Boss Daddy (Hot Bosses Book 3)

by Alexa Hart

  “Just one more moment.” He tells me. I can hear a door opening in front of us, and as we glide in, the click of the lock behind us.

  “Okay, now you can open them.”

  I do as he says, letting my eyes pop open. They blur for a moment, trying to readjust to the light; but when they do, it’s magnificent.

  We are in a large empty conference room. The wall and door behind us is opaque enough that no one could see in, and the long table is filled to each edge with snacks of all kinds. Fruits, chocolates, cakes, champagne bottles. That explains why he didn’t want to get dessert. On the far end of the room there are blankets and cushions piled on the floor in a plush display that makes me want to snuggle up in them. But absolutely none of that matters, though, because the floor to ceiling glass wall that sits directly in front of us is currently displaying the most exquisite view I’ve ever seen. It is the tree in Rockefeller Center, from the middle to the top.

  I gasp, the twinkling lights rendering me at a loss for words. When I turn to Fitz, he is beaming with pride.

  “Fitz, it’s—This is… I mean, it's incredibly. How did you do all of this?” I motion to the room around us.

  “Well, I have very loyal employees, and a lot of eager to please interns.” I laugh at the joke, knowing full well that he is serious. Approaching the window, I reach a hand out to touch it, as though my fingers will somehow be met with thick pine bristles.

  Fitz comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my torso and nuzzling into my neck.

  “I’m glad you like it.” He plants a soft kiss to the sensitive skin where my neck and my shoulder meet.

  “Like it? I love it, Fitz. This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  I interrupt Fitz’s smile, catching him in a kiss. It is soft, and slow. A lazy Sunday morning kind of kiss. Fitz grips my waist, pulling my body into his as he deepens the kiss.

  His tongue dashes out, swiping along my bottom lip, before he bites the sensitive skin there. I can’t help but moan in his mouth, surprised at the sensual sound.

  Fitz takes the moan as an invitation, using it to slip his tongue into my mouth. He tastes like mint gum, and salvation. I could drink from him forever, and still be thirsty.

  “Is this okay?” Fitz asks, breaking free from me to breathe the question. He is so close that I can practically taste his breath.

  “Yes, Fitz. It’s okay. It’s all more than okay.”

  Fitz nods, taking the confirmation without question as he lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, tangling my fingers in his soft hair as he kisses me once more, this time with a newfound fervor. Fitz expertly walks around the table, to the mess of blankets and pillows, and kneels to lay us on the soft surface.

  Despite the hard, carpeted floor beneath the many blankets, all I feel is their soft cushioning. I am laying beneath Fitz now, his warm body encasing mine as he takes my mouth mercilessly. I moan into him, the sensuality of the moment dulling my other sense.

  Fitz takes the moment to disconnect, swooping down to focus his attentions on my neck. The sensitive skin prickles with each short and deliberate kiss he places there on his travels downward. By the time he reaches the top of my dress, I am squirming beneath him, and I can feel wetness soaking into my panties.

  “Oh, Fitz.” His name comes out like a moan on my tongue, and Fitz leans up to look at me. His eyes are filled to the brink with lust and adoration.

  “Say my name again.” He orders me, like a predator to his pray. As soon as I comply, I know he will pounce. And I want him to.

  “Fitz.”

  He does just as I predicted, his lips descending on mine in a possessive kiss, devouring me whole. As he does, his fingers trace up the high slit of my dress, tickling my inner thigh, teasing me. With each journey, he swipes closer and closer to where I really want him, until he is finally there. He touches me through the black cotton fabric of my panties, softly. Just swiping one tantalizing finger across my slit, then back down my leg. It is maddening.

  With his free hand, Fitz caresses my breasts through the fabric of my dress. Cupping them, gently at first, before circling my sensitive nipples with his fingertips, pinching at the rose-colored peaks that poke prominently out of the fabric, forcing them to tighten beneath his affections. I moan at the sensuous feeling. Fitz chuckles, leaning down to pull the neckline of my dress down, exposing me. I am not wearing a bra. Fitz blows on the taught peaks before taking one into his mouth. The feeling is divine. His skilled tongue laps over the sensitive skin slowly, deliberately, flattening as it goes. By the time he disconnects and switches his attentions to the other side, I am writhing beneath him. Fitz plants another welcomed kiss on my mouth, his tongue protruding through my parted lips, tasting me.

  I pull away from his lips, panting. “Fitz, it’s been… I haven’t—I haven’t done this in a while.”

  Fitz grabs my jaw gently, willing me to meet his eyes. “It’s okay, I understand. We’ll go slow.”

  I nod at him, welling up with the sweet words. Fitz’s eyes are hooded, filled with something more than just lust. He captures my lips in a sensual kiss. This one is different than before. It is intimate; slow and exploring, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of me. To coax me out of myself and into him.

  “No.” I tell him resolutely, something taking over me, “I want this. I want you, Fitz.” His gaze burns into me, questioning me for a fraction of a second before it changes, darkens, willing me to hand myself over to him. And I do. I nod, submitting to him with a kiss, and I know that after this, I will well and truly belong to him, and it is the warmest feeling in the world.

  “Mine.” He breathes into the kiss.

  The words wash over me, lifting a weight so familiar I had forgotten it was there. My held breath releases, and I let my eyes drift shut, enjoying the long-forgotten sensation of intimacy. But to be frank, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt anything like this before. The feeling of being loved by someone who truly cares for me; it isn’t vulnerable, or terrifying, it is liberating.

  My eyes remain shut, submitting to whatever sweet torture Fitz has in mind for me. His lips drift to my neck, grazing across the sensitive dip just below my ear. “Mine,” he mutters with each sensual kiss, sucking my skin into his mouth like a man on the brink of starvation.

  Leaning back, Fitz props himself on his elbows, reaching around my body to undo the zipper of my dress; it runs from the top of my back, down to the hem at my knees. When he is finished, I am one small swipe away from being naked before him, save for a pair of soaked panties. He searches my eyes for any small sign of hesitation, but there isn’t any there. With a satisfied smile, Fitz lifts the fabric from my body, and I am naked before him. With me, entirely exposed, and him, still cloaked in his full suit, I feel impossibly small and needy. Fitz’s eyes devour me, admiring me, his hands ghosting over my hips, teasing me.

  “Please.” I whisper, so low I’m not even sure he heard me.

  Leaning into the crook of my neck, Fitz takes a deep breath to calm himself, his hands gripping my waist impossibly tight. I take advantage of his small distracted moment, using the opportunity to unbutton his dress shirt and push it from his shoulders. Fitz sits up, shrugging the offending material off of his body in one swift move. As though he can read my next thoughts, he removes his belt, unbuttoning his slacks just enough that I can see a peek of his black briefs beneath them.

  He leans back down to kiss me, urgently, this time. His fists ball in my hair, pulling me impossibly closer to him. I run my cool fingers down the length of his torso, marveling at the hard, flat muscle I find there. When I get to the small line of dark hair the lines the pathway to him, I pause for a moment, unsure. But Fitz nibbles on my bottom lip, igniting me with a fiery need that only he can satisfy. Trailing downwards, I reach into his slacks, gripping him. He is impossibly huge; his hard cock twitches in my tiny hand as I stroke him, running a finger over the sensitive spot just under his tip, earning a growl from
deep in his chest. Fitz grips my hair painfully hard in response. The anticipation of finally being with him is beginning to overtake me, filling my lungs with moans until I can no longer catch my breath. Reaching down, Fitz sinks two fingers into me without warning. They enter me with ease, pumping in and out of my core with slow, deliberate motions. The feeling is incredible, but it isn’t enough. Small whimpers escape my lips, a chorus of sexual frustration and pure desperation.

  Finally, Fitz lifts his head to look in my eyes, his face painfully serious as the fingers of his free hand dig into my hips, surely going white. The other hand doesn't slow for a second.

  “I don’t want to be gentle.” He said it almost as a question.

  “So don’t be.” I was not asking, I was pleading.

  With that, Fitz nods at me, kissing me once more before flipping me, throwing me against the cushions on my stomach, kissing the nape of my neck as he climbs on top of me. Arching my back into him, I grant him easy access to my soaking center. Fitz finds it once more, sinking two fingers into me from behind. They pump in and out of me impossibly fast, eliciting moan after moan from my lips.

  “Oh Fitz.” I moan his name.

  His warm lips suckle my ear lobe for a moment, before disconnecting to whisper a delicious warning.

  “We can play more next time, for now I’m sorry. I’ve been imagining this for so long, and I need you.” With that he clamps his hand over my mouth, the one that had just been inside of me, and another around my throat, and he thrusts so deeply into me I scream. He didn't go slow. He did check to see if I could take him; he didn’t have to. I’ve been dripping since we left the estate, and the evidence was all over his fingers, and leaking all over the soft blankets under us. Fitz forces those fingers into my mouth, breathing into my ear orders to lick them clean. I’d have thought the order was repulsive, had it come from anyone else’s mouth. From Fitz, though, I find the words to be impossibly sensuous. I do as I’m told, licking myself from his fingers, sucking them until they are clean, and moaning at the taste. I wonder how we’d taste mixed together. Fitz settles into a merciless pace, barreling into me with unprecedented speed. I collapse into the cushions beneath him, no longer able to hold the arch in my back, the length of him proving to be almost too much. But it didn’t matter. His thrusts never slowed, warming me from the inside out. God, I love this feeling. This tantalizing thrill of being so utterly owned, at his mercy; his to protect and worship. Fitz brushes kisses along the back of my neck as he takes me, whispering sweet nothings in me ear.

  “You’re so exquisite, beautiful. You feel so fucking good around me.”

  I’ve never felt such pleasure. Maybe it’s how long I’ve wanted to feel him inside me, or maybe it's the thrill of being taken by someone so pure, but in only minutes, I am on the brink of explosion. The warmth is spreading from my stomach to my toes, causing my legs to shake uncontrollably beneath Fitz’s.

  “I’m going to come.” I tell Fitz between moans, muttering the words against his palm. Somehow, he hears me.

  “No, you’re not. Wait until I say so, beautiful.” I whimper at the impossible order. How could I do that?

  With a few more thrusts, my entire body is shaking beneath him.

  Fitz’s palm is still clamped tightly against my mouth, muffling my moans as he rides me. I bite into the soft skin there, causing him to lift his hand, tangling it in my hair and pulling as punishment. Not enough to actually hurt, but just a warning. With my neck strained at this angle, I catch a glimpse of his beautiful face.

  “God, please.” I moan, begging him to let me have my release. A strained growl escaped his lips in response, his thrusts slowing ever so slightly. In response, they became unforgiving. Slamming into me so hard I yelp with every one. I reach my hand around to pull him into my neck, and he breathes a whisper to me.

  “Be a good girl for me. Give in to me, beautiful.” His voice was so sensual he could have whispered anything and that would have been it. He didn’t even have to ask; I am already so damn close, and I do so want to be good for him. He is too, I can feel it. I can feel him twitching inside me, his balls growing tighter with each thrust.

  In just a few short moments, we are both coming. Fitz bites into my shoulder with the intensity of his release. It isn’t hard, but it is enough to mark me, and somehow, I know that's what he wanted. I scream his name into the cushions, and even with the muffling, I’m sure the entire building could hear me. Fitz stayed still on top of me for a moment, spent and heaving, before finally pulling up and rolling to pull my body into him, so he could spoon me.

  The unfamiliar feeling of him pulling out of me was unbearable; uncomfortable. It felt wrong, like he belonged inside me forever.

  Planting a sweet kiss on the back of my neck, Fitz closed his arms around me, snuggling me closer to his body. Flipping over to face him, I am overwhelmed with emotion; his dark eyes swim with adoration, and I am sure mine are mirroring the same reactions.

  “If I am yours, that means you are mine, okay?” I pose the phrase as a question, but it really isn’t one. We’ve given ourselves to each other tonight, and I think we both know there is no going back from it.

  Fitz nods, brushing a kiss against my waiting lips, before murmuring into my mouth.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Chapter 14

  Alex

  It’s been a few weeks since mine and Fitz’s trip to the city. Though the winter holidays have come and gone, Fitz has kept the lights up in the garden, with promises that they will remain year-round.

  I moved into his suite immediately after getting back, not even bothering to grab any of my things. Slowly, Winnie has fit most of my belongings into Fitz’s closet, but it’s still a work in progress.

  Right now, Fitz is off somewhere on the grounds, playing with Ella for a few minutes before John drives her to her grandparent’s house. Jo’s parents. Fitz hasn’t told me everything about her, but he’s opened up more and more. He’s been busy with work all week, and I think he’s felt guilty about the lack of father-daughter bonding time, but this trip has been planned for a while, and he couldn’t cancel it. I don’t mind his current absence, though, it gives me a chance to break in Fitz’s lavish bathtub that I’m sure he never uses.

  Turning the spout all the way to red, I silently hope the heat will ease the soreness of my muscles. Ella has taken to playing tag, and her newfound love for the game has me running all over the house, up and down the stairs all day. I pour a generous amount of Fitz’s musky bodywash into the steady stream of water, marveling at how quickly the bubbles begin to form at the bottom of the basin. Sprinkling in some Epsom salts, and essential oils for good measure, I turn the spout once more, to a more reasonable temperature. The room saturates with the deliciously soothing scent of sandalwood and vanilla. I roll my neck, eliciting a few very prominent cracks, excited to sink into the relaxing heat of the water, and begin to light the candles I’ve planted on every discernable surface of the room. If I’m being honest, this tub is my favorite thing in the entire house; I’ve been longing to sink into it since the first time I laid eyes on it. There’s just something about baths. Relaxing and secluded.

  And just like that, the sound of the door opening in the bedroom pulls me from my thoughts. Putting the lighter down, I tighten the sash on my robe and wander into the room in search of the person who dared interrupt my peace.

  A familiar handsome face greets me, putting me at ease.

  “I thought you were with Ella?” Fitz pulls me into a kiss, wrapping a strong arm around my waist, his free hand instinctively reaching for the knot that holds my robe closed.

  “She just left.” He explains, mumbling the words into my lips as he tugs on the robe, freeing the sash and exposing my naked body to his prying touch.

  “You were about to shower?” He leans back to ask.

  “Bath, actually.” I tell him, “do you want to join me?” The question isn't really necessary, by the mischievou
s grin on his face, I knew he’d say yes.

  Locking the bedroom door behind him, I grip Fitz’s hand, leading him into the warm bathroom. It smells like heaven in here, the relaxing aromas only punctuated by the soft golden light the candles emit.

  Fitz grabs the discarded lighter, tending to the extra candles I hadn't gotten to yet as I adjust the water temperature to my liking. When it is finally perfect, I let a small sigh escape my lips; there is nothing more satisfying than a perfectly drawn bath.

  He approaches me from behind, encircling me in his arms. The embrace is meant to be comforting, but the atmosphere lends it an entirely different meaning. I allow my hands to drift towards his arms, holding him squarely in place.

  For one tiny moment, the devil flickers across my mind. He used to bathe me, like this. Carrying me bridal style into the tub, scrubbing me with the loofa as though the soap would wash away the bruises he inflicted. I shake the bitter memories from my head. That was then. That isn’t real now. The only thing that's real, in this moment, is Fitz, and his arms around me, his lips on my neck.

  I lean back into him, letting myself enjoy the sweet sensations that accompany his touch. Fitz’s hands are firm, but gentle as they remove my robe. He spins me to face him, his hands grazing up my torso, and over my shoulders, pushing the robe from me in one swift, skilled movement. It falls to the ground, a pile of pink fluff around my feet, and I am naked before him.

  Before going any further, his eyes meet mine in a silent request for consent. I cast him a small nod, smiling at the sweet gesture. Not many men would even think to ask. With that, Fitz resumes his attentions. Allowing his fingertips to trail up the side of my ribcage, then lightly atop my breasts. They trail across my collar bone, teasing the sensitive skin there. The way Fitz looks at me, his eyes locked in a dance of admiration and worship, the emotions only growing deeper as I begin to undress him.

  Fitz has the most amazing body I’ve ever seen, on anyone. Man or woman. Every inch of him is pure, flat muscle. It isn’t in a gross, over done sort of way, but in a Grecian sort of way. Like someone had traveled to the Louvre and cracked open one of their precious sculptures to find Fitz inside. His skin is tanned and flawless, and he has a smattering of dark hair strewn across his chest.