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Bossy(152)

By:Kim Linwood

“You know, I think I might just be falling a little bit in love with you.” He looks almost as surprised by his words as I am, but he doesn’t take them back. His eyes bore into mine, like he’s looking right into my soul. He’s reading me like one of my books, and I don’t even have to say anything. I can see that he knows.

Gavin pushes into me and my pent up breath rushes out in a long sigh. I’m so close that when he fills me, I shudder with the need to release, and when he leans in and takes my nipple in his mouth, I lose it. I come around him, clenching his thick cock, my toes curling and my back arching, pressing my breast eagerly towards him for more.

His big hands wrap around my waist, holding me in place as he fucks me, first with long, languid strokes, but then harder and harder until he’s pounding me into the smooth leather chair. I grab onto him, my nails digging into his back and pulling him closer. Shaking with what feels like a storm of tiny orgasms in the wake of the big one, all I can do is cling to him and ride it out while I scream his name.

He fills me again and again, until he groans deeply and pushes all the way in. He swells, pulsing thickly while I hold him close. Long moments pass before we both relax, him gripping the chair for support and me slumping into it with a contented sigh.

We stare at each other, drenched in sweat and breathing like we’ve both run marathons. He’s got a ridiculous grin on his face, and I’m sure mine’s no better. I haven’t felt this happy in a long time, and I want this moment to last forever.

It can’t, of course, and I make sure to voice my protest when he pulls out. His cocky smile says it all. I’d be more disappointed, but I doubt it will be long before he’s right back where I want him. Then he looks around the room. I follow his gaze and laugh. Our clothes are everywhere, like a dresser exploded.

“I suppose we should clean up.” Gavin chuckles while beginning to pick up. “I really like reading with you, though. Is it always that good?”

“Sometimes better.” I curl up in the chair and watch him. “Some of the stories are really steamy.”

He stops to arch an eyebrow at me. “We should definitely do some more reading, then. Now I’m curious. Up in your room?”

“Our room. Or are you planning on going back to yours?” I hope not. It’s a big bed, and I’ve missed sleeping with him almost as much as I’ve missed the parts that didn’t involve any sleep at all.

I admire the rippling of his back while he’s pulling on his pants. The tattoos dance across his skin with his movements. It’s hard to believe that all that is mine. I’m feeling possessive, and something tells me I’m going to be exploring and claiming every inch of that skin before the end of the cruise.

But first things first, where are my clothes?

My top I find shoved into the chair, and my dress was hanging off the table, but my bottoms are nowhere to be found. Gavin smacks my ass while I’m crouched over to look under things.

“Hey!”

He laughs. “Leave it. It’ll make someone’s library trip a little more interesting.”

“I only packed one suit!”

“So I’ll buy you new ones. Or better yet, keep you naked the rest of the trip.”

I try to look scandalized, but I’m too happy to pull it off and he just reaches a hand up my dress to cup a bare cheek.

“Now let’s get out of here so we can go take this shit back off.”

Well, with an offer like that...





Chapter 37: Angie


I curl away from the light peeking through our curtains, rolling right into Gavin’s arms. His eyes are still closed, his breath even. I love watching him sleep, how his broad chest rises and falls and how his face relaxes. It’s like seeing the real him, something he doesn’t show very often, but that I’m not quite a stranger with anymore.

Running my fingers across his chest, I trace the lines and curves. Even with several days’ opportunity to explore every inch of his body, I’m not tired of it. I don’t think I’ll ever be. I circle a nipple, and he starts to stir, at least a little bit. He looks at me through hooded eyes and smiles.

I roll onto him, straddling him so I can kiss him, and almost regret it. “Ugh. Morning breath.”

He laughs, waking quickly. “Right back atcha, babe.”

It’s funny how him calling me that doesn’t bother me anymore. Guess it’s all about who’s saying it, and how. It used to sound condescending, but now it’s different, softer. When I hear him say “babe”, I also hear him whisper he loves me after he thinks I’m asleep.

I kiss him again. We can be gross together. If that’s not love, what is?