Page 92 of The Boss
I pull back eventually to look at him and ask, “How bad?”
“I’m fine,” he sets my tiny dog down, to Tink’s delight, and puts his hands on my face. His rough thumbs wipe under my eyes. “You? Were you hurt?” I shake my head but I can’t say no because he’s kissing me. Same as before. Commanding. Total. Like a man starved but also not in a hurry. I start crying again.
He reaches down to put his hands on my thighs and I gladly hop up to wrap myself around him. He groans and starts walking us to the shack. I hope I feel like a blanket to him too. I try to kiss him back with as much desperation. If he’d died…
Our kisses turn different. More. Looser. Needier.
He stops at the front door, seeming almost delirious with need. I’m shoved against the wood. It’s hard and cold on my back. While Quinn is all bulging heat at my front. He thrusts up into me with another gritty, animalistic sound I fucking love.
“Yes, please,” I say as he kisses my neck. “Quinn.” I pull at his buckle. He lets me. He moves his hands into my pants, grabbing an ass cheek in each hand.
I let go with one arm and push everything he’s wearing down far enough that his dick springs free. I grip it but he quickly pushes into me again, rubbing against my center through my jeans.
“Please,” I beg again. I pull my jeans down too.
He moves again. His smooth length runs along my clit. It’s the most electric, amazing, brutal sensation.
“Quinn,” I whimper his name, “how many times do I have to beg you?”
He kisses me, hard, long, deliberate.
He pulls away and locks eyes with me to ask. I brace myself. Finally, he says, “Lasa,baby,tell me you’re in love with me too.”
I hesitate, my heart stuttering in my chest.He loves me. I…I…I smirk and say the usual sarcastic, “Sure.”
Quinn breathes, pants really, through flared nostrils. Debating, or maybe just torturing me.
“Fuck it.”
He moves a hand to position himself right at my entrance and then—
“Quinn!”
Hollllyyyyyy—
“I…it’s too much,” I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Breathe, Luna,” he says, studying me. “Open your eyes, baby.” I do. His eyes are…worried. Warm. Hopeful. Heartbroken. We inhale together and exhale together, like we’ve done at the range. He inches in further with a hiss. It burns but it also feels…right.Like he’s filling the empty ache I’ve had for weeks. Months. Years.
He looks down to where we’re joined and his mouth parts. I can’t help it. I need his lips like I need air. I crane my neck to kiss him and he reciprocates. His moan is guttural as he pulls out and then back in. Slow but punishing.
“Yes,” he hisses. “Perfect. You’re perfect.” He pulls out and in again. “Keep breathing.”
“More,” I say, needing it.
He smirks and pulls out and then smashes up into me so hard I see stars. He does it again and again and again and I can’t…he…there’s cursing and skin slapping and I’m so wet I canhearit.
His moves get almost frantic so he shifts to move one hand down to my center. He presses my clit and—
“QUINN!”
Our own explosion. Blinding pleasure. White. Total. Heat fills me. He fills me.
“Luna! Fuck!” Our screams fill the forest.
More and more the waves wash over me. He keeps moving too. It goes on forever, bliss and agony and peace and war and everything, everywhere all at once.
Eventually, we start to breathe again. To think.
