Grumpy Boss by Hamel, B. (best non fiction books to read TXT) 📗

experienced something like this before. It was illicit, kissing her here, touching her, taking off her clothes, undressing her slowly, right on Modesto’s porch. If we got caught, my career could be over. Modesto would destroy me, and he wouldn’t even hesitate. He’d see this as a challenge to him, a direct insult, even if he had anything to do with it.

And somehow, that made it better. Every kiss, every caress, it made me realize that she was worth risking something for. I’d spent so long building my career, making my empire, and growing my business—and I had nothing to show for it but things and money.

I wanted something more. I wanted Millie.

I pulled her hair and made her gasp as my tongue found her hard, pink nipple. Her breasts were supple and firm and drove me wild. She moaned as I kiss her throat and pulled her hard against me.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” she whispered in my ear as I kissed her neck. “Modesto— he’d kill us.”

“Good,” I said. “If you want to stop, we can stop. But I’m tired of stopping.”

“Me too,” she said, and kissed me again.

It was what I needed. She stood, stripped off her yoga pants like a goddess. I pulled her to me, still standing, and kissed her black panties, smelling her, sweet and bitter and delicious. I kissed her stomach, then pulled them down, and kissed her soft, wet spot, her clit, her lips, licking her, spreading her legs. She moaned, then dropped to her knees as I took off my shirt, and he pulled down my sweats. My cock strained against my boxer briefs and she stroked me, kissing my lips before taking me into her mouth, deep into her throat.

I growled delight as she sucked me, slowly then faster, and my blood coursed through my veins, and I knew that I’d do anything for her—right now, in this moment, I knew I’d take any risk and go to any length to have her. I’d turn Modesto down, I’d blow up my whole business— so long as I kept her.

She pulled back with a gasp and I kissed her, then pulled her on top of me again. Her back arched and I felt her then, slick and warm, and I slid deep into her. She let out the most gorgeous, sexy, adorable sight and moan as I filled her deep, and she held herself there, with me inside of her, finally inside of her, and we kissed, biting her lip, tongues rolling, her taste and smell all around me.

Then she began to move, writhing her hips, riding me up and down, slick and incredible. I held her ass, spread her wide, pulled her hair. She moaned, maybe too loud, but it didn’t matter. Let the house wake up. Let us get caught. I fucked her, took her, let her ride then pulled back and turned her. I pinned her back to the chair, spread her legs, and took her.

The world ceased. There was on the contact between her slick spot and my hard cock, sliding, fucking, taking. She moaned in my ear, warm and gorgeous, whispering my name. I whispered hers back, like a spell, like a chant. I licked sweat from her nipples and took her faster, faster, fucking her deep and right, grinding our bodies together until there was only pleasure.

“Every day, when you come into my office, I think about this,” I whispered in her ear, admitting to the dirty, filthy fantasies I’d been having about her. “I picture fucking you over my desk. I picture you sucking my cock in those sexy little skirt suits you wear. Fuck you don’t know how insane you make me. I’m half hard sitting at my desk watching you read financial reports and thinking about those lips wrapped around my shaft.”

“You know what’s messed up?” she moaned, then looked into my eyes. “I think about the same thing.”

I took her faster, and we hit a stride, fell into a rhythm. It was then that words failed, and there was only the language of skin and moans, of pants and gasps and breaths, and we kept moving, faster, heading toward something together, both of us yearning for that thing we’d needed for so long, the thing that would complete us, each of us individually, but also each of us together.

I felt her clamp down and her back arched. She moaned and I covered her mouth in a fit of panic and passion, and she bit down on my fingers. I growled and fucked her harder, taking her as mine, my Millie, and she came with my mouth covering her lips, came in wild fits, came with her whole body, came with her pussy soaked and clenched around my shaft, and I couldn’t take it, couldn’t take the way her breasts shook, couldn’t handle her hard nipples, the small beauty mark on her right chest, the scar near her collar bone, the small marks of her history, each of them telling their own sort of story, and I wanted to read them all, wanted to know them all, as I let out a gasp, and a growl, and came inside of her, deep between her legs.

We finished in a panting, sweating mess, and lay there on the lounger on the porch of a very religious man who would kill us if he knew we’d just fucked anywhere near his house.

“Did you mean it when you said you’ve been fantasizing about me?” she asked, sounding almost naive.

I laughed and kissed her shoulder. “Absolutely,” I said. “Did you?”

“Yes.” I wished I could see her face. I knew she’d be blushing. “But I don’t usually admit to that sort of thing.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good.” She turned to face me. “What do we do now?”

“Well, we can stay here for a while,” I said, holding her against me, enjoying the feel of her skin, warm and soft against mine. “And then in the morning, we’ll try and convince Modesto