Page 45 of The Boss

He tensed, muscles going taut, his whole body shuddering as he spilled between us, his moan breaking into whimpers that made my vision blur. I lost it then, my hips bucking, pleasure coiling tight and snapping, rapture flooding through me as I buried myself one last time and came with a groan.

Chris’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body still trembling from his orgasm, but his legs remained locked around me, keeping me inside him. His eyes fluttered open as I collapsed onto him, his skin slick beneath mine, his chest heaving. His arms slid up my back, his fingers pressing into my skin like he didn’t want me to move. The light bathed us in orange warmth,casting shadows along his flushed skin, catching in the sweat dampening his hair.

I groaned, feeling the tight clutch of his body around my cock, still buried deep, still hard and refusing to go soft. The heat, the slickness, the aftershocks of his pleasure squeezing down on me—it was too much, and not enough.

“Zac…” His voice was wrecked, hoarse. But when his hips rocked up, a needy little roll against me, I knew exactly what he wanted.

“You want more?” I murmured, sliding my hands beneath his thighs, pushing them higher, opening him even further.

He let out a shaky breath, his lips parting. “Yeah.”

“Say it.” I dragged my cock almost all the way out before slamming back in, watching the way his body arched, the way his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “I want it—I want you to fuck me again. Now.”

I grinned, dark and hungry, bending down to nip at his lower lip. “Good boy.”

Then I gave it to him. I set a brutal pace, driving into him, the sound of wet skin slapping filling the room. Chris clung to me, nails raking down my back, his face flushed, his mouth falling open as I fucked him even harder than before.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” I growled, my balls smacking his butt with every thrust. “So tight, taking me so deep. You love it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he gasped, voice breaking. “Fuck, Zac—I love it.”

I gripped his jaw, forcing his gaze on me. “You love having me inside you?”

His eyes shone, pupils blown wide. “Yes.”

“You love getting fucked by me?”

“God, yes.” His breath hitched, his cock hard again between us, leaking against his stomach.

I groaned at the sight, at the way his body begged for more. “Then come for me again,” I commanded, angling my thrusts until I hit that perfect spot inside him. “No touching this time. I want to feel you lose it while I’m still inside you.”

Chris let out a strangled cry, his body tightening, and then he was coming again, untouched, spilling between us with a shuddering moan. The way he clenched around me sent me spiraling over the edge, ecstasy rushing through me like an earthquake.

With a final, deep thrust, I buried myself to the hilt, shuddering as I pushed past that tight inner ring—deeper than before—where his body gripped my cock in a way that made my vision blur. Chris whimpered, his fingers digging into my back, and the way he squeezed down on me sent a bolt of pleasure straight to my spine. My entire body locked up as I came, my cock pulsing, filling the same condom that was already slick with my first release.

For a moment, the world went silent, nothing but the harsh rasp of our breathing, the lingering tremors in my limbs as I collapsed onto him. His skin was flushed, damp, his eyes glassy as he looked up at me.

And fuck, he was beautiful.

For a long time, neither of us moved. My cock finally went limp, and I pulled out carefully, slipping off the condom and tossing it aside before slumping onto my back. Chris turned into me immediately, pressing his face to my chest, his breath warm against my skin, legs tangling with mine. I wrapped an arm around him without thinking, holding him close, fingers drifting lazily over his spine.Mine.

The moment stretched, warm and endless. It felt… natural. That should’ve unsettled me. Maybe it did, in some quiet, subconscious way.

I stared at the ceiling, chest rising and falling, the aftershocks still tingling through my limbs. My mind should’ve been racing—what this meant, what it changed—but I couldn’t bring myself to analyze it yet. All I knew was that I just had the most intense, most mindblowing orgasm in my entire life, and that I wanted to keep touching him. That I liked the weight of him against me, the way his breath slowed to match mine. That I wasn’t ready to leave.

Chris shifted, pressing closer, his lips ghosting over my collarbone. “You okay?”

I exhaled through my nose, my fingers still tracing his back. “Yeah.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth, either.

He didn’t push. Just hummed softly, settling against me like he belonged there. And maybe—for tonight, at least—he did. But when tomorrow comes, when reality presses in, I wasn’t sure what I’d see when I looked at him. Or worse—what I’d see when I looked at myself.

19. Chris

The blare of my alarm tore me from sleep, dragging me up from the depths of warmth and exhaustion. I fumbled blindly over the nightstand until I found my phone, silencing the sharp, insistent ringing. Dim gray light seeped through the curtains, stretching soft, long shadows across the room. My sheets were twisted, pillows askew, the air still heavy with the remnants of last night—sweat, sex, Zac.

I turned onto my side, reaching out instinctively, expecting solid heat, the weight of a body beside mine. But my fingers brushed only the cool, empty bed.

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