Man in Charge, Book 1

by Laurelin Paige

  “It’s not what I’d call a relationship at all, honestly.” He was evasive, his eyes shifting everywhere.

  The truth was apparent, but I had to know, once and for all. “Have you slept with her?”

  A guilty grin broke out across his face. “I’ve fucked her. Yes.”

  “Figured as much.” I was suddenly grateful that Kendra’s separation of jobs and men went both ways, otherwise I’d be worried he knew more about me and my position at Conscience Connect than he let on.

  Actually, even if Kendra were less of a compartmentalist, I probably wouldn’t be that worried about it because I was too preoccupied with the fact that Scott had indeed fucked my boss. That Kendra had been naked with him before I had. That, as always, she got first dibs, and I was left with the scraps.

  Not that any of my interactions with Scott could be equated to scraps.

  “Does it bother you?” His eyes twinkled, as though he found the question amusing.

  I wasn’t sure if I exactly understood it. “Bother?”

  “I thought it would be easier to admit to being bothered than jealous.”

  It pricked at me because it was so spot-on. I hated that he could see me so clearly.

  So, of course, I deflected. “You really think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”

  “I think it’s actually an indication of what I think about you. What I hope about you.” His hand was back, just a finger this time, tracing along the strap of my dress, sending a shiver down my spine.

  How could I resist when he touched me? “I’m a little jealous.”

  “Good. I’m glad.”

  I wanted to ask more about his fucking/non-relationship with Kendra—how long it had gone on, when it ended, who’d broken it off with whom—but I also didn’t want to know.

  Besides, it didn’t matter in the moment because she was who knows where, wrapped up in herself while I was here, with Scott wrapped up in me.

  “I don’t want to talk about Kendra anymore,” I said, leaning in.

  “I hope you don’t want to talk at all.”

  “I don’t.” But my words were lost to the mind-numbing, delicious pressure of his kiss.

  Eighteen

  Kissing became more than kissing pretty fast, as was to be expected considering our track record. Even so, it wasn’t as urgent as usual, which made sense since we weren’t in a car or an office or a conference room. We knew there was time, so the only thing rushing us was our need, and need now was as much about exploring as it was about getting to the climax.

  While it became more than kissing—hands wandering, hips grinding—the kissing didn’t stop. We really hadn’t done much kissing before this, and he seemed as uneager to rush it as I was. He lingered on my mouth, his tongue moving in and out at a languid pace, taunting me with promises of how he intended to treat me with his cock. How he intended to fuck me slowly and well and thoroughly.

  When he eventually moved from my lips, he trailed kisses elsewhere, on my face, on my neck, on my collarbone, not only tasting but savoring each part of my body. I found myself torn between trying to learn him as well and simply enjoying what he was doing to me. I fought to do both at first, sneaking in nibbles at his ear, then throwing my head back in ecstasy as his hand fondled my breast. Discovering he really liked it when I bit his neck, and then letting him see how much I liked it in return.

  Soon, I was too overwhelmed with sensation to concentrate on delivering my best self, and I surrendered to being completely and utterly ravished.

  “I’m dying to see these,” he said after sucking my nipple to a sharp point underneath the silk dress. I’d had to go sans bra because of the open back, which had almost made me change my mind about wearing that outfit at all. Now I was glad since I knew the added layer of material would have diminished this particular moment.

  Though, of course, I could always lose the dress all together.

  But not yet. I wasn’t ready to move from this spot to make that happen, and I was admittedly greedy for the same attention on the other breast.

  “You’ve seen them,” I reminded him. I turned slightly, offering it up to his mouth, an invitation he took readily. “I woke up naked in your bed last time, and I do not believe I was the one who undressed me.”

  “Mm.” The hum of the sound vibrated against my breast, shooting sparks of ecstasy to my pussy. He persisted with his sucking for so long I almost forgot what we’d been talking about when he spoke again. “I kept my eyes closed.”

  I laughed. “You did not.”

  “I might have peeked.” He clamped his teeth around my nipple and pulled, turning my laugh into a gasp of pleasure. “Definitely not enough time to truly appreciate them. I’m going insane imagining them bare and primed like this.”

  “Then maybe you should do something about that.” I started to roll over so that he could access the zipper at my lower back, but he stopped me.

  “While I am entirely into your esteem for exhibitionism, I have to insist that you keep them put away out here. We have privacy for the most part, but there has been an occasional shot taken from the paparazzi.” His mouth moved south, loitering at my belly button when he found it.

  The threat of paparazzi momentarily threw me out of the zone as it reminded me of how different our worlds were. Kendra had a swanky balcony, and even she wasn’t of the kind of money that precluded sunbathing nude.

  But it was a very small moment of distraction. Because the threat of paparazzi was kind of exciting. I definitely didn’t want to be photographed for all the world with my bits hanging out, but to think that we were potentially being watched? It was as hot on his balcony as it had been against the window in his office building.

  I played the idea up in my head. “So you want to see me naked, but you’re resisting from tearing my clothes off because of the need to protect me?” It didn’t matter that I was a woman who could take care of herself—I would always get off on a man defending my honor. “Something like that?”

  “Exactly like that.”

  I moaned, the details of this fantasy heightening my need.

  “I know, Tessa. I’m going to take care of you.”

  God, it was like he could read my mind.

  He slunk lower, his head blocking the view to any potential onlookers as he pushed my dress up around my waist. “Once again, no panties, no bra. You seem to like to make this easy for me.”

  “I prefer not to add to your collection of women’s underwear.”

  He rubbed his nose down my slit, inhaling as he did. “I don’t collect women’s underwear.”

  I made a sound that was half harumph and half ohmygod, ohmygod because he very obviously did collect women’s underwear, but it was hard to argue anything with him when his tongue was doing that thing it was to my hole.

  He seemed to discern my disbelief anyway. “I don’t. I collect your underwear. That’s all.”

  This statement was even more unbelievable than the last, and I propped myself up on my elbows, ready to dispute it. It was definitely not the kind of comment I could leave without remark. He was a player. I knew that going in. I was okay with it going in. I would not be okay with it if he pretended this thing between us was anything other than it was.

  Actually, I might not be okay in the end even if he acknowledged the truth of the situation, but that was on me, not him, and the only chance I had of not getting completely wrecked over him was if he remained as transparent as possible.

  But now his finger was tracing the rim of my pussy and his tongue was flicking at my clit, and talking wasn’t an option, let alone reprimanding.

  Leisurely, he wound me up, alternately sucking and licking my swollen bud of nerves while his finger dipped in and out of my hole. Soon it was two fingers, thrusting in farther, rubbing at the sensitive spot inside me, all of it so agonizingly slow that the build in tension felt like hiking up a mountain. I could feel myself getting there, could feel the throb of my pussy increase and my thighs start to shake, c
ould feel my orgasm creeping, creeping toward the summit.

  Just when I thought I’d go over, he pulled back. “I thought I’d imagined how good your pussy tasted. But I did not.”

  “I think that’s a compliment, so thank you. Could you go back to tasting now?”

  He chuckled as I bucked my hips up toward his mouth, but he did as I asked and went back to work. It was practically starting over now. The brief interruption had sent me back to ground zero. Fortunately, he lapped at me more eagerly this time, helping the tension build quicker.

  But just as before, right when I was about to go over the top, he paused to look up at me. And with a grin that said his torture was purposeful.

  “What are you doing?” I could hear the frantic edge to my voice.

  In comparison, his was casual. “Teasing you.”

  He blew softly across my wet pussy, sending a round of shocks through my body. I couldn’t take it. It was too much. Or it was not enough. It was too much not enough.

  I pushed out of his arms and scrambled to my feet and headed toward his bedroom, picking up the shoes I’d kicked off earlier on my way. A few steps away from the door, I paused to reach behind me and unzip my dress, giving him a nice view of my ass. I peeked my head over my shoulder to be sure he was watching.

  He was.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, an edge in his tone now.

  “Teasing you,” I said, then pushed open the sliding door of his bedroom that had been hidden behind the blackout curtains the last time I’d been there, and stepped inside.

  He must have run because he was right behind me when I turned around. Dropping my shoes, I threw my arms around his neck and brought his mouth to mine. His hands circled around my waist and slipped past the open zipper of my dress. Grabbing my ass, he brought me flush against him so I could feel the jutting column of steel flesh against my belly.

  I was ready to have that inside me. More than ready. His attention below had left my pussy aching and empty and desperate to be filled with the real thing.

  But as eager as I was to have him pushing inside of me, I suddenly realized I was dying to see him. I’d become acquainted with his cock, not just from the times he’d fucked my pussy, but also from the time he’d fucked my mouth, but except for the one glimpse I’d gotten when I tried to sneak out of his apartment the first time, I was still a stranger to the rest of the body that he kept hidden under well-fitted suits.

  Intending to remedy that, I began working at the buttons of his shirt. I’d only managed to pop a couple of them open before he grabbed my hands to stop me.

  “I want to see you.” Desperation made it sound close to a whine.

  He kissed me, as if that would appease the desire to see and touch and lick and claim. “You will. But I was such a good boy the last time you were here, I think I deserve to see you first.”

  I wasn’t sure that was very logical. He’d peeked, and I hadn’t gotten to see him at all. Shouldn’t it be my turn to see some goods? It seemed only fair.

  On the other hand, the way he was looking at me—like he was barely restraining himself, like he was going to eat me up whether I obeyed him or not—made me abruptly lose all care for what was fair.

  “If you want to see so badly, I suppose I better show you.” I nudged him toward the bed. “Sit.”

  He seemed maybe not so interested in letting me run things, but he did as I said, undoing the buttons at his cuffs as he sat. “I’m waiting.”

  I took a step back so he would be able to see all of me clearly, then I pushed one strap off my shoulder than the other, letting my dress fall to the floor. Leaving me completely naked.

  It was only after I’d made such a deal of stripping that I remembered I wasn’t this bold of a person. I certainly wasn’t this confident in my body. Especially being completely nude.

  But Scott Sebastian had a way of making me feel wanted, no change necessary, exactly as I was.

  Obviously “exactly as I was” wasn’t the person Scott assumed I was, but I wasn’t going to dwell on that bit at the moment.

  Instead, I focused on his gaze, full of hunger as naked as I was. His eyes took their time, moving over every inch of my body, lingering at the tips of my breasts, at the swell of my hips, at the curve of my thighs.

  He cleared his throat. “That was worth waiting for.” His voice was gruff as he stroked his palm across the bulge in his pants. “Come here.”

  I walked into the opening between his knees. His hands gripped my hips and brought me closer so he could bury his face in my breasts. “I could suck these all night.”

  “As long as you’re naked when you do, I don’t see any problem with it.”

  He was too busy touching and licking and exploring to respond, and when he did talk, it was to praise and compliment and speak dirty about my body.

  So I took it upon myself to get him undressed.

  While he bit along the bottom of my breast, I went back to unbuttoning his shirt. Surprisingly, he cooperated, relinquishing his hold on me with one hand at a time so he could pull his arms out. The shirt fell open on the bed, revealing glimpses of hard planes and toned muscles. It was hard to get the view I wanted when he was still so committed to adoring me.

  I decided on another tactic. “I need this inside of me,” I said, rubbing his cock through his pants. “Please, Scott. I want you so badly it hurts.”

  Then I climbed onto his lap, straddling him so that my pussy pressed against his length. I rocked back and forth, the feel of his heat and his hardness distracting me from my desire to see him naked. I really did need him inside of me. It really did hurt.

  On my next rock back, his hands shot to my waist and stopped me. I followed his gaze down to the wet spot I’d left on his pants. “Look what you did. Fuck, Tessa, that’s hot.”

  Uh, yeah. It was really, really fucking hot.

  Abruptly, he flipped me off his lap and to the bed. I scurried higher up the mattress, keeping my eyes pinned on him while he toed off his shoes and took off his pants and boxer briefs at the same time.

  Then he stood there. He stood there, cock in hand, pumping it back and forth while he once again devoured me with his gaze.

  And finally, I devoured him as well.

  God, he was a work of art. He couldn’t be any more perfect if he’d been chiseled out of clay. His chest was immaculately sculpted. He had that V-thing going on at his hips, and I’d never fully comprehended what a six-pack was until seeing it now. His legs weren’t to be outdone. He was long and lean, his thighs strong and toned. He obviously worked out. And ate well. Two things I barely ever took the time to incorporate in my life, which made me feel a little guilty in the moment, but mostly really damn lucky. And he wasn’t bodybuilder fit with muscles that looked like they were trying too hard. They looked more like muscles earned from living an active life.

  Considering that I knew Scott spent most of his day behind a desk, he’d definitely had to hit the gym to get the look. Whoever his trainer was, I hoped he was paid well because holy shit he deserved it.

  Which took me back to feeling guilty because I didn’t deserve it. I’d lied to him—hadn’t I? I’d at least outright omitted information about my position at Conscience Connect. I’d let him believe I had authority that I did not have. I didn’t deserve this good thing. I didn’t deserve to see his glorious body. I didn’t deserve to get pleasure from that fantastic cock. I didn’t deserve to have my panties in his collection, a collection full of only my panties, nobody else’s, if that were to be believed, and of course like the fucking idiot that I was, I stupidly believed.

  Deserve it or not, I was here, and I wasn’t about to walk out.

  No, what I was about to be was fucked.

  While I’d been ogling, Scott had dug a condom from his bedside table and had ripped it open with his teeth. Without moving his eyes from me, he unrolled it over his cock. “You ready for me, Tessa? Ready to be fucked in a bed?”

  I was definitely ready fo
r the fucking.

  But I didn’t think I was ready for him at all. Wasn’t ready for any of the ways Scott Sebastian was changing me or for any of the feelings he was making me feel.

  Since he didn’t care about what was going on in my head, and definitely not what was going on in my heart, I answered with, “Yes. I’m ready.”

  Being fucked in a bed by Scott wasn’t a whole lot different than being fucked in his office or in his conference room. And it was completely different at the same time. He still felt the same inside me. He still moved at a punishing pace. He still spoke dirty words as he split me apart with his masterful cock.

  But he also gave more attention to the previously neglected parts of my anatomy. His hands and mouth were all over me. And while his thrusts came fast, the entirety of the act was not fast at all. The man had stamina, and he knew how to move himself—how to move me—so that he hit new places inside of me, some that I hadn’t known existed before.

  He was also more occupied with my reactions than he had been during our quickies. More focused on how I felt. He’d always made me come, of course, but this was more than about just orgasm.

  “How do I feel right there?” he’d ask now. “How does this feel like that? Does it make you feel good? Does this make you feel better?”

  His questions weren’t just concerned with how his cock was hitting me but how other things felt as well. He wanted to know if I preferred sucking or nipping on my breast. If it felt good when he pinched my clit. If I liked it when he spanked my ass. As though he were learning me for later. As though he intended this to go on.

  That wasn’t the way sex had been with players in the past. Live in the moment was the usual motto. Feel good now. No reason to discover a person’s preference if you weren’t planning to fuck them for very long.

  This man...This man was doing a real number on my head.

  Countless orgasms later, including two for Scott, I collapsed on the bed while he disappeared to the bathroom to clean up. I was boneless and wrought out. I swore every muscle in my body had been used. If I closed my eyes, I knew I’d be asleep in a heartbeat.