Page 63 of The Boss

Something unyielding rubbed over that ring of muscle, but before I could tense, he moved his finger from my clit to my pussy, sliding inside with ease. In and out, his finger moved until all of my focus was on that, and then he added a second finger. Twisting his fingers inside me, he made rapid circles over my clit with his thumb, and just as the sensations were going to be too much, he pressed whatever he had in his other hand against my anus. For a brief moment, nothing happened, and then my muscles gave way, and it slid inside.

I let out a moan, turning my head so that my face was to the mattress. Fingers and other things moved in tandem, sending a strange, pleasurable burn to mix with the more familiar electric sort of pleasure that came from his fingers. The strokes came faster, less in rhythm, twists sending knuckles rubbing against my walls, thumb movements becoming more aggressive until I was writhing on the bed, not knowing if I wanted him to stop or if I needed more.

“Come for me,le soliel. I want to see you come like this, my fingers in your cunt and something in your ass.”

I shuddered, the combination of his words and talented fingers bringing me to the peak. How did he always know what I needed? Now wasn’t the time to try to figure it out. Thinking became impossible as I tipped over the edge, my blanket muffling the shout that would have woken far too many people

He pulled his fingers out but left the object still inside me. He ran his hand up my spine and pushed my hair back from my face.

“One day soon, I’m going to take your ass,” he promised. “And eventually, I’ll show you how good double penetration can feel. But not tonight.”

I nodded to show that I understood, though a question floated into my head. Did he mean to share me? That wasn’t something I wanted. But he’d said that would be in the future. Not something to bring up or worry about tonight.

He removed whatever it was he’d put in my ass and then moved off the bed for a moment. I heard him throwing something away, then turning on the sink – I assumed to wash his hands. He was back in seconds, already opening a condom wrapper.

“I owe you one of those hair chopstick things.”

I frowned, not understanding. But when he spread my legs farther apart and settled between them, it clicked, and heat flooded my face.Thatwas what he’d had in my ass. I didn’t have the chance to dwell on it much because the heavy weight of his cock against the overly sensitive skin of my butt cheek made me flinch. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the base of my spine before kissing his way up to a spot between my shoulder-blades.

As I relaxed, the tip of his cock notched against my entrance. He held himself above me as he snapped his hips forward, burying him inside me without any of the gentleness that he’d shown with his kisses. I cried out, back arching instinctively. His hand landed in the last place he’d kissed and held me down. If he hadn’t paused, as if waiting for me to say something, I might’ve forgotten that I was the one who had the final say in what happened between us. That hesitation spoke volumes about the man above me, reinforcing the trust I had in him.

Neither one of us said a word for several long seconds, and then he grabbed my ponytail, yanking my head back. Bent at an awkward angle, I should have been turned off, but I wasn’t. If anything, it added another element to the multitude of sensations coursing through me, a different sort of pain. My nipples chafed against my blanket as he drove into me with deep, fast strokes, sending me rocketing toward a second orgasm that promised to be even more powerful than the last.

His thumb ran down my crease, stopping at my still slick anus. Thicker than the chopstick, he had to apply more pressure, but when it popped inside, it was the last thing I needed to come. My mouth opened, but no sound came out, even though I heard the scream in my head. It was too much, too intense, but I never wanted it to stop.

At some point, I’d realize how dangerous this was, how easy it would be to lose myself in him, and in this.

But not tonight. Not now.

Forty

Nate

I kept waitingto get bored. We’d only fucked a few times, but that didn’t matter. It was how things went with me. If a first encounter was good and both of us agreed that we wanted more, we discussed terms and went from there. We could push our limits, delve into whatever depravities appealed to us. Sometimes, we ventured into new territory for one or both of us, but I’d never been with someone who was new toallof it.

Not jumping straight to something extreme because it might freak her out was new for me, but it shouldn’t have been a positive thing. It should have annoyed me, but instead, it spoke to a part of my Dominant nature that hadn’t really been awake before. The part that made me truly want to take care of my sub.

I’d done that in a way for other women, making sure they had the time and care they needed to come out of their subspace, but it was different with Ashlee. I trusted her to speak up if she wanted to stop, but I also knew that she didn’t have the experience that I did, and she needed me to look out for her in ways that no one else ever had.

I was used to looking after myself. I was the stereotypical ‘invisible’ middle child with a ‘perfect’ older brother and the ‘baby’ younger brother. I loved my parents, but we weren’t close. I did things my way, and when something went wrong, I took care of it myself. I’d never even thought about taking on someone else as a responsibility, but my subconscious, it seemed, had already accepted Ashlee.

She stirred next to me, and my arm tightened around her automatically. When we’d finished, she’d closed her eyes and fallen asleep. I doubted she’d be out for long, but I’d pushed her body in a way it wasn’t used to, and it needed some time to recuperate. Honestly, I’d needed a couple minutes to recover myself. I’d come so hard I’d seen spots. Now, though, it was time to get cleaned up and go home.

I eased away from Ashlee and climbed out of bed, careful not to wake her. I went across the small hall to her bathroom and cleaned myself up, not bothering with a shower. I’d take one of those when I went home. At the moment, a washcloth and a sink would do the trick.

I didn’t want to leave while she was sleeping, even though that had never bothered me before. I wasn’t going to stay the night, but I’d give her a little more time to sleep. I was tempted to climb back in bed, wrap my arms around Ashlee, and enjoy having a few peaceful minutes. We never seemed to have peace. We were always either at odds or fucking, and there wasn’t much in between.

Maybe that was why it felt weird to think about…cuddling.

I made my way into the kitchen, opening and closing the few cabinets as I went. I told myself I wasn’t snooping; I was merely satisfying my curiosity. I supposed if Ashlee caught me, she’d make a distinction. Or maybe not. She surprised me more often than not.

A stack of papers sat on her desk, and I glanced at them as I reached for a picture frame that sat behind them. In it, a young Ashlee stood with a short, curvy woman with the same winning smile. I took it in for only a few seconds because it took that long for my brain to process what I’d seen sticking out from underneath the top paper.

I set the picture back down and pulled the newspaper clipping out so I could see the whole thing. I was mildly impressed that she actually read physical newspapers, but then I finished processing.

Four or five years ago, Finley and I had thrown a charity fundraiser where artists on our label played a concert where all the proceeds had gone to fund an LGBTQ safe house for anyone who’d been kicked out of their homes or was in danger because of who they were. It had been a rare event that both of us had attended, and the reporter who’d done the story had taken a picture of both of us. In the article itself, several things had been circled, and notes were jotted in the margins. Things like “co-founders,” “internship,” and “degrees needed for promotion.”

What the fuck? Why did she have this? She hadn’t been working for us when we did that fundraiser. I remembered her starting date from when I’d looked at her file.

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