Page 62 of The Mogul: Leonard

I’m teasing him. I’m glad he’s not one of those men who keeps a condom in his wallet. I don’t even know if he has a wallet. Usually, unbelievably rich people don’t own one, just a small patch of leather that contains all their credit cards.

He chuckles. “I’m a thoughtful man. I also have one box at home and one in the car I use for daily travel. I’m not a teenager who goes around with a condom in my wallet. I don’t even have one!”

I knew it! Rich people, no wallet. I bend down to pick up the golden foil from his desk and I notice that there are no missing pieces from the box. He’s telling the truth when he says he doesn’t fuck in his office.

He growls. “Bend down like that again, and I swear I’ll break this chair to put my hands on that glorious ass.”

I sway my hips to tease him a bit more; he lets out another deep growl from his chest. He is a sight I’ll never tire of seeing. His muscles are tense, giving him a perfectly sculpted body. His pecs are so well defined I could fit them in my palm. The desire to nip them is overwhelming, and I just give in to it, lowering myself, licking and biting my way to his nipples. I suck one between my lips, and he stops breathing, arching his back and offering me his body. I love to have him under my spell. It’s empowering and exhilarating.

I stand up and rip the packet with my teeth, my gaze never leaving his lustful eyes. I smile while I bend down, slowly lick his shaft, and then roll down the condom over his hot manhood. I straddle him and tease his erection with slow, calculated movements.

I rub my clit over his cock and moan when a bolt of pleasure runs along my spine. If I keep going like this, I will come before even fucking him.

“Let me suck your tits, please,” Leonard rasps, reminding me he is still restrained to the chair. His tone is pleading, his eyes full of an urgency that is difficult to ignore.

“Only because you asked me nicely,” I purr in his ear and then suck at his neck.

He pushes his hips against my core, and another moan of pleasure escapes my lips when my clit rubs harder against his shaft.

I arch my back and give him access to my breast. He strains his neck and grabs a nipple with his teeth. He squeezes a little, not too hard to hurt, but enough to sting a bit, giving me a shock deep down in my core. Then he licks it, and I almost come. I look down at him. A smirk crosses his face. He may be restrained, but he knows how to use every other part of his body to give me pleasure. I like that about him, so confident he can make a woman come only with his mouth on her breast.

I respond, pressing my core against his erection, and he moans, sucking at my nipple. It’s a war between us for who will come first. There will be no losers, no matter the outcome.

I raise myself, standing a bit, and, with my hand, guide his cock toward my entrance. I slip down so slowly that it’s almost a punishment for both of us. He fits me so nicely his shaft reaches places no other man ever got the pleasure to explore. Damn, it’s nice to have a man this packed.

He lets out a low breath and closes his eyes, pushing his hips upward, trying to fit every inch of his length inside me. And I take it.

“Fuck me, please.” His moan is almost strained, his desire clear in his eyes, and I do just that. I roll my hips and fuck him deep and slow, enjoying every inch of his manhood. He thrusts his hips, matching my movement, and I don’t even realize I’m now riding him like my life depends on it.

I chase the orgasm I’ve craved since I started working with him. I give in to my fantasy and ride the man who’s made me come time and time again alone in my room. I ride him hard and fast, and with a low, guttural growl, he comes so hard he rips his hands free.

He grabs my hips and squeezes them, almost bruising me, and guides me to the point of no return, where the pleasure explodes in my lower belly and wave after wave of mesmerizing orgasm shakes me to the point I slump spent on his chest. The pleasure is so intense I can feel it deep in my core, in my chest. My breasts are so sensitive it almost hurts.

We are both silent and panting for a long moment, wrapped in a cocoon of rugged breaths and shivers that ripple across our skin.

“Damn, that was my favorite tie.” He chuckles as one hand caresses my back and the other puts the shredded piece of fabric on the desk.

I look at him and smile. “I’ll buy you another one.”

He shakes his head. “You can rip every tie in my closet if you put on a show like tonight. I’ve never come so hard in my life.” He raises an eyebrow.

There is a hint of vulnerability in the smug smile that curls his lips. Something I’m not used to in him, and an unexpected feeling grips my heart and squeezes lightly. I can’t tell if it’s a pleasant or a scary one.

Doubt creeps into my chest. “Does that mean there will be another round?” Hope drips from my words, and I curse myself for sounding so needy. I don’t want to look like a weak girl who needs reassurance, not in front of a man like him, confident and unapologetic.

He frowns. “Of course, there will be. Do you think I just fucked up all my resolution to stay away from you for a one-night stand?” His tone is almost offended. The look on his face tells me that he took for granted that this would be clear from the beginning, but he already rejected me once, and I don’t take it for granted. It’s not like we’ve had time to talk and plan this thing out.

Also, I don’t know where to go with this new development in our relationship—it’s too soon to process what just happened—but I’m certain his words lifted a weight from my chest.

“I promise I won’t shred the contents of your closet.” I wink.

He puts his arms around me and drags me to his chest. His heart is still beating fast, and the comfort of this embrace makes mine leap in my chest. I spent so much time hating him that my heart and brain have difficulty processing what happened tonight. But one thing I’m sure of, this contact between us, skin-to-skin, feels damn right.

21

Leonard

She is perfect.

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