look down, his head sinks between my thighs, the tip of his tongue tracing where his fingers had just been. He parts me slowly, seeking, gently caressing me with little flicks and strong strokes.

And then his hands are pushing my legs as far apart as they can go, my thighs alight with the sudden pain in my hips. His tongue rubs over my clit with fast, intent strokes, leaving me no time to prepare. The pleasure is sudden and intense, drowning the pain, and completely consumes me.

“So good,” he murmurs as his fingers dig into my thighs. I try and arch up to him, to meet his mouth and draw out the chaotic pleasure. But he holds me tight, restricting me to the seat. Whimpering, I toss my head back as he feasts on me.

Sounds rumble from his throat—animalistic sounds. A low growl, a quick hiss. I’m desperate to rock my hips in time with his strokes, but I can’t. Focusing on the restriction, I realize that the ecstasy is building fast. When he sucks my clit into his mouth, I nearly fall into an orgasm. Gripping his shoulders, I concentrate on the sensation. Until I look down and see him watching me. Our eyes catch and I can’t look away. It’s raw and erotic, and fuck I’m going to come fast.

And then he’s licking me fast and hard, slow and soft, alternating with flat swirls that flood me with feeling. He thrusts his fingers into me, pulling on my clit, soothing it and I fall. My orgasm rips over me, pulsing through me.

I cry out, holding onto him for some sort of grounding while I fly. The dark hunger on his face steals my breath. With easy grace, he pushes back from me while I’m still reeling, and sits properly in his seat, smoothing his tie with a wicked smile.

“We’re here.”

I
right my
skirt with shaking hands as the limo comes to a stop before a stunning brick Colonial-style home. The circular driveway is lined with lampposts and carefully manicured shrubbery. Even though it’s dark and I can’t see everything well, I get the impression of an English country estate.

A butler meets us at the door, and the impression goes hardcore Downton Abbey.

Brent doesn’t pause to make chit-chat with his staff; he takes my hand and hurries me through an enormous entryway, down a hall that offers peeks into beautifully decorated rooms and up three flights of mahogany stairs.

Opening floor-to-ceiling double doors at the end of the hall, Brent ushers me inside and closes the doors behind him. It’s amazing, everything I imagined from gazing at houses like his from the outside for the past innumerable years.

I never thought I’d be inside.

Especially not like this.

Beautifully crafted and completely male, the space is lined in dark paneling, and oriental rugs in shades of red and blue and black. A glittery chandelier hangs down above us, the opposite wall adorned with curve-topped windows. To my right, the room steps up and the bed is the centerpiece.

I eye Brent and find him looking at me with lust-filled eyes. Between here and the bed, all sorts of curated décor and antique-looking furniture lie in the way.

He unbuttons his suit coat and shrugs it off. His white dress shirt has settled into the dip of his abdomen, showing off the rigid cut of muscle there. A thrill goes through me at the anticipation of seeing him undressed. Of seeing him naked, his silken flesh mine to touch, to taste.

“Come here,” he says while working his tie loose. Taking three steps, I stop before him, reaching for the tie. He watches me for a second before dropping his hands. Slowly, I work the knot until it comes free in my fingers. The dip at the base of his throat bounds with his pulse as I move to work the buttons on his shirt.

I only get to three when he grabs my wrists and drives me backward against a loveseat. His palms grip my face as he slams his lips onto mine. Gasping, I sink into the kiss, opening my mouth when he demands it with a push of his tongue. My teeth scrape his as I turn my head to take him more fully. It’s messy and devastating and I need the kiss more than I need air.

His lust is my breath.

My hands cruise his body. Frustrated by his clothing, I claw at his shirt, desperate to feel the hard-soft planes of his body. Brent grabs the front of his shirt and pulls, buttons popping and flying everywhere. His smile is cocky before he dives into another kiss.

I help him strip the shirt off, then his belt. It lands with a metallic clunk on the hardwood floor, the sound a loud contrast to our heavy breathing. Somehow, we spin as his hands cover my breasts and thumb my nipples over my dress. I clench as pleasure bursts through me. Something behind me wobbles, then tips and begins to roll.

Pulling from his kiss, I look behind me and grab a crystal vase just before it can roll off the dainty looking end table. Brent takes the vase from me and tosses it. It shatters on the floor at the front of the table. Open-mouthed, I stare at him.

“That probably costs more than my car.” I try to shift to the side, but he holds me where I am, my ass pressing into the table.

“That’s part of the fun of it.” He slips my dress down my shoulders and I wish it would just disintegrate.

“Breaking expensive things?”

“Breaking them because of the fuckhot sex we’re having.”

Okay, he’s got me there.

I release the ties that hold my dress in place, and he pulls me roughly forward so it can fall down my body. I inhale a sharp breath as the air chills my skin. Brent rakes me with a gaze that warms me.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

I don’t have time to be pleased by his appreciation. He rips my bra off, the straps pulling sharply against my skin before he unhooks it and throws it. In one move he bends me over his arm and pulls my nipple deep into his mouth. Reaching behind me, I palm the table in an attempt to keep my balance.

Moving to my other breast, he nips and pulls until I’m writhing. It takes a second to realize he’s stopped.

“Wh—what?”

He shakes his head and palms my breast. “Nothing … well, I was just thinking of asking you to spend the night—”

“Of course!” I interject. My cheeks heat but I don’t care. “Of course I’ll spend the night.”

After all this, what do I have to be embarrassed about? His expression drops and I worry that he’s having second thoughts. He
is
my boss, and this affair
is
inappropriate.

Like,
really
inappropriate.

He watches as he kneads both breasts in his hands, pinching, testing my limits. “Women don’t spend the night here unless it’s on my terms.”

“Oh,” I breathe, clenching my eyes. “What are your terms?”

“Stop talking.”

Brent takes my hands and puts them on the waist of his pants. I fumble with his button and zipper, and in seconds, his pants are on the floor. I palm his cock through his briefs. The feel of his thick, hot length makes my mouth water. Wiggling his briefs down, I get the first slide of his dick on my palm and it’s fucking amazing.

So smooth … so hard. The thick vein underneath rolls against my touch and I want to feel it on my tongue. Emboldened, I move to lower to my knees, but he stops me.

“Not tonight. I need to fuck you.”

The table wobbles behind me. With a curse, Brent moves me to the old-looking chaise beside the loveseat and presses me against the back of it. Snatching up his pants, he digs a condom from the back pocket.

His lips meet mine, his tongue bruising me, his teeth nipping my lips as he rips the packet open and slides the condom on.

His strong hands lift me to sit on the side of the chaise. It’s the perfect height, lining his cock up perfectly. Grabbing his shoulders, I barely balance myself before he grabs my hips and brings me forward, impaling me on his huge cock with one hard thrust. It’s raw and powerful and I’m stunned by the force of it.

Time goes still, a buzz loud in my head as my brain and body race to connect the explosion of pleasure and pain. Mr. Masters—Brent—slides a hand into the hair at my temple and curls his fingers, pulling my head to the side. He kisses the side of my face and presses his cheek against mine.

“How’s that feel? Did it hurt?” I know he wants the answer I want to give, need to give.

A tingle races along my hairline as my pussy throbs for more. I need him to move, to throw me completely over this damn couch and fuck me until I lose my voice.

“Yes.”

He withdraws, the wetness between his cock and my walls soothing and erotic and desperately infinite.

“You liked it, didn’t you?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, just thrusts again. I cry out as he buries himself deeper than any man has before. His hips are fluid, pumping in and out with calculated force … as if he knows just how much makes me ride the line between ecstasy and agony.

Suddenly, he stops and I realize I never answered him.

Forcing my eyes open, I turn my head for his kiss. “Yes, yes, I liked it.”

My fingernails dig into his shoulders as I wrap my thighs around him and urge him with tilt of my hips. Brent pulls at my earlobe, biting, sucking as he fucks me. It’s fast and hard and fuck, so divine. Deep sounds rumble from his throat, his skin going slick and hot. Running my hands down his rock hard biceps, I trail my nails over his flesh, digging in when his thrusts get insane.

Pressure starts to build deep inside and I’m sure I’m going mad.
This is my boss, I have to stop.

I’m never going to stop.

I cry his name, and suddenly, he pulls free and drops to his knees. Before I register what he’s doing, he’s on his knees, pulling me down, his hands spreading my thighs as he mouths my pussy. His tongue swirls my clit, relentlessly caressing and teasing the nerves until I scream.

I can’t hold it back. Panting, moaning, I grab his hair and hold him to me. He slips a finger inside, then two, fucking me while he licks my clit. My orgasm is just outside the edges, flying in at me from all directions and I’m frantic to reach it.

“Not yet, Erica.” Brent stands and spins me, pulling my ass back toward him. God, yes. “Spread wide.”

I do, and he’s inside me again, thrusting with enough force to rock me into the back of the chaise. My breasts bounce as he dives deep, over and over. The angle allows him to hit my clit a little with each thrust, and I lean back more, seeking … wanting.

“I need it, please!” The begging flies from my lips and I press back more. Just a little more … Brent curls his body over mine, his chest slick and hot against my back. His hand curls around my hip and slides between my legs—fingers playing my clit with teasing strokes and flicks.

Darkness colors the edge of my vision, the swirl in my brain too much. Not enough. The pleasure is so damn intense. It’s controlling me, dominating me and I can’t … I can’t, but I have to.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” I hear myself sob. Brent’s hand clamps over my mouth, his lips gracing the edge of my ear.

“What do you need, baby? You need this cock?”

I can’t reply because of his hand, so I don’t try but I moan. He murmurs in my ear, soft and dirty things that have me whimpering as my orgasm storms through me. I scream against his hand, my body pressing into the couch, my hips straining against his thrusts.

“Fuck, fuck, yes,” Brent cries out, his cock pulsing in long spurts as he comes.

The sound of our collective breathing consumes me, and I lose more time as I collapse against the couch and just
feel
. My synapses are slow to recover, and I find myself in Brent’s arms, lolled against the chaise like two dolls tossed there. His eyes rake over my face, a crooked smile pulls his lips right before he kisses me.

I have no idea how I can be so elated and exhausted at the same time, but I am. He’s worn me out, but one bat of his eyelashes and I’ll be ready for round two.

“This is where I say, “That was amazing,” and you say, “Yeah,” I remind him.

The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Yeah.”

Holding a hand out to me, he helps me upright and I realize what a disaster we’ve made of the room. Our clothing is everywhere, and the unfortunate vase is shattered all over the floor.

“Leave it,” he says after following my gaze. “Come with me.”

Naked, my legs still wobbly, we walk past the master to a door on the right of his bedroom. Curious, I wait as he opens it. From the quick peek I get, it looks like a guest room, but he blocks me from entering.

He looks at me like he’s thinking, deciding, maybe. Then, he swings the door wide and shifts to the side so I can enter. It’s a bedroom, just a bedroom, simple, yet elegant in its design. He moves to the end of the bed where a large wooden trunk sits.

Brent watches me as he lifts the top. My heart flutters and rushes of goosebumps sting my skin. Renewed desire tingles between my legs even as the instinct to back away races down my spine.

Whips. Chains. Handcuffs.

I feel numb.

Floggers. Crops. Vitamin K.

I feel exhilarated.

Cat O’Nine Tails. Collars. Leashes.

I might love him.

“What’s this?” I ask, already knowing.

Brent sweeps his fingers over my cheek. “These are my terms.”