Fighting for My Billionaire Boss (3 page)

BOOK: Fighting for My Billionaire Boss
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I watch him, enjoying having someone tend to my boo-boos, and not just any someone—my hot-as-hell boss.

He must care for me a little. He didn’t pass me off to one of his employees to look after. He’s cleaning my battle wounds himself.

“Her publicist recorded the confrontation.” He needs to know this. If Gretchen is the attention whore we both believe her to be, she’ll use that footage.

“Fuck.” Brick studies the tissue. It’s stained crimson. His face darkens even more. “If we don’t talk to her, she’ll make this into a spectacle, dragging you, me, and everyone around us into the spotlight. That’s what she does.” He tosses the used tissue into the wastebasket.

“You’re always in the spotlight.”

“I am. You’re not.” He wets another tissue, resuming the cleanup. “I never wanted to pull you into my media-freak-show of a life. Any woman I’m associated with is chased constantly by paparazzi, photographed at the most inconvenient times, asked embarrassing personal questions, everything she says or does or wears gossiped about and criticized.”

I want to be associated with him, would happily trade my privacy to be the woman standing by his side. “How did I get pulled in? Did Gretchen simply pick me at random, working with the tired cliché of the assistant being in love with her boss?”

A cliché that, in my case, is the truth.

“You weren’t a random choice.” Brick drops his gaze, my normally forthright boss suddenly developing an interest in my chin. “Not at all.”

Oh shit. What did he do?

“Gretchen accused me of sleeping with you.” Fucking was her exact word. “Why would she do that?”

He doesn’t say anything.

My trepidation increases.

“Brick, why does Gretchen think we’re having sex?” I need to know this answer.

He disposes of the tissue and moistens another one. “She doesn’t think we’re having sex.”

“Oh.” I lift my eyebrows. “I believe she does. She asked—”

“Gretchen thinks we’re fucking.” His tone is level and calm. “She believes I’m bending you over my desk every afternoon and pounding my cock into your hot, wet pussy again and again, taking you so hard and fast I leave bruises on your upper thighs and red marks on your ass.”

Holy shit. I stare at him.

He dabs at my cuts, his actions casual, as though he expresses erotic thoughts like this to his assistant every damn day.

“Why would she believe that?” I squeak.

“Because that was what I was doing to her when I called your name.”

My eyes grow even wider. “You called my name during sex?”

He discards the tissue. “I was coming, so, technically, I was done.”

“You were inside one of the most beautiful women on the planet and you thought about me as you came?”

Fuck. I can’t wrap my brain around this.

“I always think about you.” His lips twist. “I think about you when I wake up, when I fall asleep, when someone requests tea at a business lunch. Fuck.” He shudders. “I see a scone and get hard as a rock.”

Brick Armitage wants me. I blink once, twice, trying to absorb this.

“But I knew if I touched you I wouldn’t stop touching you and then the paparazzi would go after you.” My boss frames my face with his big hands, his grip on me firm yet gentle. “I wanted to protect you, to keep you safe.” He rubs his thumbs along my jaw, back and forth, back and forth.

My eyelashes flutter, his caresses melting my brain.

“I didn’t do a very good job.” He sighs, his breath wafting over my lips. “I have to talk to Gretchen.”

Gretchen will convince him to take her back. Being beautiful and womanly and everything I’m not, she has that ability. The two of them will end up fucking and I’ll have to wait to make my move.

Fuck waiting.

“You have to do this.” I lean forward and cover his lips with mine.

He doesn’t respond.

I poke and prod the seam of his lips with my tongue, pull on his flesh, put everything I have, all of the passion in my lonely heart, into seducing him. His grip on my face intensifies. He doesn’t kiss me back.

Moments pass. My soul aches. I draw away from him, not hiding my hurt.

“Don’t look at me that way, Lucille.” Brick’s eyes have darkened to the blackest black. “I can’t bear it.”

I gaze at him, unable to speak, feeling like a failure as a woman.

“Fuck. I can’t resist you.” He surges forward, captures my lips. I gasp. My boss plunges inside me, stroking his tongue along mine. He tastes of black coffee and spice and I suck on him, savoring every nuance, every note.

Brick ravishes my mouth with a desperate hunger, as though he wants to put his mark on me forever. I clasp his suit-clad shoulders, as swept away as he is by passion.

“I have to touch you, taste you, make your body mine.” He grazes his lips along my jaw, this contact firm and deliciously warm. “No substitutions, no stand-ins.” Brick explores my face with his mouth and hands, kissing, licking, laving. “I need to have you.”

“Yes, have me.” All of me. I part my legs. He pushes against me, wedging his hips between my thighs, pressing his groin against my panty-covered pussy.

He’s hard, his cock long and thick, restrained by the fabric of his pants, this physical proof of his arousal exciting me.

“Hmmm…” Brick nuzzles against my neck. “Those pale pink panties you flashed everyone are soaked. I feel your wetness, your heat through the fabric.”

I tilt my head back, giving him more skin to tantalize. “I’m wet for you. Always.”

“I knew you would be.” He unbuttons my jacket, revealing my bra. It matches my panties, both brand new, part of my become-a-woman campaign. “You’re a creature of passion, never holding anything back, flinging yourself into every situation with an awe-inspiring enthusiasm.”

“That’s not very ladylike,” I murmur, curling my fingers over his nape.

“It’s sexy as hell.” Brick nibbles along my collarbone. “God. I’m trying to take this slow, but you feel and smell so good.” He lowers his head and presses his face into the valley between my small breasts. His shoulders shake.

This is how much he wants me.

I don’t want to wait, either. Flames of desire lick my body and I’m teetering on the edge of combustion.

“Last night, when you envisioned fucking me, did you take it slow?” I lift my hips and grind against the ridge in his pants.

A rumble rolls up his chest. “No.”

“Then let’s make that fantasy a reality.” I slip off the desk, sliding my body along his. “What was I wearing?”

“Your heels,” his voice deepens.

“And nothing else?”

He nods.

“Okay.” I roll my shoulders. My blazer inches down, down, down, drops to the floor. Brick stares at me, his face dark with need.

This bolsters my confidence. I reach behind me, unzip my skirt, pull it and the petticoats to my ankles.

“Fuck. You’re even hotter than I imagined.” Brick’s fingers twitch. He’s on the edge of the precipice, one touch away from flipping me over, ripping my panties off and ravishing me.

That’s so fuckin’ hot.

I undo my bra, allow the silk to fall. His gaze lowers. My nipples are tight, my breasts aching for his touch. Brick skims his tongue over his bottom lip.

My pussy clenches around nothing.

“You can play with these later.” I cup my breasts and squeeze, this action sending a wave of wanting through me. “You can lick them, suck on them, mark them with your teeth.”

“Lucille.” He leans toward me.

“But not until you blow your wad in my hot, tight pussy.” I hook my fingers in the waistband of my panties. “You’ll come inside me first. Then you can learn every inch of my body with your hands, mouth, cock.”

I slip the silk over my hips, down my thighs, knees, ankles, bending over and then straightening.

“You’re so smooth.” My boss gazes at my cleanly shaven mons.

“I’m soft, too.” I leave my hands by my sides, allowing him to look at me.

Judging by the bulge in his dress pants and the lust in his eyes, he doesn’t see me as one of the guys now. Brick views me as a woman, desirable and beautiful.

“How did you take me in your fantasies?” I turn, a nervous excitement bubbling inside me. My boss will fuck me now. He’ll drive his cock into me, taking me against the desk. “Like this?” I bend over the wooden surface, presenting my ass to him.

“Yes.” He nudges my feet wider apart. “I could see your pink pussy lips, the drops glistening around your hole.”

“Was I as slick as I am now?” I torment him some more.

A zipper rasps. Fabric rustles. “Yes.” The tearing of a package punctuates his reply. “You were dripping for me.”

“Did my pussy juices stream over your balls as you pounded into me?” I wiggle. “Did you smell of me?”

“Yes.” The word is choked. “I won’t last long.” Brick grips my hips, rubs the latex-covered length of him along my folds, wetting his shaft. “I’ve wanted this since that first interview.”

He’d appeared so sexily stern and unrelenting, his lips flat, his face hard, and he’d been thinking of this, fucking me against the desk.

I undulate against the wooden surface. His tip rubs against my clit, pleasure ripples over me, and I moan. “I thought about sucking you off during that first interview,” I confess, my voice husky with need. “I wanted to kneel in front of you, unzip your pants, take you in my mouth and work your cock until you came down my throat.”

“Focus on one fantasy at a time, Miss Henderson.” He prods my entrance with his broad blunt cock head, aligning himself. “You can suck me off later.”

“I—”

Brick pushes inside me and my brain empties of everything except the man behind me, the slide of thick cock in tight pussy, the fullness agonizing and divine and life-changing. I’ll never be the same, not after this.

“Damn. You’re snug.” He presses forward. I grasp the edge of the desk and bite my bottom lip, suppressing my whimpers as he reshapes my body, voyaging deeper and deeper. “You’re made for me, Lucille. Don’t ever doubt that.”

His base flattens my pussy lips. Brick pauses, seated fully in me.

My boss is balls-deep inside me. I ease my white-knuckled grip on the desk. His cock is in my pussy.

He’ll always have this memory, always remember how my wet heat engulfed him.

I should be mortified.

I’m not. I’m damn proud. And extremely aroused. My inner walls constrict around him and he jerks, pulling away from me.

He doesn’t go far, rocking in and out, in and out, allowing me to adjust to him. I match his rhythm. We move together slowly, smoothly, as though we have forever to find release.

We won’t last that long. Passion swirls around us, tightening my chest, licking along my spine. “More.” I push back harder, faster. “I need more, Brick.”

“Lucille.” His clasp on my hips intensifies, his fingertips biting into my skin.

The hint of pain escalates my need. “Fuck me like you did in your fantasies. Redden my ass. Bruise my thighs.”

“Don’t want to hurt you,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Why?” I glare over my shoulder at him. His tie is tightly knotted as usual. He’s wearing his suit and shirt. Only his hips and thighs are bare. “You don’t think I can handle it? Fuck you, Mr. CEO. I can take everything you give me and more.”

“You’re a damn scrapper.” His eyes gleam.

“I’m a fuckin’ lady.” And I’m the woman he wants, the woman he’s inside. “Pound that cock into me before I lose my temper.”

“You—”

I throw myself backward, impaling myself on him. Skin smacks against skin.

“Fuck.” Brick clamps his hands down harder on my hips, stopping any further movement. “You want pounding.” He lowers his body over mine, trapping me against the desk. “You’ll get pounding.” He slides his hands up my back, folds his fingers over my shoulders. “Hang on.”

I don’t take his command seriously. I should have because he goes to town, pistoning in and out of me like a madman, slamming into me again and again.

My normally controlled, sophisticated boss fucks me with a bone-bending intensity, slapping his balls against me, heating my ass and upper thighs. It’s rough and raw and primal, and it thrills me to my core.

“Take it, Lucille.” His voice is gruff. His thrusts shake my body. “Take all of me. You know you can.”

“Yes.” I tilt my hips. My pussy hums from the sensual abuse. “Give me more.”

I want him to fuck me like he’s never fucked another woman, not holding anything back. He huffs and complies, driving deep and hard.

My muscles ache. My breasts sting, my nipples spanking the desk.

And I love it. The man I adore is using me like I’m his personal fuck toy, unloading all of his pent-up passion, all of his desire for me.

I pant. He grunts into my left ear, teasing my skin with his teeth. We’re both past thinking, rutting with animalistic ferocity in his office, while employees work in their cubicles around us.

My pussy constricts more and more around his shaft. I clench my jaw, fighting the need to come, not wanting this encounter to end.

But I can’t hold off. Can’t. Oh shit. Oh shit. I’m—

He swivels his hips, grinding against me, and I break, shattering into pieces. An ear-splitting scream fills the room. It takes me a heartbeat to realize it’s coming from me. Lights and forms spin around me. I squeeze his cock with everything I have.

“Lucille,” Brick roars, pushing even deeper into me. His cock jerks inside me. He thrusts once, twice more, and collapses, flattening me against the desk.

I support his weight without a sound, enjoying the feel of him on top of me. He’s heavy and warm and undeniably male.

“Lucille.” He brushes my hair to the side and mouths over the back of my neck. “That was… That was…” My smooth-talking CEO is at a loss for words.

“As good as your fantasies?” I supply.

“Better.” He nips my skin and I quiver. “And that was only one fantasy. I have more.”

“Am I in any of these other fantasies?” Or will this be a one-time thing?

“You’re in all of them.” Brick rests his cheek against mine. “Every. Single. One.”

I smile.

Chapter Three

“I didn’t know ladies could fuck like that.” Brick levers himself upward.

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