Boss Man Bridegroom

by Quinn, Meghan

  Not bothering with a bra or underwear, I snag one of his T-shirts and throw it over my body. If I can’t have the real thing, might as well take his scent with me in bed.

  When I head back out to the bedroom, I notice he hasn’t moved. This is exactly what he needs, more time to himself. Knowing there are throw blankets out on the couch, I grab my pillow and quietly exit his room.

  To say I’m disheartened is an understatement, but as I gather a few blankets and lie on the stiff couch, I realize he’s right. I’m making it so much harder on him, and I hate that he may have lost respect for me because of it. Things are already incredibly complicated with my grandma being sick, the “engagement” and wedding plans, the boss-assistant relationship. The last thing we need is to throw sleeping together in the mix. It might be painful but—

  “Charlee.” Rath’s voice shakes me to my core as I look up from where I’m lying. Standing in the hallway, hands propping him on both walls, he hangs his head low, but tilts it up just enough to make eye contact with me. The lights shining through the large windows focus on his ripped torso, highlighting every ridge and contour. With nothing on other than boxer briefs, he says, “Come here.”

  My throat grows heavy as my heart plummets against my ribs, sending a wave of nausea and excitement at the same time. I sit up, then step away from the couch and walk toward him, my pulse drowning out any noise around me. When I reach him, he takes my hand in his and walks us to the bedroom where he places me in front of his bed. Keeping his eyes trained on me, he reaches down to the hem of my shirt and slowly skims it along my body until it’s up and over my head. Tossing it to the floor, he takes my cheeks with his hands, tilts my mouth and I swear, everything slows down around us. The room starts to swirl in my mind and as his mouth descends on mine, I lose all sense of where I am. I’m caught up in the energy of the man who’s holding me.

  Right before his lips make contact, I suck in a breath of air and then in an instant, he steals it with his mouth pressing against mine. My hands move to his hair where they tangle in the short silky strands, while my body presses against his.

  My nipples rub against his barrel of a chest, his trimmed chest hair adding much-desired friction.

  His covered erection presses against my stomach, firm and high, sensually ready for me.

  But what is inciting my obvious arousal is the strong hold he has on my face and the way his mouth doesn’t seem like it can get enough.

  In a frantic move, our tongues clash together, our mouths moving back and forth, stealing breath from one another. He pulls away and looks me in the eyes, crazed and hungry. He looks ready to snap . . . and I’m ready for it.

  “I can’t hold back,” he says. “I tried, but I can’t. I need you, Charlee. Tell me you still want me.”

  “More than anything,” I say, getting emotional from the push and pull of this man.

  “Good.” He lowers me to the bed, spreads my legs, and hovers above me.

  He starts with my mouth, paying close attention while his hands float to my breasts, squeezing each one deliberately before moving to my nipples, where he plays with them until they’re so hard that they almost become painful.

  Deliciously painful.

  He rolls them between his fingers and then moves his mouth south, trailing his tongue along my skin until he reaches my breasts. Taking his time, he brings one into his mouth, causing me to squirm beneath him, looking for more, needing more.

  But he takes his time and moves over to the next breast, paying it the same attention. Kneading, sucking, kneading, sucking . . . pinching.

  “Aah,” I moan and thrust my hips for some relief, which they find. I rub my body against his hard one, making waves with my hips until he realizes what I’m doing and stills my hips with one press of his hand, his fingers curling to my backside where they imprint themselves.

  Not saying a word, he moves south again, dragging his tongue over my stomach, swirling around my belly button, and then down to my center. Not even skipping a beat, he moves his tongue along my slit, spreading me wide with two of his fingers. I glance down and see his head move with each stroke, his handsome face buried between my legs. It’s so erotic that it spurs me on even more and before I can count to ten, my orgasm starts to build.

  “God, yes, Rath.” My hand falls to his head where I play with his hair, encouraging him. I spread my legs even wider, wanting nothing to be in his way as he flicks my clit with the tip of his tongue, then swirls, then flicks, then swirls . . .

  Oh God.

  He flattens his tongue and I nearly fly off the mattress.

  “I’m going to come. Rath, oh God, I’m going to come.” I grip the pillow on both sides and prepare myself as he lifts his tongue and then lightly glides it over my clit with the very tip barely applying any pressure, just enough to build and build me up until—

  “Ohhh . . . fuuuck,” I scream as he applies more pressure. My orgasm tears through my body, scorching through my limbs, shooting up my stomach, and then back down, pooling and gathering, and taking over every last inch of feeling inside of me.

  I call out his name.

  I grip his hair.

  I flail my arms over my face, covering my eyes as I can’t take it anymore.

  “Please,” I call out on a sob. “Oh God, please stop. It’s too much.”

  But he doesn’t stop as the pleasure continues to roar through me, jolting me until he finally lets up, giving me a second to breathe, but not much time because before I know it, I hear the wrapper tear open. I peek up to see his cock jutting out before he sheathes it with a condom.

  Returning to me, he kneels in front of me, spreads his legs so he lowers himself, and then poises his tip at my entrance.

  Catching my eyes, his brow pinched together, his muscles straining, he’s looking for permission. As if I could deny him at this point. I reach down, grab his cock, and put it inside me. He growls out in pleasure as he rocks himself inside, his girth stretching me in the most exquisite way.

  He rocks and rocks until he bottoms out, both of us gasping at the same time. He shudders forward, and I grip the back of his neck, pulling him down until our mouths meet. Unlike other men I’ve been with, he doesn’t shy away from kissing me while deep inside of me. He takes his time. This isn’t a sprint to him . . . this is a marathon, and even though I can sense his urgency to come, he takes his time.

  Hovering above me, his hands on either side of my head, his cock deep inside me, he makes out with me. It’s glorious. Starting slow, his mouth moves across mine, nipping and sucking, and then he presses his tongue inside, finding mine. And that’s where he stays, letting me feel every inch of him, every ounce of passion pouring out of him, every emotion.

  In this moment, Rath tangled around me, I see a glimpse of the man I’ve wanted to see for so long. The vulnerability in the etch of his brow, the passion in his hungry eyes, the yearning in his tense and greedy hands. It’s what I’ve wanted—his fervor—and realizing I’m finally getting it only builds my elation. My joy. God, this man is magnificent.

  I lower my hands down his back to his firm ass, where I squeeze and encourage him to move faster. He grunts out in response, releases my mouth, and props himself up. I have the perfect view of his rippling abs as his pelvis thrusts in and out, his skin slamming against mine. His grunts of pleasure spur me on, and then I feel my pussy tightening and my orgasm impending again.

  “So tight,” he says, grunting as he pushes in again, this time harder. “You there?”

  “Yes,” I say breathlessly as my orgasm spikes and I fall over the edge, this time the sensation more intense as Rath fills me with every piston of his hips. Faster and faster, creating so much friction that it’s almost unbearable, and before I can’t take anymore, Rath stills, grunts, and comes.

  He comes hard. I feel it in the force releasing from his body, in the way he collapses, and the aftershocks that seem to wrack his body.

  We lie there, on his bed, still connected, try
ing to catch up with our breaths as our chests heave together.

  After a few moments, Rath lifts up, leans on his elbows, straddling my head. His hands come to my face where he gently glides his thumbs over my cheeks. Speaking softly, he says, “You’re so beautiful, Charlee. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

  The way he calls me beautiful, so sincere, brings tears to my eyes. I shake my head. “I don’t think you ever could.”

  “I can now.” He lowers his head and gently presses his lips to mine. “You’re beautiful. Really fucking beautiful.”

  Still inside me, he kisses me. He kisses me until I feel breathless, and right then I think he can’t get any more perfect. He quickly cleans us up, turns me over, and wraps his body closely around me so we’re both sharing his pillow.

  And then we pass out.

  * * *

  The first thing to wake me up is the early morning sun filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The second thing to wake me is the man wrapped around me and his morning erection pressed against my back.

  The dramatics and emotions from last night hit me hard as I think back to how Rath looked, standing in the hallway, defeat lacing his features as he called me to come back to the bedroom. The dip in his briefs, the fine sinew weaved through his body, bouncing like fireworks from the tension rolling through him, and that capitulation in his eyes, finally surrendering to his feelings. It drew me in last night and just thinking about it now is stirring my wants and doubts.

  He rolls to the side, one meaty arm drawing over his eyes.

  Sitting up, I let the blanket slip off my naked body and take him in under the orange glow of the sun rising.

  The most attractive man I’ve ever seen, there’s no question. With his dark hair, even darker scruff grazing his strong jaw, and then his beautifully sculpted body and how he uses it in a demanding yet gentle way at the same time. He’s unlike any man I’ve ever been with—so passionate and intense. The way he wrestled with integrity versus need was staggering. Eye-opening. He’s insanely estimable, and not just because of his high intelligence. He has integrity.

  Biting on my lower lip, my eyes travel south to where his erection presses against the sheets. God, I want him, even after the exhaustive sex we had last night; it’s all I can think about this morning. All I can feel buzzing through my body.

  Shifting the sheets, I expose his erection and look at it in the morning light. Thick, long, with just the slightest curve that I know would feel amazing if I was riding him, because it would hit me in just the right spot.

  Dare I?

  There’s nothing better than morning sex.

  Hell, it’s not like he’s going to kick me off him. At least, I hope not.

  Gaining courage, I lift and straddle his body so I’m facing backward—reverse cowgirl—then position his cock at my entrance. I can feel how turned on I am already, so I navigate his tip and then sink down slowly, enjoying every last, long inch until I’m fully seated on his pelvis while I reach down and grip his thighs.

  I was right about the curve as I squeeze my eyes shut tight from how perfect he feels inside me. Nothing in my life has ever felt like this, like it belongs, like I was meant to be riding this man, and that’s startling. Because this is sex. This isn’t a relationship. But I couldn’t stop myself if I wanted at this point. I’m drawn, I’m addicted, I need this.

  “Fucking hell, babe,” he groans, his voice groggy as his hands falls to my hips. “Christ, this is the best wake-up call.”

  He helps me move up and down, guiding the pace, while I swivel my hips and move, hitting that exact spot I need, quickly starting to spasm around him.

  “Shit,” he mutters, pumping faster. “No condom.”

  “Pill,” I say through a tight voice.

  That’s all he needs. He jolts upward, hitting my G-spot, and I nearly black out from the pleasure.

  Catching my breath, I say, “Again, do that again.”

  He does. Over and over until my body feels like it splits in half, euphoria blasting through me so fast and so hard that I scream out his name and dig my nails into his thighs. At the same time, he stills, and I can feel him shoot his cum inside me as he shudders beneath, his sexy moans mingling with mine.

  Unable to discern what the hell just happened, I swivel around and collapse on his chest. Sweetly, he caresses my hair and presses light kisses along my temple.

  “Morning, beautiful.”

  I smile against his chest. “Good morning.”

  His fingers graze along my spine, sending chills along my skin. Noticing the goosebumps, he pulls the covers over us. And then we lie there on a lazy Saturday morning, doing nothing but enjoying each other’s company.

  Around mid-morning, I finally drag myself away from him, take a quick shower, pack, and head back to my apartment, but not before giving him a long, meaningful kiss goodbye.

  Smiles on our faces, we part. Nothing about the future exchanged between us, just a general, unspoken understanding that what’s happening between us is special, and we’re going to keep it that way.

  At least that’s what I hope.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  RATH

  Sunday night.

  Nothing to do but sit and stare at my TV . . . one thing on my mind: Charlee.

  Since she left my apartment yesterday morning to spend time with her grandma, I haven’t been able to think about anything else. Not even work, well, unless it was where I can fuck Charlee in the office. The “meditation” room for sure. My desk, my tinted windows, my office chair, turned away from Sir Dragomir of course, her desk is too risky for potential visitors, but that doesn’t mean I can’t at least play with her tits if I’m sitting there with her.

  It’s been non-stop, and it’s starting to make me mad.

  I’ve given her some space, just in case she changed her mind, just in case she thought Friday night was a huge mistake, which I’m hoping isn’t the case. I took a big leap, going back on the promise I made to myself to stay away from her.

  Who was I kidding? I didn’t stand a chance after the second day she came back to the office after being fired, as if nothing happened. I should have known then this girl was going to own me by the balls. I should have definitely known she’d defeat my defenses by her simple acceptance to sleep both at my apartment and in my bed. She’s much more unflappable than I thought, this girl I’ll be marrying shortly.

  Fucking marrying.

  After Friday night, is it really possible that I’ll be able to let Charlee go? I give it some serious thought and shake my head. No. I don’t think it is, which means one thing: not only am I going to have to make sure she marries me, I have to make sure this girl knows how important she is to me before she decides the marriage is over.

  But how do I make sure she won’t want to walk away?

  Leaning back on my stiff couch—Charlee was right, I should hire someone to break this in—I pick up my phone and find her number. I haven’t text her all weekend but before we see each other tomorrow morning, I want to make sure we’re good. That she’s good. That she’s not regretting anything that happened between us, because I sure as shit don’t.

  I type out a text to her and send it.

  Rath: Have a good weekend?

  It’s simple, but a good opener. Thankfully, she doesn’t make me wait long for a response. From the ding of my phone, I mute my TV as if it was bothering me in the first place.

  Charlee: Had a great weekend with Grandma. She’s looking a little more spirited, which is great to see and of course, she can’t stop talking about the wedding. I told her the date. I hope that’s okay.

  Rath: Of course it is. Tell her whatever you want.

  Charlee: Well I didn’t tell her everything . . . if you know what I mean.

  Rath: You mean you didn’t tell her how you woke me up the best way possible, with my dick deep inside of you?

  It might be a little too much, too fast, but it’s also a good tester to see wh
ere her head’s at. Plus, just thinking about yesterday morning, shit, I want to wake up like that every morning with Charlee riding me. I can still feel her warmth surrounding my cock, and how her pussy clenched so tightly around my length that I fucking blacked out. Legit, the lights turned out in my brain and I thought nothing, except the feel of every inch of that woman.

  Charlee: Definitely didn’t tell her about your wake-up call.

  Rath: Might have made her hair whiter than it is.

  Charlee: If that’s possible.

  I stare at her text and try to figure out what to say next. Do I ask her if she’s okay? If we’re okay? Do I ask if she wants to come over tonight? What about tomorrow, what happens if I kiss her in the office, is she going to be pissed about that?

  Before I can think of something good to say, she texts me again.

  Charlee: Going to eat dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.

  I study the text. It’s not very warm; actually it’s almost cold. Normally she would have said something like see you tomorrow, boss man bridegroom, or some stupid shit like that. Does this mean she’s regretting what happened between us? If I think about it, she left abruptly on Saturday. Yes, we had one hell of a fucking kiss at the door, but that was it. She’s been radio silent ever since then.

  Shit.

  I push my hand through my hair. I think she’s backing away, which I can’t let happen because if there’s one thing I learned this past weekend, it’s that Charlee can’t go anywhere, not now that I know the exquisite taste of her. Not when she’s my bride to be. This girl is something special.

  Which means, I need to show it.

  * * *

  The floors count off as I ride the elevator. Nerves jump in my belly the closer I get. I know she’s there—she’s always there before me and the minute I see her—I’m going to make sure she knows just how happy I am to see her.