The Boss Vol. 6

By: Cari Quinn & Taryn Elliott



“It’s not banal. You truly are clueless, aren’t you?”

When she lifted her hands, probably to push me one more time, I grabbed them and laced our fingers together. “The next time you touch me that roughly, your hand better be on my dick.”

Instead of dropping to her knees, she arched an eyebrow. “Maybe you should be the one on your knees, since you were the one with the stalkery crush, Mr. Carson.”

Oh, this woman.

I let her go and had a moment to enjoy the smile of satisfaction that slid across her face before I wiped it away by hauling her off her feet. I turned her toward the counter and swept things out of my way with my arm before I laid her down beside the laptop where our lives were being blown apart. My haste had pushed the computer to the very edge and her eyes widened before I yanked down her sheep pants and reminded her of who was in charge.

On my knees. Fuck that. I could do this just as well standing up.

She wore no panties beneath. Damn tease. She never slept naked like I did, but she went without underwear at unexpected times. Like this one, where her scent was like fresh lavender set to bloom under a heat lamp. Spicy and tangy, I could taste her even before I took the first lick.

Bending my head, I arrowed my tongue along her slit, flattening it over her clit as she tried to wriggle away. I pressed my hand low on her belly and nipped, pleased when she spread her thighs and kicked out, either to nail me once more to loosen her pants. I tugged them down with one hand and used the other to open her up for my mouth, plunging deep in one long stroke. She cried out and speared her fingers into my hair, again making me wonder if she was going to draw me closer or push me away.

She dragged me into her warmth, and I was glad to oblige. I buried my face in her folds, kissing her in a way I’d barely gotten to do tonight with her mouth. Then, she’d ended things too quickly. Now, her thighs were inching farther apart, the pants dangling off her foot as she curled her leg around my back. She arched, nails digging into my scalp, toes scraping along my spine.

Pussy wide open and pink, and so, so wet.

I rubbed her clit with the flat of my thumb, circling, circling. Lapping up everything she gave me and demanding more, burrowing into her sexy flesh until her dampness soaked my chin. I slid my fingers lower and slipped them inside, unwilling to miss even a second of her orgasm.

That was mine too. Just like the rest of her. I might take a long time to decide I wanted something, but once I did, there was no going back.

I didn’t share. I might’ve had siblings in reality, but I’d been raised alone. Classic only child syndrome, and one I would never apologize for.

“Tell me again,” she whispered, rocking her pelvis restlessly against my mouth. I didn’t know what she meant, so I lifted my head in question.

And licked my lips.

She moaned and dropped her head back off the edge of the counter, probably giving herself one hell of a blood rush. “Tell me you’re mine,” she breathed, the words barely audible over the throbbing need that had my cock surging against my zipper.

Even in the midst of my own sexual turmoil, I frowned. “I never—” She raised her head and gazed challengingly into my eyes, and somehow I said something I’d never planned to say.

To even think. In my world, belonging was a one-way street.

Not in hers. And if I wanted her to come—and holy Christ, I did—I’d get her there in whatever method she required.

One more truth in the center of a million lies and misdirections.

“I’m yours,” I said against her flesh, absorbing her shudder as if the energy pouring off of her powered my own heart. I flicked her stiff clit, wanting nothing more than to watch her go off before me. She was so unconsciously beautiful, so unstudied in her reactions. “Now show me you’re mine. That you’ve always been mine, even before you knew.”

A long, slow lick and she combusted beneath me, her hands fisting in my hair as she bowed off the counter. I hated that I hadn’t stripped her of her top, simply so I could watch her perfect tits bounce while she lost herself.

All I wanted was to be in that same place, lost with her. Hopelessly. Inexorably.

She sat up and grabbed my face, dragging it up to hers. Her mouth was on mine before I’d caught my breath, and definitely before she’d had a chance to catch hers. She wound her legs around my waist and pressed her soaked core against the front of my pants, taunting me with all the wetness I could have if I just ditched the pants.

And found a condom. Jesus, I couldn’t forget that part, though it was getting harder and harder to remember when we were intimate. In the crazy thrum of passion, it was hard to remember the life preserver. That little piece of latex that turned everything from a madcap moment to a life-changing decision.

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