The Boss Vol. 1: a Billionaire Serial

by Quinn, Cari

  I liked the idea that I could do that to him.

  That there was something within me that could push at him. It echoed in my throbbing nipples against the glass and lower, where I was so wet and needy. Between my thighs—the only place he hadn’t touched.

  I moved restlessly, my ass rubbing across the front placket of his pants. He was hard and…substantial. I couldn’t tell exactly how substantial, because he wouldn’t let me touch him.

  I flexed my fingers, twisting my hands until they were crossed at the wrist, and I could touch something. The cuff of his shirt, the dusting of hair along his wrist, the side of his hand. I was starving for his skin.

  All the while, my backside moved against him until he brought his other hand down to my hip. “Do you want this over before it’s begun?” His voice was all but a rumble in my ear.

  Hadn’t we started hours ago? It felt like it.

  “Is this one of those dominant things?”

  He pressed his forehead to my shoulder and buried his face into my neck. “Are you truly this innocent?”

  “No.” I didn’t really know what else to say on that one.

  His hand slid lower to dip along the seam where my thigh met my body. He brushed the curls above my center. “So wet. Is this for me?”

  My eyes crossed. Barely a touch and he expected me to own words? “You’ve been teasing me forever. What do you think?”

  He huffed out a breath that could have been a laugh. “Your mouth is probably half of why I hired you.” His tongue lashed over the lobe of my ear, and I closed my eyes against the rioting sensations. “I must be insane.”

  “Or we’re sharing a mental break.”

  “Maybe we are,” he said with a low groan.

  I echoed that sentiment when he buzzed across the triangle of hair above my slit once more.

  “Open. Let me in.”

  He was every sin I never knew I wanted.

  “You want this. Don’t pretend you don’t. At least here we can be honest.”

  I tried to grasp just what that meant, but my legs and my body had different ideas. I turned my heels just a little and widened my stance. His long fingers grazed over the apex of my thighs and sank into my heat.

  I hissed at the sounds. Wet didn’t cover it.

  Embarrassment raced up my spine and flushed my neck to my cheeks. I tried to arch away from him, but he gripped my wrists tighter, stretching me taller until my breasts and ribs were one with the glass.

  Until everything was strung tight. I closed my eyes, tripping over my breath and nerves in the same moment. I wanted this, but could I live with the memory? Knowing that it was Blake who would be the one to show me what true passion was? Would I ever sleep again?

  Or would I relive this moment again and again?

  He pinned me to the window, his watch clicking against glass as his fingers slowly glided in and out of me.

  “Open your eyes, Ms. Copeland.”

  How did he know they were closed? I dragged my eyelids up and stiffened. A flood of people were coming out of the hotel next door. Everyone seemed to be in a dress or suit.

  “So many people.” He tucked his fingers deeper inside of me, and his palm rubbed against my clit. “If they only knew what we were doing. That you’re spread out for me, clinging to this glass. So fucking wet for me.”

  My breath tripped out of my chest. No one reacted. They went on with their lives as if there was nothing going on a few steps away from them.

  A woman linked fingers with a man. She laughed up at him, then looked over her shoulder. She nodded our way and dragged the man away from the group roaming the streets. He didn’t seem to want to go until she went up on her toes and said something in his ear.

  Blake’s bearded jaw buzzed along my neck. “Is she pulling him away to do what we’re doing?” He kissed and sipped his way down my throat and shoulder. “Will she lift her skirt for him like you did for me?”

  I tried to pay attention to the couple outside the glass. They were drunk and laughing, drifting toward the building. They went deeper into the shadows along the side of the vestibule. My eyes followed them.

  He pressed her up against the glass not five feet from us. The man’s fingers gripped the corner as he spread sloppy kisses down her neck.

  “Do you like to watch?”

  I shook my head. I’d never wanted to watch before, but it was oddly fascinating to see what they did. All the while, Blake kept pulsing against my clit. He’d stopped plunging inside me, instead he stayed there—filling me up.

  What would it be like with him inside, not just his fingers?

  I moaned and shifted until his cock lined up with the cleft of my ass. He hissed against my neck as we both watched. I missed his play-by-play. The fact that I wanted to hear it again made my belly twist and my heartbeat pound between my ears.

  Outside, the man fumbled with her dress and panties as she went at his buckle like she’d never opened one before. They were laughing the entire time. I couldn’t hear them, but their faces were full of fun.

  So much different than us behind the glass.

  This wasn’t fun. It was overwhelming and brain-erasing. It was every bad idea I’d ever had magnified by a thousand percent.

  But I wanted it.

  More than sense.

  More than breath.

  More than the guilt sure to find me in the morning.

  If only he’d stop the teasing. The girl outside was definitely getting more than just that.

  I rested my forehead against the glass and whimpered as he stopped those delicious little pulses.

  “Don’t want to watch anymore, Ms. Copeland?”

  “Watch what they’re doing?” I found my air and my voice. Strengthening my words so they didn’t sound like little puffs of air. “No. I want you to do that—only better—and stop teasing me.”

  In my periphery, I saw the woman outside throw back her head, and the man pumped his hips twice more before they collapsed against each other.

  “And you better not be done that fast,” I said.

  Fourteen

  He sank his teeth into the flesh between my shoulder and neck and released my wrists. He pulled me off the glass and turned me around to face him. “Oh, it won’t be over fast.”

  I found a bit of courage somewhere in the morass of pleasure. “So you say.”

  His eyes flashed as he slowly lowered to his knees. I stared down at him, my thighs quivering in reaction. Even on his knees, he was huge.

  When I’d started this day, I definitely didn’t think this was where we’d end up.

  He shifted forward and lifted my leg, hooking it over his shoulder. His gaze never left mine as his mouth traveled along my inner thigh. His grip tightened on my waist the closer he got to my center. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move.

  I wanted to say no. It was too much, too intimate, but my body was shrieking yes and had overruled every chance at a veto. I couldn’t even give a halfhearted no. Because I really did want this. To know what mindless pleasure was. I’d never been able to let go, but then again, I’d never had a man like Blake show me there was a reason to.

  Because everything in his eyes matched the anticipation winding around my senses. And right then, I was so very happy he was so freaking tall. He trailed a teasing road from waist to breast before cupping me. His thumb brushed the underside of my nipple as his breath grew warmer the closer he got to my swollen slit.

  Breath lost to the mounting tension, I shuddered out a sob when he tugged on my nipple at the exact time that he licked me from my swollen center up to trap my clit in a ruthless suction. His body tensed and, once again, gold fire obliterated the green in his eyes.

  I didn’t know what to do with my hands. With anything.

  He seemed to want me completely on display for him, but, oh God.

  I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t remember how my lungs worked. Where the teasing had been a slow burn, this was absolute detonation. He licked and sucked
as if I was the only sustenance he ever needed.

  His other hand went around my ass to hold me still.

  I hadn’t realized I was bucking up against him. I was completely separate from my body, winding tighter and tighter until I had to be sucking up all the oxygen in the room.

  Finally, my hands wouldn’t be denied. I sank them into all his soft, thick, silky hair and tried to pull him away. He wouldn’t listen.

  He drew back for a moment, and his chin and lips glistened.

  With me.

  With what he’d been doing to me.

  But then whatever I’d thought was the definition of ruthless was replaced with the reality of Blake.

  He lashed at my clit with his tongue even as his lips kept it hidden away. The heady, overwhelming emotions turned to panic as I climbed past pleasure into the first shimmer of pain.

  I tried to inch away, but he wouldn’t let me go. Both hands fastened onto my hips, and the suction faded. The blood returned to my clit and erupted into a mind-bending release. Tears shattered me, and suddenly he was there, around me. I couldn’t breathe through the maelstrom inside me.

  It was as if he’d dragged every emotion out of me and replaced it with pleasure. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t possibly hold it.

  He scooped me up and backed into the corner of the vestibule. He slid down until we were on the floor. He’d twisted me so my body was tucked into his, my knees drawn up against me. I pressed my face into his neck. “I’m s-s-sorry. I can-n-n’t.”

  “Hush.” He draped an arm over my thighs and pulled me in tighter. “I pushed too hard.”

  I breathed in the spicy citrus scent of him, slowly calming. Shivers softened to shudders, and then the quiet sound of his heart replaced my jangling nerves.

  I don’t know how long we stayed like that. I couldn’t stop breathing him in, nor could I give up the contact. I was starved for it, and unfortunately, he was the handy recipient.

  I tried to move. His grip tightened, and he groaned.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be, Ms. Copeland.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was still hard. Had he lost that sparking need that had been firing between us? I wondered if I could get it back if that were the case. I found myself smiling into his neck. “Even after all this, you can’t call me Grace?”

  He rubbed his chin over the top of my head. “Hush now.”

  I peered down at the three buttons opened at his neck to his crooked tie. I didn’t want to analyze my reaction to him. Only I would turn a sexcapade into another reason to cry my eyeballs out.

  Instead, I inched the tail of his tie out of the perfect Windsor knot.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making you more comfortable.” I slid the tie out from his collar and draped it around my neck. Thanks to the streetlights, I could tell his watchful eyes had faded back to cool green. His eyebrows lowered, as if he needed to study me or figure me out.

  I peered up at him, conscious of the material sliding across my skin. I tugged the ends of the tie until the wider end was longer. “I admit to a fascination with ties. So many different knots.”

  His Adam’s apple jumped as I crossed the wider end over the skinny side and carefully built a knot. My heartbeat ratcheted up with each pass of the silk across my skin as I slowly formed the Eldridge knot. It was thicker and a little more complicated. It helped me focus through the nerves that were building again.

  He was so watchful.

  So very intense.

  I finished it and tugged it up closer to my neck. “See? The light sheen to your tie makes it look especially kick ass.”

  The muscle in his jaw ticked as he lightly traced the intricate folds down to the dimple in the silk under the knot. He tightened his fingers around the material and yanked me to him. “I was trying to keep myself in check.”

  My pulse rocketed. “I appreciate that, but I’m fine now.” I shifted in his lap until I knelt next to him, just a little taller than him for this one moment.

  He kept a hold of the tie and jerked me down to him. “Now isn’t the time to play.”

  “Maybe a little bit of play.” Bold now, I straddled him. His jaw was so tight it looked like it pained him. I touched the full lower lip with the tip of my tongue. Just a little taste. I licked at that mixture of hard and soft. The slash of his upper lip and the achingly smooth lower.

  His fingers trailed liquid fire between my shoulder blades to the dip at my lower back. I tucked my hand into the space where his buttons had gaped. Smooth skin. So hot and warm. Muscles rippled under my palm, and I couldn’t stop the curiosity that burned into me.

  Ink.

  So much detail.

  Too much for me to capture when his mouth was doing all those delicious things to my neck. I wanted to rip the buttons open and explore him, but he had other plans. He hissed when my hand drifted down to his buckle.

  His tattoo was forgotten in the urgency that unfolded between us. The outline of his shaft arrowed up until there was no stopping me. I definitely didn’t have to worry about his interest. I needed his skin. Needed that part of him in my hands.

  I flicked open the hook front of his dress pants. Oh, so beautifully made to create smooth lines, except now it was keeping him from me. I reached in, and there was steel under cotton waiting for me.

  The only outward reaction was how still he went.

  Then his fingers gripped my hips tighter. I needed him inside me. Needed him out of these stupid pants. At least enough for me to get him where I wanted him. I snaked into the opening of his underwear and groaned. Blood pulsed under skin as he filled my hand. I stroked him lightly, unsure what I should do.

  This was the part I was unsure of. Missionary position and the occasional spooning were pretty much the extent of my sexual knowledge. And tonight I’d learned just what a mouth felt like, and how much I wanted to revisit the whole standing thing.

  But here and now, there was Blake in my hand and a restless urge to take every part of him inside me. Skin, sweat, cock. I wanted to see him break.

  Not just watch.

  Not just get me off.

  I wanted to be the one who found his lock.

  He groaned and moved his hips restlessly.

  “Like this?” I asked and twisted lightly along the base of his shaft and stroked up.

  “Fuck.”

  I smiled when a flush branded his chest and up his neck with each caress.

  “Ms. Copeland…”

  “Grace.” I got to the top of his shaft and a drop of wetness slid over my fingers. “Say my name, Blake.”

  The shadows were lengthening, and now the street was empty. No headlights to break the spell, no people sharing the moment, no regrets riding me. All I wanted was this man to say my name. To know it was me who was in this moment with him.

  He gasped out a groan as I palmed his head and used the wetness to glide easier.

  I leaned closer, the tie and my breasts flush to his skin as I breathed against his neck and up to his ear. “Say it.” I squeezed, excited by the tensing of his muscles. Could he be strung any tighter?

  But he was frustratingly quiet.

  The rasp of his beard against my skin, the heat of him in my hand, the solid body under me—all of it drove me a little more insane. I followed instinct, listened to his breathing, and risked a look at him.

  Passion exploded between us. His fingers raked through my hair and tangled at the back. He drew my head back and feasted on my neck. He was reaching for something next to us and finally, I figured out it was his suit jacket.

  For what?

  He hadn’t let me cover up for what felt like hours.

  I whimpered when his beard abraded my neck and down my chest. The material of his slacks rubbed against my inner thighs and swollen tissues up higher. I ached. I’d heard the term before, but now I knew what it meant.

  It wasn’t exquisite or exciting—the books got it wrong there. It was unending and crazy-mak
ing. It was as if my skin didn’t fit. This kind of ache would end with madness. Worse than before, when I’d been teased within an inch of murder—that was nothing compared to how wound I was right now.

  Then I heard the crinkle of something and whispered, “Yes, thank God.”

  Condom.

  Finally.

  “Stand for me, Ms. Copeland.”

  Stand?

  Was he on drugs? My legs didn’t work right now. I was on the verge of another freaking orgasm, and he hadn’t even touched me.

  The verge, goddammit.

  “Please.”

  I shuddered out a breath at his hoarse plea. I used his shoulders to stand, my legs quivering as cramped muscles stretched, and my pins-and-needles feet regained a measure of circulation. But I wouldn’t let him see my discomfort. He already had far too much power tonight.

  His nostrils flared as he used the corner of the vestibule to get to his feet. I lifted my chin and met his gaze. My skin was flushed, and I was a moment away from screaming, but I stood there and let him look his fill.

  He walked toward me, his dress shoes on slate the only sound in our little haven. Well, the only one I could hear around the heartbeat that had climbed between my ears. I backed up. Not like there was anywhere I could go. We were in a ten-foot-by-ten-foot cage.

  My shoulders hit the opposite corner, a few feet away from the door.

  He ripped open the condom and took himself in hand.

  I swallowed.

  I’d wrapped my fingers around him, but within the shadows and folds of clothing, I hadn’t really gotten a good idea of just how…substantial he was. My fingers were small, but his were not. He looked down at himself for a second, then watched my face as he rolled the condom down his length.

  Suit pants and dark boxers framed his shaft. He wasn’t even going to take that much off?

  And yet, that’s what made it so much worse for me. I didn’t want him to. What did that say about me? That he was just an instrument of pleasure? That I was using him as he used me?

  No.

  No, Grace…that is definitely not the truth.

  I wasn’t going to just let him take control of the entire situation this time. I moved into him as if he was my own personal polarized magnet. He met me halfway and leaned down enough for me to wind my arms around his shoulders. He lifted me, and my legs went around his waist.