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Bossy(58)

By:Kim Linwood


“Oh, fuck yeah.” He lets it out like he’s been holding his breath.

Wrapping my fingers around him, I slide my fist slowly up and down, feeling his pulse beat against my palm. His breath comes faster as he watches me lean forward, sticking out my tongue.

Barely, just barely, I touch the tip to the ridge where the crown meets the shaft, running it along the sensitive edge. His sharp intake of breath tells me I’m on the right track.

It’s strange. This might be the first time where I’ve felt that I’m the one in control and he’s at my mercy. Looking up, I find his eyes lightning focused on my every move. I smile, and run my tongue a full circle around him. He rewards me with a throaty groan. I want to drive him crazy. To bring him so close he loses control. I wonder if he’ll let me.

I palm his balls with my other hand, giving a teasing squeeze, not hard, but enough that he tenses up. I laugh softly, stroking carefully, loving the soft texture in one hand and the hard in the other.

Kissing softly, I make my way up to the very tip, lapping up the clear drop that’s just come out. A little salty, a little musky, and all him. I swirl my tongue around one last time before I take the head between my lips. Pushing, I sink onto him until he presses against the back of my mouth.

Declan moans and loses focus for a moment, his ass pressing against the wall before he remembers he has to watch out if he doesn’t want to end up well and truly painted. God, I love this. Forcing him to balance between control, and completely letting go.

He tries to push deep, but I’m running the show, and I tease him, stroking his shaft with my hand and sucking on the head like a lollypop. It’s sloppy and noisy, but the way I feel him swelling and from his raspy breath, he must love the show, because he sounds like he’s getting close.

His hands slide into my hair, pulling my ponytail apart and making fists, gripping me possessively. He lets me do what I want for now, but it’s a potent reminder that I’m only in charge for as long as he lets me. It just makes me love it more, that this brash and bossy man can step back and hand over the reins.

The gentle thrust of his hips turns harder, more insistent, and his grip tightens. He moans as I move faster, trying to match his pace, wanting to feel and taste him come.

Suddenly, he holds my head in place and I relinquish control as he lets out a throaty groan and fills my mouth with his essence. I take it all, swallowing greedily. He groans and pulses over and over, while I keep stroking until he relaxes his grip. Easing back on my haunches, I look up at him, grinning in both satisfaction, and amusement at the mess we’ve made of each other.

He looks at me, expression relaxed and almost tender. “Remind me to paint with you more often.”

I turn my head and rest it against his thigh, hiding my blush. “I suppose we should get back to work now.”

He chuckles. “Oh, no fucking way. You don’t think I want my turn?" He grabs my arms and pulls me to my feet.

“You just had your turn.” I laugh and step away, practically daring him to chase after me. “And there’s so much left to do.”

“Damn straight there is.” Declan pushes me into his leather desk chair. “Like making you scream so loud the ceiling comes down.” He kneels and grabs my panties, tugging them down my hips and off my legs.

“Declan!” My voice is a harsh whisper. “There are tons of people out there!” I laugh and try to get back up. “I’m going to ruin your chair.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” Gripping the backs of my thighs just above my knees, he pushes me open until he can hook my legs over the arms of the chair. “Besides, you apparently didn’t notice that I locked the door.” He grins while he slides his hands slowly up the insides of my thighs and leans forward. “It’s a little late for caution, don’t you think?”

“I know, but—” Any argument I have is forgotten when he kisses me right on my mound, then slides his tongue briefly between my folds.

Oh God.

I desperately try to gather my thoughts while he scatters them to the wind with his hungry mouth. It’s a tug-of-war I’m destined to lose, and when I do, it feels like winning.

He must sense me relax and give myself over to the sensations. “That’s my girl,” he says before flicking me right over my throbbing clit.

I’m not so far gone that hearing him call me his girl doesn’t give me a twinge of both pleasure and pain. I’m not, not really, but for right now I’m willing to pretend. “Shut up and lick me.”

Declan laughs, wasting no time. His tongue is broad and thick as it stabs into my wet core with eager strokes. My thighs quiver in his hands, muscles tightening while he sends me higher and higher.