Page 168 of Boss of the Year
Instead, the softness expanded, welcoming and kind.
My fears quieted even more.
“Do you want to know how to please me?” Lucas asked as he tucked a bit of hair behind my ear. “Or do you want me to learn to please you some more?”
One side of that full mouth lifted, and my chest squeezed in response. He’d never know how that almost smile was like a key turning in the lock around my heart.
“Can I say both?” I wondered. “Because I want…I want both.”
A dimple appeared. Only on the right side and oh-so-faint, but it was there, nonetheless.
The lock turned, and that smile opened a door somewhere deep inside me. The rest of the noise inside my head flew right out.
As if he knew I needed the hard surface to remain grounded, Lucas moved his hands over mine on the counter and pressed them down. “Keep these here. And look in the mirror.” His stubble rasped over the edge of my ear. “Don’t look away.”
“Oh-okay.”
I watched as his hands moved slowly up my sides, then around to pluck at the line of buttons until my blouse hung open, revealing my breasts, which had practically heaved themselves over the confines of my simple nude bra. His fingertips feathered over their swells.
I shivered again as my nipples tightened. He hadn’t even touched skin.
“So beautiful,” he murmured as he cupped me, relieving some of the weight from the bra’s thin straps, then kneading lightly and allowing my soft flesh to overflow those broad hands.
I arched into the contact when his thumbs stroked my tightened nipples. “Lucas?—”
“Shh.” His mouth brushed my temple. “I said watch.”
I couldn’t stop even if I tried. His left hand glided down the front of my body—slow and steady—trailing over my stomachuntil he reached the waistband of my skirt. He paused, then undid the button and zipper before letting it flutter past my thighs to the ground. I only just toed off my shoes and socks, then kicked them all away, leaving me standing in nothing but my underwear, still caged by Lucas’s tall form.
I lost my breath when his hand slid past the cotton of my panties to find the warmth waiting for him.
He let out a low groan. “God, Marie. You’re already dripping for me.”
I mewed—actuallymewedlike a lost kitten. Words had already deserted me, hypnotized as I was by the movement of his hand underneath the fabric. Why was it, in a way, hotter watching his hand under my clothes than if I had taken them off and let him have his way with me?
His fingers parted me, found my clit, and I cried out softly as my knees threatened to give.
“Don’t fight it.” His lips grazed my jaw while his other arm provided a strong anchor around my waist. “Let it take you, baby. I have you.”
His fingers stroked me slow and firm, then moved farther down to dip inside me, one, two, then a third, stretching, testing, searching for the deepest part of me.
I arched back, my voice all but gone. “Lucas,please.”
The hand at my waist slid back up to my breasts, and with a practiced flick, he unhooked my bra and let it fall. His palm closed over one soft pillow, then the other, kneading lightly before thumb and forefinger pinched my nipples until I hissed. He didn’t stop—just tugged again, firmer this time, sending a sharp bolt of pleasure-pain through me that made my knees buckle.
“Good?” he murmured, voice low and dark.
My only answer was a helpless moan, because yes—it hurt, but it also felt devastatingly good. His other hand left my depthsand traveled up to his mouth. I watched him slip those fingers between his lips and suck.
“Sweet Marie,” he murmured. “So fucking sweet.”
I whimpered, and my whole body flushed.
He slid his hand back down my body and pushed my panties to the side, finding me again like he owned me—like I’dalwaysbelonged to him. The slick sounds of his fingers working between my thighs were obscene in the quiet room, echoing off the marble-covered walls and blending with my moans.
“Eyes on the mirror,” he reminded. “Don’t look away.”
I didn’t.
