The Boss

by Abigail Barnette

  Then he stopped, his hand resting in exactly the right place, doing exactly the wrong thing. No movement, no penetration, no friction, and I screamed my frustration into the duvet.

  He did spank me then, harder than the last times, and I couldn’t help my cry of mingled pain and fulfilled anticipation.

  “I told you to keep quiet.” His fingers withdrew, and with that hand he grabbed my hair and wound a length of it around his fist, jerking my head back. He balled up my sopping panties and pushed them against my mouth.

  I had no illusions as to what he was going to do with those panties. I could smell my arousal on them, knew that his fingers were still smeared with my juices even as they tangled in my hair. Never in my life had I felt so dirty, so utterly nasty and depraved. I'd also never been so fucking turned on. I groaned, "Green," and he pushed my panties into my mouth.

  "Remember the signal,” he reminded me, opening and closing his palm before my eyes.

  He spanked me again, the sound of his skin on mine making a resounding crack in the quiet hotel room. His fingers pushed into my cunt, and I clenched around him. I was going to come. There was no doubt in my mind. My body was on fire, my hips bucking, a high, thin wail building up in me. All of the thick, hot feelings in my pussy merged into one wave of sensation, and just as the wave was about to crest, he stopped.

  "Not yet, Sophie."

  I shuddered, physically stopping myself from tumbling over a precipice. My toes curled. Calves cramped. I wanted to climax, needed it like I needed air. I supposed I could still come; I was so close that a deliberate arousing thought would tip the scales. But it wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying as obeying orders and seeing exactly how far he would take this.

  "Stand up."

  My clit ached with longing. He wasn't going to finish me off? A hysterical sob welled in my chest as I got to my feet, but his intent became clear when he said, "Get on your hands and knees in the middle of the bed."

  I did as I was told, breathing hard through my nose. A drop of perspiration trembled on my lip, and my mouth was slightly open to accommodate the balled-up panties inside.

  I stayed still on the bed while he went to the nightstand for a condom. I listened, my hearing crazily tuned into his movements, his position in the room. I heard his breathing speed up just a moment before he knelt on the bed behind me. Then his hands fell to my hips, pulling me back. My flesh was swollen and slick, and he rubbed the wide tip of his cock up and down my slit a few times, coating the latex that covered him until it was good and slippery. He nudged my clitoris once, twice, and I tried to push back, but his hand on the small of my back stopped me.

  "I'm going to fuck you, Sophie," he said, pushing against my opening. "And I'm going to let you come."

  I whimpered. I needed my release so badly. Our stolen moment at the office hadn't been nearly enough to make up for the long, frustrating weekend. When the head of him stretched me, I groaned and pushed back. That only caused him to withdraw entirely.

  "But I'm going to take my time."

  My shoulders sagged, and my forehead touched the bed. All I could do was hold perfectly still and hope – praying the most profane prayer possible – that he would just get it over with and make me come already.

  He pushed inside halfway, and my breath made a strangled sound in my throat. I took him in with an ease that surprised me, like I had been custom fitted to handle his length, his girth. He slid out, and I clutched at him with my internal muscles. Then, he thrust forward and buried himself in me so deeply I gasped.

  "Shall I stop?" He sounded concerned, and I knew he wasn't teasing, but really inquiring as to my well being. He leaned over my back, still hard inside of me, and reached to pull the panties from my mouth.

  "Please, Sir, don't stop," I panted, my voice hoarse. My mouth had dried out with the handful of rayon that had been stuffed in it.

  "You remember the words?” His anxiety was apparent. I wondered if he'd been with someone who hadn't used the safe word, or if he just didn't trust me to remember because of my inexperience.

  "Neil, I promise," I said through gritted teeth. "Please, just fuck me."

  He slapped my ass with a growl.

  Neil Elwood growls during sex. There's a quote for Forbes.

  The butterflies in my stomach rioted and my hands fisted in the bedding. I held my breath as he rammed hard into me, then withdrew and slammed in again. One of his hands slid from my hip down to my cleft, seeking out my clit. He stroked me in rough circles and I couldn't decide whether I wanted to push against his hand or back on his cock. Cold sweat broke out on my flushed skin. I panted in time to his thrusts, until I was practically hyperventilating. The release he'd denied me for so long built up again, and this time it wouldn't be denied. I raced toward the peak, breathless, unintelligible sounds bursting from my lips.

  "Tell me, Sophie. Tell me what you're feeling." He grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling my head back.

  I didn't recognize my own desperate, raw voice as I screamed, "I'm coming." He slammed hard against me, as deep as he could go. My legs shook, my arms trembled with exhaustion. Every millimeter of my skin flared with raw, sexual response. Everything was too much; his hands, his cock, the sweat dripping off my nose, the cramps in my feet as my toes clenched and released rhythmically with my orgasm.

  I was vaguely aware of the brush of his tongue across my spine before he groaned, "I love to feel you come. Let’s do it again, shall we?"

  Still on fire, still reeling and dizzy from release, I could not escape his touch. He pinched my clitoris and held it, slowly pulled his body back to rock the head of his cock against my g-spot.

  "Right there. Oh right there, oh please, oh god, yes," I babbled as I raced toward another climax, tilting my hips with his shallow thrusts. It was torture. He was just barely inside of me. My muscles clenched, holding his cock tight against that sensitive patch, and as I burned toward release with shrill gasps, he let go of my clit. My blood pounded back into the enflamed flesh, and that was all it took to make me spasm all around him, screaming, sobbing.

  I couldn't take anymore, I realized with a shiver of sensation as he sank into me. He'd told me he wouldn't stop until I begged him. So, I begged him. "Please, Sir. No more."

  He withdrew slowly. "Take the pillow. Put it on the floor and kneel on it."

  Gooseflesh stood out all over my body. I rose on quivering legs and did as I was told, dropping the pillow on the floor at the foot of the bed. I knelt on it, and looked up at him expectantly as he stood before me.

  He rolled the condom off and tossed it on the bed, then rubbed the massive head of his cock against my lips. “You only came twice, Sophie.”

  “It was a little too intense, Sir,” I murmured, my tongue slipping out to touch the tight, satiny skin of his cock.

  “Oh, then you are in trouble.” He took a breath as I ran my tongue over the slit in his tip. “Because nothing would give me more pleasure than to make you come over and over, with no let up, until you were screaming and sobbing and begging me to stop. Would you like that?”

  “Fuck yes, Sir. Just as long as you don’t expect me to walk after.” My thighs trembled with exhaustion at the mere thought of what one more orgasm would have done to me.

  I took him in my fist and pumped his length, slowly rolling his foreskin up and then back. I wet my lips and leaned forward to take just his tip into my mouth. Neil's hand fell on my head, not to urge me along, but to thread through my hair. He exerted no pressure, just held on, and his reaction emboldened me. I circled him with my tongue, slipping between the sensitive glans and the ridge of skin I glided back and forth. Then I dove down the length of him, taking him as deeply as I could.

  He groaned, his hips rocking just a little in time to the bobbing of my mouth on him. I lightly raked the nails of my unoccupied hand down the back of his thigh and sucked him slowly, my tongue swirling round and round. I loved how strangely intimate a blowjob could be, almost more so than interc
ourse. I loved knowing that there was no possible way my partner could be thinking of anything else. The pleasure I took in performing the act made me feel almost selfish.

  I tilted my head slightly up, the flat of my tongue lapping the underside of his cock. Neil watched my every move. When we made eye contact, I held it, knowing I was the focus of his entire world. A renewed rush of desire flooded through me at the heat I saw in his eyes.

  Slowly and steadily, I kept my hand squeezing and stroking, my lips sliding up and down his length as far as I could. I cupped his balls and felt them draw up, heavy and hot in my hand. The telltale hitch in his breathing, the tight grip he had on my hair, all of it clued me in that he wasn't going to be much longer. I slightly sped up my efforts, and he groaned, "Oh god," before his cock jerked and a burst hit the roof of my mouth. It took me a second to react and swallow, but I did, and then again, and again, before I finally released him.

  He let go of my hair and offered me a hand up. I took it, giggling, "I need to get a drink of water."

  He briefly pulled me into his arms, planting a quick kiss on my cheek. As I headed to the bathroom, he swatted my behind, and I snickered to myself.

  When I came back after rinsing my mouth and using the facilities, Neil was in bed, sitting half-up against the mountain of lush, comfy pillows. I looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Quarter to eleven.

  "I should probably..." I didn't want to finish my sentence, because it sounded an awful lot like I was trying to fuck and run. And I was, but I had work in the morning.

  "No, come here. Just for a minute," he urged, patting the bed beside him. "I don’t want you to go home and have another drop.”

  A part of me still thought I could leave and feel fine, but the other part of me remembered the way I'd burst into tears in his office earlier that day and how shitty I had felt. He was right; the whole Domination/submission thing really could mess with my head if I wasn’t careful. I decided to follow his lead on this one.

  "How's your bum?" he asked as I slid in next to him. The sheets were crisp and clean and felt amazing on my naked skin.

  I smiled and shook my head. "Bum? And it's fine. I'll definitely feel it tomorrow." At his look of concern, I quickly added, "But that was the point, wasn't it? I like to feel totally fucked? Especially since we don't get together that often."

  "We could see each other more frequently, if you wanted to," he suggested as I settled in at his side. I rested my head on his shoulder, and he put his arm around my back.

  I snuggled down, letting his body warm mine. "I thought we weren't doing serious. Seeing each other a lot seems..."

  "It doesn't have to be serious." He kissed the top of my head. "We see each other every day at work, after all."

  "Hey, about that?" I rolled onto my side, so I could look him in the eye. "Deja totally knows something is going on."

  His hand, previously stroking my upper arm, stilled. "What do you mean?"

  "She mentioned it to me. She asked how long we'd worked together, and then she made some comment about the way you look at me." I nibbled my lower lip. "She says you're always looking at me."

  "I work with you. How can I do that without occasionally looking at you?" he asked, a note of defensiveness creeping into his voice. Then he sighed in resignation. "All right. I have noticed my eyes straying unnecessarily. I'll work on that. And we’ll avoid further... contact in the office.”

  The bed was ridiculously comfortable, and I felt myself sinking deeper into it with every heartbeat. "Where are we going to meet when you move out of this place?"

  "It seems unfair that I’m forcing you to come to me, but you have your roommate..." He hesitated. "We could keep our tradition of doing nasty things in hotel rooms. Or are you averse to coming to my apartment?"

  "No, I just wanted to make sure you're comfortable with that." I shrugged. "And I can see why you wouldn't want to come to my place. It's kind of small."

  "Would you be uncomfortable if I were to come over?" he asked, resuming his slow stroking of my shoulder and back.

  Good question. How would I deal with having Neil in my space, where I lived every day? That made things a little too personal, didn't it? On the other hand... "Actually, it would be awesome to go to sleep right after sex, instead of getting in a cab."

  "You never have to leave. I would never throw you out." His foot rubbed against my ankle beneath the blankets, and I couldn't help my smile. "As casual as we may be about it, this is still a relationship. I don't ever want you to feel used or objectified. I do care about you and your feelings, Sophie."

  A knot in my chest, one I had never noticed was there, eased at his words. Even though my rational mind thought better of Neil, some part of me that had never dealt with trust all that well had been doubting him, without my ever knowing it.

  A physical shiver of relief went through me, and he hugged me closer, asking in concern, "Are you all right?"

  "Yeah, I'm great. I'm better than great." I leaned up and kissed him, a playful peck to let him know everything really was okay, then reluctantly rolled away from him. “That was amazing.”

  “That is just the tip of the iceberg,” he said with a grin.

  I lay there, letting him play with my hair, on the verge of dozing. Something important pricked at my brain. It took me a moment to figure out what was bothering me. When I did, I had a hard time phrasing it. I started uncertainly, “Hey... when we’re together like this... you don’t have to always remind me of the safe word. I mean, I appreciate it, since I’m new at this. But I promise I’ll use it. I’m not stupid.”

  His big palm rested against the small of my back, making slow, gentle circles with his fingertips. It stilled as he considered his answer. “I know you’re not stupid. It was never my intent to make you feel that way.”

  “I know, you’re just trying to be careful, because of my freak out.” It was totally illogical, but I felt like I had done something wrong.

  “No. Please don’t feel embarrassed about that. Perhaps I should tell you…” He took a deep breath, and I braced myself to hear something really bad. “I have tried being submissive before and, caught up in the heat of the moment, I forgot to safe word. My Dom didn’t realize I was no longer enjoying myself, and it turned out to be a very bad experience. I would never want to do that to you.”

  “So, was she just not good at her job, or...”

  “He,” Neil clarified cautiously.

  “Oh.” Neil slept with men, too? That was a surprise. Not necessarily a bad one, when I started imagining it in my head. In fact, it might turn out to be some quality tub time material, if I left out the whole “bad experience” part.

  “He wasn’t a very good Dom. At the time I thought he was quite impressive. He suggested I sub for him so that I would know what it felt like when I was the Dominant,” Neil explained. “But not being submissive myself, I didn’t enjoy it at all. I was bound, I panicked, and I seriously injured my neck and shoulder.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drag up bad memories.” Gosh, I knew how to kill a mood, didn’t I?

  Then I had another thought, and I couldn’t not ask, not if I was supposed to go back into work tomorrow. “Um, I’m sorry for asking, but... it wasn’t... Rudy?”

  He looked horrified. “My god, Sophie, no. He’s my best friend. I may be fairly easy going when it comes to sexuality, but my private life is more or less compartmentalized. Once I see someone in a certain light, I’m very unlikely to re-categorize him. Besides, Rudy is a bit of a prude.”

  I snorted. “Okay. But listen, you don’t have to keep going on and on about the safe words. I know them. And I trust you to know if you need to stop and check on me.”

  “I will take that note,” he promised. “But I will always be sure the safe words and signals are clear before we begin. That’s not just for you, it’s for me as well.”

  “Deal.” I eased from the bed reluctantly, before I could be lulled to sleep by all the gentle touching a
nd warm, naked skin. As I dressed, he watched me, saying nothing. I'd just pulled my sweater over my head when he finally broke his silence.

  "Stay the weekend with me."

  I had bent over to pick up my bobby pins from the carpet, but I straightened quickly at his words. "Excuse me?"

  "When I'm back in my own apartment, where we'll have privacy and not be bankrupted on take out." The corner of his mouth twitched with a half-smile. "I don't know if you're aware, but I'm very rich. So, my apartment is spectacular."

  I put my hands on my hips. "Listen, I'm not rich, and my apartment is still pretty spectacular, Mr. Elitist. But I thought we were keeping things strictly sex. Do you think it’s a good idea to spend a whole weekend together?"

  He rose from the bed and walked to me, totally comfortable in his own nakedness, and pulled my clothed body against him. One hand groped my ass through my jeans, the other pressed against the small of my back. "Do I think it would be a good idea to spend forty-eight or more hours fucking you? Taking you in every room of my house, on every bed, desk, chair and table in the place?"

  I purred a long, slow, "Mmmmmm," as he nuzzled my throat. "You make a very compelling argument."

  "I should be settled in again weekend after next," he murmured against my skin. Red-hot sparks of desire simmered my blood. How could I already be craving him, when I was still exhausted from our last encounter?

  I groaned inwardly. "No, I can't that weekend. Holli wanted to throw me a party to celebrate my new job. Which is really just an excuse for her to invite all our friends over to get hammered, but she's really excited, and I promised her I'd do it."

  "Well, I can hardly ask you to turn your back on your friends." He lifted his head and stepped back. "What if I sent my driver to pick you up Saturday night, instead? We could sleep in on Sunday and have breakfast?”

  I hesitated. “You don’t go to church or anything, right?”

  A look of shock crossed his face. “Of course I do. You knew I was devoutly religious, didn’t you?”

  I didn’t know how to respond. Then I realized, in a moment of panic that turned to indignation, that he was joking. I slapped his shoulder. “Very funny.”