Seduced By The Boss. Natalie Anderson

she wanted all of him inside her when she had the release. She wanted it to be the best she’d ever had—she could almost taste it. ‘I want it all.’ All at once. Immediately. She was reduced to basic instinct now—to demand his possession.

      He laughed. ‘You’ll have me. Again and again. I promise. Why not just enjoy this moment?’

      She was going to go insane, that was why. The volcano inside her threatened to erupt. He moved—but not how she’d wanted—not to pull her to the floor so he could thrust into her in the way she was so desperate for.

      No. It was only a slight change in hold but it was enough to bring her firmly under his control. He spread one hand wide on the inside of her thigh, placed his other much higher, cupping her breast, his fingers caressing her painfully taut nipple. But she could no longer move, her body bound by his, utterly enthralled by the simplest of touches: he licked her.

      She gasped as his tongue swirled, tasting, teasing her most intimate, most sensitive part.

      And it killed her.

      She pushed back against the hard chair, unashamedly thrusting her pelvis into him. The waves of pleasure lapping at her, as he lapped her. Oh he knew what to do, how she wanted him to do it. The waves rose higher, starting to wash over her—every muscle tensed, tingled.

      ‘Don’t stop, please don’t stop,’ she begged him, shaking as she felt it surging. She wanted it, but she wanted more. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, with her heart, with the heat burning her inside out. In the end she reached out and drove them into his hair. Thick and vibrant beneath her fingertips, the texture rough and all male. Her head hit the back of the chair as she arched higher to meet his kiss—tension locking her body in an endless moment of stillness. His hand went from her thigh to support her beneath—holding her to his hungry mouth so he could go deeper, suck and stroke harder. And he didn’t stop. The slow, rhythmic, divine touches intensified. Her fingers curled into claws as she shook, her cry high and harsh. And as she buckled he still didn’t stop, not giving her any respite, forcing every last ripple of response from her—until neither her body nor mind could take any more and the world went black.

      Sophy was no longer a sentient being. She couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even open her eyes. His hands traced over her. Gentle kisses followed their path. It was as if he was worshipping her skin, her scent, her sex.

      Her pulse slowed, steadied and then started to leisurely rise again as she heard him murmuring her name. She opened her eyes then. He lifted his head from her skin, met her gaze, his smile almost boyish with pleasure. He knew, he knew just how well he’d thrilled her and how ready she was for him to do it again. Like now.

      ‘You still want it all?’

      ‘More than ever,’ she answered honestly.

      His smile faded as his hand cupped her jaw. ‘You humble me.’

      He twisted away, grabbed a few of the condoms. Once on his feet he lifted her into his arms and walked, instinctively stopping at the door to the master bedroom.

      ‘Not that one.’ She was in the smaller of the two rooms.

      He placed her in the middle of her bed. Stood back and whipped his tee shirt from his head. ‘I think you’d better take off your bra and skirt.’

      She was too busy enjoying watching him strip to bother with that. He took a moment with his jeans, taking care with the zip.

      When finally, jaw-droppingly naked, he ripped open a little pack and rolled the condom over his erection, his teeth clenched for the few seconds it took.

      Then he looked up at her. Frowned. ‘Bra and skirt Sophy? I’ll lose it if I do it.’

      Maybe she wanted him to lose it.

      ‘If you want me inside you then you have to do it.’

      She smiled, thrilled to see him so tense. But she knelt up on the bed and twisted her arms behind her back to undo her bra clasp.

      He stood at the foot of her bed, looking like some ancient Greek athlete—no, some ancient Greek god.

      And the look on his face made her feel like a goddess. She stood on the bed then, unzipped her skirt, and with a shimmy of her hips let it fall.

      He stood stiller than a statue.

      Legs apart, she put her hands on her hips, filled with a new confidence—just from the way he was watching her. ‘What are you waiting for?’

      He answered slowly, through clenched teeth. ‘Some degree of control.’

      She dropped to her knees and crawled to the end of the bed. Straightened up and put her hand on his chest—watching it rise and fall. Then she looked up into his searing black gaze.

      His fingers tangled in her hair, twisting in her curls, and he pulled. She didn’t resist, let her head fall back so her mouth was his to plunder. And he did.

      But then she ran both hands through his hair, holding him to her as she let herself fall back onto the mattress. As she intended, he overbalanced and came down hard on top of her.

      ‘Sophy,’ he grunted, automatically bracing a hand on either side of her, lifting his weight off her. ‘You okay?’

      She hooked her legs around him, arched up to stop him moving too far away. ‘No. I’m tired of waiting for you.’

      ‘I can’t wait any more.’

      She smiled and rippled beneath him. ‘Good.’

      He stayed braced above her for a long moment, gazing into her eyes. She lifted her hips, trying to hurry him. He just smiled—that heart-meltingly brilliant smile. Then he lowered his weight half onto her again. Her heartbeat rocketed. Anticipation made breathing difficult. At last he moved, a smooth powerful stroke forward, filling her in the one hit.

      She gasped, expelled an even harsher breath as she shook.

      ‘You okay?’ He moved again.

      ‘Yes,’ she panted. ‘Yes. Yes. Yes.’ But her breathing pitched wildly, the blackness threatening again as she gasped, struggling to cope with the blissful sensations. Too much, it was too much.

      ‘Easy honey.’ He pressed into her once more—slow, deliberate—and held there until she steadied. The weight of him and his careful hold anchored her, but his power had the potential to pull her apart. After a wavering moment, she began to breathe more deeply, softening, increasingly able to handle the intensity.

      He kissed her, a soothing kiss. ‘Stay with me,’ he muttered.

      She nodded, feeling his slow rhythm begin again, and she started to move with him this time. She ran her hands over his back, feeling the strength he had to offer her. She smiled as she felt it surge beneath her fingers. In her most secret fantasies she’d never imagined it would be like this.

      ‘Yeah.’ He kissed her properly then.

      She took his face in her hands and kissed him back—as deeply as she possibly could. As the feelings ratcheted she felt him grow more tense. Until he wrenched his mouth from hers and bored a burning look into her, the smile gone, his breathing ragged and uneven now.

      He rose higher above her, working them both harder, until she started to lose it again. Then he kissed her jaw, her ears, her brow, her neck, while his hips moved in that maddening, magical way. All at once the sensations rushed at her from every direction. She was half panting, half crying, mostly screaming. And just like that, too soon, not soon enough, she shattered. Her body convulsed in ecstasy, clamping hard—forcing utter capitulation from him too.

      The tips of his fingers touched her damp skin. ‘So you do sweat.’

      ‘Contrary to popular opinion, I am actually human,’ she answered with her eyes closed.

      ‘And do you like it when I make you sweat?’

      She