Page 40 of Big & Bossy

She nodded, one hand coming to rest on my cheek. She gently turned my head, forcing me to look at her, and damn I wished I knew how to read minds. Her face was unreadable, her eyes glassy. She was too beautiful, too good for me but I needed her. I would always need her.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I pressed my lips to hers, too much emotion churning in my mind to know how to deal with all of it. I just wanted her, and I hoped beyond hope she wanted me too.

Her body reacted in my favor. Within a second, she climbed into my lap, kissing me hungrily, her fingers burying themselves in my hair. It felt like I could breathe again, it felt like home.

I dug my fingers into the small of her back, gripping her blouse, twisting it in my palm. She sighed against my lips, and I took my chance to delve into her mouth, to taste her, to claim her. If I only had this for the rest of my life, I’d be happy. “Mandy,” I breathed, moving my lips across hers, down to her chin, her neck. I kissed, nipped, licked at that spot beneath her ear, the one I remembered so fondly. It always set her on fire.

She groaned, the sound so soft, so sweet. Leaning into me, she trailed her hands up and down my chest, hesitating at the belt buckle beneath her hips before making their way back up to my collarbone. She was overwhelmed, fighting with herself for what she wanted.

“Do you want this?” I asked, dragging my fingertips up along her stocking-covered thigh, beneath the hem of her skirt. I dug my fingers in her flesh, my thumb so close but so far from what I already knew was a little damp patch. Her back arched into me. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her hands springing back to life and unbuttoning the top of my shirt. I stopped her. I wasn’t ready for her to see the tattoo. “Please, Jack.”

Please, Jack. It echoed in my mind as I let my fingers explore more of her, reacquainting themselves with her body. I grabbed the gusset of her stockings with my nails, pulled, and ripped it. Fucking nothing underneath.

Blood pooled in my cock immediately. She hadn’t worn underwear. Was she expecting this? Was she hoping for it? Whatever the reason, it excited me that much more, and I knew damn well that when the time was right, I’d tease her about it.

I slid my fingers in through the tear, brushing them against her. She was slick already, eager, wanting. “Fuck,” I sighed, finding her clit and brushing my thumb against it gently. She shivered. “You’re perfect. So goddamn perfect.”

She ground her hips forward, pushing my thumb harder against her. “More,” she begged. She buried her face in the crook of my neck, her breath fanning out against my flesh. “More, Jack.”

She moaned as I slid two fingers inside of her, so easily, like slicing through butter. She ground against me again, and I circled my thumb over her clit, taking in every sound she made and memorizing it. If this moment was all I’d be getting, I wanted to keep it forever.

My cock pressed painfully against my zipper. She had to have felt it beneath her, but I wasn’t going to push. This was enough. “Please,” she begged again, her dampness pooling in the palm of my hand. “Fuck me. I need you to fuck me.”

Holy shit. I paused, every part of me going stiff, the words lingering between us. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes,” she whispered without any hesitation.

“Look at me, Mandy.” I grabbed her gently by the back of the neck, forcing her to make eye contact with me. “Do you mean that?” I repeated, emphasizing every word.

She breathed heavily, her breasts sliding against my chest with every rise and fall. “Yes,” she said again, giving me a little nod. “I mean it.” Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

She was going to fucking break me.

I groaned a sigh of relief as I pressed my lips back to hers, more demanding this time. She was giving herself to me on a silver platter and I would take every bite she would allow me.

I stood, picking her up with me, gripping her by her thighs. Her stockings ripped more as I carried her, little holes with lines spreading down her legs, and without giving myself a moment to chicken out, I sat her down on the table in front of the seat she’d occupied only moments ago.

She hooked her legs around my waist as I fumbled with my belt, releasing it as quickly as my shaking hands would allow. I kissed her lips, her neck, her jaw. I wanted more of her body, but I wasn’t going to let this slip away. It was now or never.

My cock sprang out as I pulled my slacks down, the freedom of it making me gasp. The tip rested gently on her entrance, the warmth of it feeling like heaven, and I hooked my fingers into the top of the hole in her stockings, ripping it just a little bit more, giving myself further access.

I’d slept with women since her. I’d been in relationships since her, but nothing, absolutely fucking nothing, would compare to this.

She laid back on the table, her back arching, her moans growing louder as I slid myself inside of her. She fit around me like a fucking glove. “Yes,” I grunted, leaning over her, the sense of rightness almost too much to bear. “Yes. We fit together so fucking perfectly.”

Heat flooded her cheeks as she watched me, a little smile tugging at her lips. I found her clit again, my fingers slowly beginning to circle as she shivered, little ripples from her muscles massaging my cock before I even started to move.

But then I did.

“Jack,” she gasped, her hands flying to my collar, my neck. She pulled me down further toward her, her eyes wild, her body wriggling frantically beneath me.

My hips met hers, moving slowly at first, but soon picking up speed. I couldn’t hold back my grunts, my moans, not with her. It was too much.

Her eyes glanced down to where our bodies joined, her skirt flipped up against her stomach. “Oh my God,” she whispered, as I buried every inch of myself inside of her, the feeling of her walls gripping me tighter driving me insane. “Harder. Please. I want to see you fuck me harder.”

How could I not give her what she wanted?

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