Page 44 of The Boss

We climbed the stairs side by side, my hand on the back of his neck, footsteps echoing in the dimly lit hall. At his door, he hesitated, fingers curling around the key, but not turning it. The air between us thickened, the silence pressing in close.

I didn’t want to leave.

I wasn’t sure when the shift had happened—maybe somewhere between the careless sprawl of his body over mine and the way he moaned around a mouthful of chicken—but today had felt perfect. Real. And I wasn’t ready to let go of it yet. The need to protect him burned like a wildfire within me, all-consuming and uncontrollable. And beneath it… something deeper. A desire as powerful and electric as a thunderstorm rolling in.

Chris finally opened the door of his apartment and turned to me, eyes searching, something unreadable in the set of his mouth. “Well, as you can see, I’m safe.”

I only grunted, peering into the darkness inside, then back at him. My jaw was working. My fingers twitched at my sides. We stood in the doorway, neither of us moving.

He smiled and said, “Goodnight, Zac,” then closed the space between us, pulling me into a hug.

It should have been goodbye. Instead, I caught his face between my hands and crushed my mouth to his.

He gasped—a soft, startled sound—before he melted into me, his breath hitching as my fingers twisted into his hair. He was warm, pliant, but when I licked into his mouth, he met me with heat. Teeth scraping, hands pulling, bodies pressing like we were trying to fuse into one. It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t hesitant. It was raw, desperate, every unsaid word devoured between us,every pent-up desire spilling into the frantic slide of lips and tongues. Our very first kiss, and already it felt like it could undo me.

I groaned, deep in my chest, and then we were stumbling inside, the door slamming shut behind us, hands groping, clothing tugged loose, mouths never breaking apart. He pressed me against the wall, his erection straining through his jeans, and then I spun him, trapping him between my body and the cool plaster, my thigh pushing between his legs from behind, his ass rubbing against my hard-on.

“Zac,” he gasped, his head falling back as I licked down his throat. “God.”

I bit his ear and he shuddered, clawing at my back, pressing me into him, pushing his butt into my groin. Wanting his lips again, I spun him to face me, yanking his hoodie and his T-shirt over his head in a single motion. The moment they were gone, I surged forward, locking my lips with his in deep, wet, sloppy kisses that made my blood boil with lust. He tugged at the zipper of my hoodie, dragging it down to uncover my chest. As soon as he unzipped it, he dove for my nipple, flicking his tongue over it before he took it into his mouth and started sucking on it.

Fuck! No one had ever done it to me like that, and my head fell back as I shrugged the hoodie off. Chris grazed his teeth over my nipple, dragging me to his bedroom, our feet tangling as we crashed onto the mattress in a jumble of limbs. I rolled on top of him, his body hard and soft beneath mine, heat pouring off his skin. He arched up, hips grinding into me, and I swore, breath shuddering, as I reached between us, fingers popping the button on his jeans.

Chris was already pushing at my pants, tugging them down just enough to free me. His palm wrapped around my cock in a slow, torturous stroke.

“This okay?” he murmured, breathless.

I pumped into his fist, my heart hammering. “Yeah,” I rasped, meeting his gaze. “But I want more.”

His pupils blew wide. “What—what are you saying?” he whispered.

“I want to fuck you.”

Without a word, he reached for the nightstand, fumbling for a condom and lube, finding them by touch alone.

I took both from him while he shed the rest of his clothes, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he sat back on his elbows, watching as I stood at the edge of the bed and stripped the rest of the way, the air between us thick with heat, with want. The bedside lamp cast a soft, golden glow over the room, illuminating every inch of him—the flush spreading down his chest, the rapid rise and fall of his breath, the way his cock twitched against his stomach, already leaking.

My cock throbbed in rhythm with my heartbeat as I took him in, precum hanging in a thin, glistening strand. His breath hitched as I slicked my fingers, as I pressed them between his thighs, below his balls, and against his hole. The moment I pushed inside, he went still, lips parting, a sharp inhale. Then his head fell back, and he moaned.

I watched everything. The way his face shifted, the way his body responded, the slow unraveling of tension as I worked him open, stretching him, preparing him. He was tight, his hole clasping around my fingers, so I took it slow, easing two in before adding another. By the time he was writhing, panting my name, I was barely holding myself together.

I rolled the condom on, slicked myself up, and settled between his thighs, my cock nudging at his entrance. His legs locked around me, hands gripping my arms, eyes heavy-lidded but clear, waiting.

And then I pushed in.

Tight, hot, perfect.

His lips parted in a silent gasp, his body arching beneath me, and I drank it all in. The tight heat swallowing me, the way his fingers dug into my triceps, the soft flutter of his lashes as he blinked up at me, his gaze wide and glazed with pleasure. I rocked forward, filling him inch by inch, until I was buried balls-deep, until there was nothing between us.

“Look at you,” I murmured, my voice thick.

Chris’s lips curved into a breathless smile. “I love how your cock feels inside me. So thick. So full. Give me more.”

I pulled back and thrust in again, a slow, deliberate stroke, and his head tipped back, a groan spilling from his throat. I braced myself above him, watching the way his muscles flexed, the way his body took me in. I wanted to see everything. The way his mouth fell open every time I filled him. The way his pleasure built, the moment it took him over completely. I set the rhythm slow at first, savoring it, the slide and heat, the way his hole clenched around my cock, the way he whispered my name like a prayer. But soon, neither of us could hold back, and I drove into him harder, deeper, chasing that edge, pushing him closer.

“Oh God, Zac,” he whimpered. “Yes! Right there.” He reached between us, stroking himself, his movements frantic.

“Come for me,” I murmured, voice rough.

---