Like a Boss Box Set: Like a Boss Series Books 1-4 Page 4

  I delve my tongue into his mouth, tasting him, and he exhales with an aaahhh and slides a hand to the nape of my neck, holding me there so I can’t pull back. He’s trying to take control. Trying to dominate.

  Well, I’m not going to let him do it that easily. I tug his hair until he breaks the kiss with a muffled exclamation, and then I move back up his thighs a few inches. Placing my hands on his shirt, I begin to loosen his tie.

  Sebastian lets me, keeping his gaze fixed on my face. He’s breathing fast, but it’s the only sign he’s turned on—apart from his impressive erection—because he’s amazingly calm considering that inside me is the equivalent of a two-year-old who’s had a bucketful of ice cream for dessert.

  I slide the end of the tie out of the knot and pull it from under his collar. Sebastian lifts his chin and helps me out with the tight button at the top, then leaves me to undo the rest. I take my time to pop them through the holes, enjoying the anticipation, as if it’s Christmas morning, and I’m unwrapping a sparkling parcel that’s been tempting me from under the tree.

  After reaching the bottom, I part the sides of his shirt to reveal his broad chest. I’m not surprised to find tanned skin and firm muscles—no doubt he vacations somewhere hot and expensive—and I fan my hands, brushing my fingers through the fine layer of hair that dusts his ribs.

  Then I draw my nails over his skin, and he sucks in air through his teeth. He’s not unaffected. He’s just remarkably good at not showing how turned on he is.

  Pushing my hands away, he takes the top of my blouse in his fingers and raises an eyebrow. Aw, he’s asking permission. Touched, I nod. He drops his gaze to the blouse, then, in a sharp, sudden move, wrenches the two sides apart, sending buttons flying in all directions. I squeal—the ink might have ruined the blouse but at least I would’ve been able to ride the bus home without being arrested for indecency—and try to push his hands away.

  He just laughs, catches my hands in his, and moves them behind my back. I wriggle, but he has a tight grip, and when he tugs me toward him, I fall against his chest.

  This time, when he kisses me, heat sears between us, and a long moan that I have no control over escapes my lips. Sebastian kisses me fiercely, sliding his tongue against mine, taking rather than asking, and I stop struggling and give in, letting him take what he wants. When I’m limp with passion and longing, he releases my hands, sliding his own around my ribs to my breasts.

  I’m wearing a pretty lace demi-cup in a lemon color that matches my blouse—sans polka dots—and he runs light fingers across the top of my breasts before sliding his warm right hand into the cup. My nipples are soft and relaxed, but when he takes the one between his first finger and thumb and tugs gently, it tightens into a bud, sending pleasurable shocks straight to my clit.

  He spends a while playing with both of them, and I don’t object when he slides the lace beneath my breast, propping it up on display for him, and lowers his mouth to the nipple. His tongue is like a warm, wet sponge washing over the sensitive skin, and I close my eyes and arch my back, pushing the nipple toward his mouth. In response, he closes his mouth over it and sucks, and I moan and feel myself sliding down his thighs again, eager to feel that firm erection against my swollen folds.

  He swaps from one nipple to the other while I rock against him, and soon I’m a molten mass of nerve endings and pleasure, losing all sense of myself. I want him inside me, and when I tuck my hands under his chin and force his head up, I can see my desire reflected in his eyes.

  My skirt is almost at the top of my thighs where I’m straddling him. Sebastian slides his hands up to the top of my thigh highs and rubs his thumbs across the lace, giving a strange little smile, then brushes up even farther. He laughs when he discovers I’m not wearing any panties, and slips his fingers down into me. He gives a sexy groan, which tells me I’m wet and more than ready for him.

  “Condom?” I whisper, the first word I’ve said since I walked into the room.

  He stares into my eyes for a moment, then nods and opens the drawer of his desk. After extracting his wallet, he opens it and takes out a foil packet, and tears off the top.

  I fumble at his belt, not from nerves but from anticipation, and he helps me out, undoing it and then flicking open the button of his pants and sliding down the zipper. I push down the elastic of his boxers and lick my lips as his erection springs out, clearly eager for action. He’s thick and hard, the large head glistening with moisture, and part of me wants to slip off his lap and take him in my mouth. I don’t though. First things first.

  He rolls on the condom, and I move on top of him until the tip just penetrates me.

  There, he stops me by holding my hips. “Are you sure?” he says, his first words since I walked in. His expression is surprisingly tender. I like that he asked.

  I nod and sink down onto him. I take it slow, but I’m so wet that he slides all the way inside in one easy move.

  I gasp, my lips touching his, and we exchange breaths for a long moment. I lift my head a little to look into his eyes. Something in them catches inside me, like snagging a sweater on barbed wire. You’re different. Elen’s words ring in my head. My heart thuds in response.

  Lifting my hands, I slide them back into his hair. I lower my lips to his. Then I start to move.

  Chapter Nine

  Sebastian

  I’m lost in a world of blissful sensation, where all that exists are the lights of the city, the semi-dark quietness of the office, and the woman in my arms. Colette’s skin is soft, her breasts are heavy in my hands, and she’s clamped around me like hot, wet velvet. She begins to rock her hips, forcing me to slide in and out of her, and I lean my head back on the chair and close my eyes, enjoying the sensation.

  “Mmm,” she murmurs, touching her tongue to my lip. When I open my mouth, she delves her tongue inside, kissing me deeply, still moving on top of me. I pluck at one nipple while I move the other hand down and slide it up her silky thigh to her bare butt.

  I can’t believe the way she came in here so boldly. This girl knows what she wants, and she’s not afraid to take it. Some men would find that intimidating. Not me. Her courage, her determination, her sexy confidence, all turn me on… as long as she realizes I’m only letting her take charge for the moment.

  I glance to the side and watch her moving in the reflection on the window. Jesus, that looks hot, with her breasts propped high, the plump nipples begging to be sucked, her blonde braid falling over her shoulder like silken rope.

  She follows my gaze and gasps—I don’t think she’d realized until now that I don’t have blinds in my office.

  “Could someone working in another building see us?” she asks, ceasing the movement of her hips.

  “Probably,” I admit. I certainly don’t want to force her if she’s afraid of being watched, but I have to stifle a groan at the thought of having to withdraw from her now. My blood’s up, and I’m minutes from crossing the point of no return.

  She looks out, thinking, and I study her profile, noting her straight nose, her beautiful pout, her flushed cheeks. I want to fuck this girl senseless, but I make myself wait until she turns her blue-eyed gaze back to me.

  She shrugs. “Hope they’ve got binoculars,” she says, and begins to move again.

  I laugh and wrap my arms around her, loving every minute of this, and kiss her hard, wanting to lose myself in the smell and taste and feel of her. She’s moving, but she’s not fast enough, and I can’t take charge in this position.

  I decide that enough is enough, and I slide a hand beneath her butt and rise easily to my feet with her in my arms.

  “Jesus.” She clings to me, her eyes wide. “Sebastian!”

  I turn and sweep the contents of my desk to one side, then lower her onto her back on top of it. This is a fantasy come true—I’ve never had sex in my office, and the reality is even better than the dream.

  I wonder whether she’ll be nervous at the change of position, but she drops back onto
her elbows, looking at me like the cat that’s licked up the richest cream. She’s all ruffled disorganization, with her skirt bunched up around her waist and her bra hooked under her breasts and her hair all mussed—and she doesn’t care. I love it.

  Leaning over her, I lift her right knee, wrapping her leg high around my waist, and she raises the left one to match it, tilting up her hips. Her eyes are wide, excited. I withdraw until I’m almost out of her, and then I thrust forward, fast, hard, burying myself inside her right up to the hilt. She moans and arches her back, and I drop my mouth to her nipple and suck it until it hardens in my mouth. Swapping to the other one, I do the same, and then I push up onto my hands and start to move for real.

  The office is cool, but Colette’s hot, and I tear the shirt from my back before returning to lean over her again, thrusting all the while. Her head has dropped back, the blonde plait coiling on the desk, but it’s still not how I want her. I take her hands and pull them toward me. Her elbows slide out from under her, and she collapses onto her back. Lifting her hands, I pin them above her head, and now she’s where I want her, stretched out and at my mercy. I begin by giving long, deep thrusts, moving slowly, grinding against her clit with each move of my hips, and her eyelids flutter.

  I continue like that for a while, taking my time, even though I can feel desire rising inside me like steam from a pan of boiling water.

  Colette’s losing it too, her breaths coming in deep gasps, as if she’s having trouble getting enough oxygen. “Oh…” she says in a dazed whisper. “Oh my God, yeah…”

  “You approve?” I ask her with some amusement, still thrusting.

  She blinks and focuses on me, and her lips curve up. “It’s okay,” she says breezily. “What else you got?”

  I laugh and straighten, hold the condom carefully, and pull out of her. Taking her hand, I tug her to her feet, and I grasp her chin as I kiss her, not bothering to hold back anymore, because something tells me this girl is going to be able to take anything I’m willing to give. She moans against my lips, and I tighten my fingers, thrusting my tongue into her mouth. It’s a hungry kiss, and I pour my passion into it, heat surging through me. I want to possess her, to show her how much I need this. And she doesn’t fight me—she lifts onto her tiptoes and molds her soft body against me, and clutches my hair, returning the kiss a hundred percent.

  Nothing’s going to put out this fire inside me tonight, only fucking this girl to oblivion, until I come hard and explode in her, until I cross the line from escalating pleasure to momentous bliss.

  Chapter Ten

  Colette

  Sebastian is kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before, as if his life depended on it, as if he’s trying to make me come just with his lips and tongue and sheer force of will. I’ve been with my share of guys, and they’ve all wanted my body, but it’s like this guy wants more than that, not just my breasts and my soft secret lady parts, but he wants me, all of me, heart and mind and soul, and he’s not going to stop until he gets it.

  I moan again, conscious of a building pressure inside, and an ache between my thighs that grows sweeter when I press them together. I can feel my moisture on my inner thighs, and I desperately want to touch myself and assuage that ache, but I don’t because it belongs to Sebastian, and I want him to have it—as long as he doesn’t take too long.

  When he eventually breaks the kiss, we’re both breathing heavily, and his eyes are dark, the pupils dilated so much they’ve almost consumed the irises.

  “Jesus,” he mutters, “I swear I could come just by kissing you. That’s a first.”

  My heart swells at the thought that I’m affecting him as much as he’s affecting me. I open my mouth to say something, but his hands are on my shoulders and he’s turning me, and the words drift away like confetti on the wind as he pushes me against the desk and nudges my knees apart.

  I brace my hands on the cool desk, liking the way he handles me, gently but firmly. This man knows exactly what he wants, and I love the way he’s taking it. He puts a hand between my shoulders and carefully pushes me onto my elbows, and then he’s sliding his fingers beneath me, guiding the tip of his erection through my swollen folds to my entrance. In position, he puts both hands on my hips and, before I can catch my breath and ready myself, he rams forward.

  “Fuck!” I yell, taken aback at the shocking sensation of being stretched and filled so completely.

  He waits, letting me adjust, and I drop my forehead onto my hands with a groan.

  “Want me to stop?” he asks silkily.

  I pant and concentrate on the feeling of him inside me. If I tighten my internal muscles, I can feel him all the way to the top, so thick and hard, jeez, I have to fight not to come.

  “No,” I squeak.

  He laughs and almost withdraws, then thrusts forward again, and sets up a faster pace than before, until he’s filling the room with the slap of his hips against my butt, and the soft, slightly disgusting but erotic sounds of sex as he plunges into my swollen flesh.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice hoarse, his hands wandering over my thighs, my butt, and under me to cup my breasts.

  I can’t reply because I’ve lost the power of speech, and my orgasm is waiting in the wings for its big moment. Instead, I moan and spread my feet, allowing him full access.

  He takes the hint, grips my hips, and lets go, thrusting hard. It’s every fantasy I’ve ever had rolled into one, better than every other time I’ve had sex put together, and I sprawl on the desk in front of him, conscious that I’m in his hands now, literally.

  This is a mistake, a tiny part of my brain thinks. Because, after this, every other man is going to pale into comparison.

  But I couldn’t stop now even if a meteor had struck the city—all I can do is let him take me gradually closer to the edge with every thrust.

  Then he slips a hand beneath me, sliding down until he finds my clit, and he circles the tip of his finger over it. It sends fire through my body, and it only takes him a few strokes before I come, clenching around him with deep, powerful pulses that have me gasping aloud. I think I’m swearing, but I have no control over what’s coming out of my mouth, the pleasure so intense that, for a moment, I see stars.

  Sebastian slams into me, and then he shudders, stills, and groans as he comes. His fingers are so tight they’re hurting my hips, but I bear the pain because it’s so fucking hot, and I adore this man, I adore everything about him, and I never, ever want to let him go.

  We stay like that for a while. It’s like we’re on a spinning fairground ride that’s reached the peak of its speed, and now we have to wait for it to slow down and stop before we get off.

  The intensity of the moment fades, as I gradually become conscious of my surroundings again. The edge of his desk is digging into my tummy, because he’s heavy on top of me, having lowered to rest his elbows near mine. His lips are on my neck, and he’s kissing me there, soft, sweet kisses that make me tip my head to the side and purr with pleasure.

  “You’re like fucking lava,” he whispers, touching his tongue to my skin and trailing it up to my ear, which he sucks.

  “Larva? A baby caterpillar?”

  “L-a-v-a,” he clarifies, his voice filled with smiles. Straightening, he holds the condom, and carefully withdraws.

  I sigh, feeling empty and somewhat forlorn now it’s all over. I rest my forehead on my hands, trying to get my brain into gear. I should get up and staple my blouse shut, button my jacket over it, thank him for a nice time, and leave. I need to be sassy and professional about this—okay, maybe not professional, nonchalant maybe—and make sure he doesn’t regret it.

  I try to rise, but someone’s removed all my bones, and I don’t have the strength to move.

  Sebastian shifts behind me, and I feel his hands on my skirt, pulling it down. I push up, stuffing my breasts hastily back into the bra cups, but before I can think about finding my jacket and making an exit, he puts an arm aroun
d me, slides the other behind my knees, and lifts me into his arms. He sits on his chair then, pulling me close against him.

  I curl onto his lap, and he rests his cheek on my hair.

  We sit like that for a long, long time. I don’t want to move, and it doesn’t seem as if he does, either. We’re facing the windows, our reflections surrounded by the colored lights of the city. We’re in semi-darkness, so I can’t see his expression, but I suspect it’s tender, because he’s stroking my back, and once or twice he kisses my hair.

  I didn’t expect this. When I came into his office and sat astride him, I was offering sex, and I didn’t expect anything other than—hopefully, if he was as good as I expected—physical gratification. I thought we’d fuck, and then he’d hand me my coat and bag and smack me on the butt as he sent me away.

  I didn’t expect to be… I’m not sure what the word is.

  Loved, comes to mind. But I know that can’t be right.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sebastian

  The next morning, I’m talking to Harry by the photocopier when Colette comes into the office.

  “Morning!” she said brightly, passing us to cross to her desk, and sitting behind it. “How was the curry?”

  “Fucking hot,” Harry says. “Should’ve gone for the Korma like I normally do.”

  “It’ll put hairs on your chest,” I advise him. Harry’s a wuss when it comes to heat—anything hot and he spends all evening complaining and guzzling down water.

  Colette chuckles, gets up, and walks to the coffee machine. I watch her pass me, then follow her over. I stand beside her, hands in my pockets, and watch as she empties the machine.

  “Stop it,” she whispers, replacing the capsule.

  I study the soft skin below her ear, wishing I could press my lips there. “I’m just standing here.”

  “No you’re not.”

  “What am I doing then?”

  “Watching me.”

  “I didn’t know that was against the law.”