Ruthless Boss, Dream Baby

by Susan Stephens

  ‘Can you be more specific?’

  ‘This is going to sound so stupid to you.’

  ‘Try me,’ Quinn suggested wryly.

  ‘I have never—’ She swallowed and started again in a firmer voice. ‘I have never…’

  ‘Had an orgasm?’ Quinn supplied, making her blush.

  Her face was on fire. She couldn’t speak.

  ‘And you want me to show you?’

  ‘I’m not sure I do,’ Magenta admitted.

  ‘Only because you don’t know what to expect. When you do, you won’t want to stop.’

  Her body responded with outrageous enthusiasm to Quinn’s proposition.

  He took his time undressing her, smoothing his hands down her body while she responded eagerly to his touch. Her desire was reflected in Quinn’s eyes. She wanted everything he had to give—more sensation, more caresses—but she suspected Quinn would make her wait now he knew her secret. He would draw this out, allowing her time to think about the magnitude of the pleasure to come—pleasure he would bring her.

  He proved this theory now. The more she tried to hurry him, the more his lazy smile assured her that he would set the pace.

  ‘Why?’ she demanded finally on a shaking breath. ‘Why are you making me wait like this?’

  ‘Because it will be worth waiting for.’

  ‘I’ve waited long enough.’

  Quinn’s words and his stern expression, the note of command in his voice, all drove her to the pinnacle of lust—which he knew only too well. Quinn understood everything about her needs. He knew how to make her hungry for him and was shameless about using that power. Cupping her breast, he chafed her nipple through the flimsy fabric of her bra while his hot mouth attended to her other nipple. Her new lacy underwear concealed nothing; she could see that her nipples were no longer modestly pink, but were livid and erect. Her cobweb-fine briefs did even less to conceal the brazen swelling of a body that had to know Quinn’s touch—and soon.

  He had slipped a pillow beneath her buttocks and now she realised why. He wanted her to see the pleasure he was bringing her—he wanted her to have clear sight of all her erotic zones responding to him as he coaxed them into pleasure.

  ‘I think you like that,’ he observed when she sucked in a noisy breath.

  ‘I don’t like you teasing me,’ she complained, writhing beneath him as she tried in vain to capture some elusive pressure from his hands. ‘How can you do this? How can you wait like this?’ She arced towards him, but Quinn was too fast for her, and had already moved his hands away.

  ‘I can’t bear it!’

  ‘Well, I can—and you are going to learn the benefit of delay.’

  She reached for his belt.

  ‘I refuse to rush.’

  ‘You must—you have to help me,’ she insisted. It was then that Quinn pressed his lips to her ear.

  ‘When you’re swollen and ready to the point where you can’t hold on, then I’ll help you.’ Lifting her, he deftly removed her bra and tossed it aside. She moved to cover herself, but Quinn wouldn’t let her. ‘It’s my turn to look at you,’ he said.

  She loved the note of command in his voice and, resting back on the pillow, she raised her arms above her head, displaying her body for his approval. Her breasts were full; Quinn approved, she gathered, as he caressed them. When he had suckled to his heart’s content, he buried his face in them. ‘You were made to be loved, Magenta Steele.’

  By you. Only by you. ‘Has anyone ever told you you’re very good at this?’ she said, easing her head on the pillow to look down at him.

  ‘How would you like me to answer that?’ Quinn demanded softly, staring at her with amusement.

  ‘With the truth?’

  But Quinn just laughed and moved farther down the bed.

  She cried out softly, feeling his hot breath on her thighs. ‘Oh please,’ she begged as his strong, white teeth teased and tormented, sharp against her hot flesh. Arcing her body, she made it easier for him to remove the scrap of lace, which was all that was left between them, and then whimpered when he pressed her to him flesh to flesh. She should feel embarrassed—awkward, apprehensive—but instead she was lifting her hips for him. She was ready, more than ready, for the pleasure Quinn had promised her.

  And then he touched her.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SHE went quite still. She didn’t want to breathe or move in case she did anything to distract Quinn and make the pleasure stop. Time was suspended as he began to touch her in a more purposeful manner. His movements were leisurely so she had a chance to relish each studied movement. Delicately parting her swollen lips, he touched her with his tongue. Rough tongue, hot flesh, warm breath and the steady but dependable rhythm he set up soon brought her to the edge. ‘Lie still,’ he commanded. ‘Let me do everything. Do you understand?’

  She could only gasp something unintelligible in reply. She wanted to keep her focus on Quinn and the pleasure he was bringing her.

  He began again.

  ‘Oh, no, no, no!’ she exclaimed, thrashing her head about on the pillows when he stopped. ‘You can’t stop now. Even you couldn’t be so cruel!’

  ‘Cruel?’ Quinn demanded softly, moving back up the bed. ‘I’m not cruel. You have no idea how considerate I can be—especially when you follow my instructions to the letter.’

  ‘You are so bad,’ she breathed. ‘But I will. I will…’

  The last thing she saw was Quinn’s lips curving and then he was moving down the bed to start again.

  ‘I can’t hold on,’ she wailed as the tidal wave rushed towards her.

  Quinn might have answered; she wouldn’t have known. She bucked convulsively as the first climactic throb of pleasure claimed her, and only heard herself crying out his name when the violent surges of pleasure began to subside. Quinn held her as she writhed beneath his firm touch until she quietened. ‘That was…amazing.’

  ‘More?’ he suggested.

  ‘I have to undress you.’

  ‘You have to?’ Quinn curbed a grin.

  ‘Absolutely. Now I know what I’ve been missing. Like you said, I have plans.’

  Sitting up in bed with her long, dark hair tumbling over her shoulders, she started on Quinn’s belt. She hated the thickness of the leather and the stubbornness of the tine. His erection thrust imperatively against the denim, tantalising her, taunting her, and when she finally released the zip it flew back under enormous pressure. ‘Lift your hips.’ Her voice sounded harsh and primitive, matching the hunger inside her. Inhibitions meant nothing to her now. She was claiming her mate.

  Boxers followed Quinn’s jeans to the floor, and only now did she hesitate. Quinn might have prepared her to the point of no return, but seeing him naked like this for the first time startled her. Could she possibly take him inside her? He was so much bigger than she had imagined, more brazenly masculine in every way, and utterly unselfconscious about it. Powerful and virile, this was a man in peak condition, muscular and tanned, and right now he was formidably aroused.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ he said.

  ‘I want you.’ She held his gaze, and Quinn knew from her expression that at this point she needed him to take over.

  Reaching out, he brushed the hair back from her face. She felt awkward momentarily, even surprised that Quinn would make sliding on a condom part of the love play between them.

  ‘Can I?’ she said shyly.

  She had everything to learn and now was her chance. Covering her hand with his, Quinn guided her.

  She had always thought it would be embarrassing to manage the mechanics of love-making but nothing was awkward with Quinn. He was so open about everything it made her feel the same way. And this opportunity to explore him, to feel him beneath her hands, warm, hard, veined and smooth, thick and pulsating…

  Closing her eyes, she relished the simple pleasure of touch, but then Quinn brought her down to the bed and she was soon distracted. Their kisses grew in heat until they were tumblin
g over each other as if no touch or kiss, no tangling of limbs or wild, raw, heated embrace, could ever be enough for them. Quinn’s body was a passport to pleasure and hers was his to use as he pleased.

  But right at the moment, when she should have been at her most receptive, the doubts swept back in. Sensing the change in her, Quinn stilled immediately.

  She moved away.

  ‘Are you still afraid I might hurt you?’ Bringing her back into his arms, Quinn dropped kisses on her brow, on her eyes and on her lips.

  ‘I’m more frightened of disappointing you.’

  Quinn smiled his reassurance against her mouth. ‘You could never disappoint me. But if you don’t want this…’

  ‘I definitely want it.’

  ‘And I definitely want it. So it seems to me we’re riding the same wave here.’

  Quinn’s lips pressed down attractively as he cupped her face, caressing her cheeks with his thumb pads. From there his hands continued to soothe as his kisses migrated down her neck to her breasts, and from there to her belly and the inside of her thighs. He moved lower, kissing her ankles as he massaged her feet until she thought she would faint with pleasure, before moving on to caress her calves and lick the back of her knees—a place she could never have imagined held such potential for sensation. ‘Don’t you dare stop,’ she ordered him huskily, linking her hands behind her head as he rested her legs on his shoulders. ‘Do I please you?’

  ‘What do you think?’ Quinn murmured.

  She sighed and pressed against him, pressed against his mouth. She didn’t want to hold anything back. She wanted to experience everything Quinn wanted to give her to the full. And after he’d brought her to the edge again he straightened up to brush himself against her. He teased her with the delicious foretaste of the pleasure to come until she cried out in complaint. His answer to this was to tease her again, drawing himself more slowly this time over each moist and swollen part of her, until she was relaxed enough for him to stretch her with just the tip.

  The sensation was so extreme, so good, that when Quinn made to withdraw this time she thrust her hips towards him, claiming him.

  The breath shot out of Magenta’s lungs in a rush. She wasn’t even sure if she could take all of him; sensing her shock, Quinn worked some magic with his fingers and, with that and his kisses to distract her, he took control. It was only moments until he inhabited her completely.

  Quinn moved and she moved with him, marvelling at the lack of pain, the lack of fear, even though he was stretching her beyond anything she would have imagined possible. He filled her in the most pleasing way, massaging her most effectively, and it wasn’t long before she was working frantically with him towards the inevitable conclusion. Digging her fingers into his buttocks, she pressed her hips down until she was certain that no part of them was left unconnected, and moments later the first spasm hit her. Crying Quinn’s name, she abandoned herself to pleasure, bucking uncontrollably yet registering somewhere in the depths of her mind that her first orgasm with Quinn had just been utterly eclipsed.

  It took ages for her to recover and ages for the delicious little aftershocks of extreme pleasure to subside. Quinn rested deep inside her, waiting until he judged her sufficiently recovered, and then he began to move. Rolling his hips slowly from side to side, he brought the hunger back again and the next climax hit her before she even knew it was building. Screaming out his name, she thrust her hips convulsively while Quinn held her firmly in place, making sure she enjoyed every moment of it.

  ‘You’re spoiling me,’ she managed groggily as he moved to take her again.

  ‘We’re only getting started,’ Quinn assured her. ‘I’m taking the edge off your hunger.’

  ‘Taking the edge off!’ Magenta laughed, but Quinn confirmed his intentions, dropping kisses on her swollen lips. ‘And when I’ve done that,’ he said, ‘just as I promised I would, I’m going to make love to you.’

  ‘Haven’t we been doing that?’

  Quinn’s laugh was low and sexy. ‘Come on, Magenta,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘We both know that neither of us is cut out for a diet of canapés.’

  As Quinn was already moving deep inside her she had no intention of arguing with that. Holding her secure in his arms, Quinn was rocking her. ‘Harder,’ she begged him greedily. ‘Take me faster, Quinn.’ Then speech was no longer possible. ‘Hold me!’ she cried out in the last few ecstatic moments.

  Cupping her buttocks firmly, Quinn kept her in position as she thrust her fists against his chest. She needed something to brace herself against as her mind was ripped from her body and flung into a world of unimaginable colour and sensation. She explored it to the full, knowing that when she finally quietened Quinn would be waiting to soothe her with reassurances that she was safe.

  This was definitely the way forward, Magenta decided, practically purring with contentment as she woke slowly the following morning, thankfully still in the sixties, in Quinn’s huge bed. They had made love through the night and only dawn had interrupted them. At the first faint glimmer of light, Quinn had sprung up and left her side.

  Her heart filled when he returned from taking a shower. It was no use pretending this was anything casual. She couldn’t get enough of him—and no wonder. With a towel slung around his hips like a loin cloth, Quinn was quite a sight to wake up to in the morning. He was the full package, she reflected contentedly, easing her sated limbs. Quinn had the body of a gladiator and a mind like a steel trap. He was funny and tender, and had an appetite for sex that knew no bounds. He was the dream lover.

  She could so easily make a habit of this, Magenta mused as he strolled towards the bed, drying his wayward hair on a towel.

  ‘It’s time to get up.’

  ‘Already?’ she complained.

  ‘Work?’ Quinn reminded her.

  ‘Work?’ she echoed without any of her usual enthusiasm. ‘Can’t we stay here a little longer?’ For the first time in her life, there was something a lot more important than work—such as being with Quinn. Gazing up into his face, she only found it disappointingly resolute.

  ‘Work,’ he confirmed, turning on his heels. ‘Take a shower; there’s plenty of hot water.’

  Take a shower—alone? Mageneta frowned, wishing she hadn’t heard the distant note in Quinn’s voice. After last night she had expected things to be very different between them.

  She waited until she was sure he was busy dressing before creeping out of bed. Grabbing her discarded clothes, she held them in front of her. She felt self-conscious suddenly. Quinn made her feel as if she had overstayed her welcome—a sense that only grew when he asked if she wanted a lift to the office.

  If? He hadn’t even turned to look at her yet.

  ‘I don’t want to be late,’ he explained. Stepping inside his open-plan dressing room, he started the process of selecting a tie. ‘I’ve got a lot on this morning.’

  She mustn’t think the worst of him. ‘You’ve called a meeting of the team?’ she guessed hopefully.

  ‘Yes, I have,’ he confirmed.

  If this was an opportunity to get those girls out of the typing pool, she’d forgive him anything. ‘Great. I’ll be as quick as I can,’ she promised, springing out of bed.

  She had to be positive about this, Magenta told herself firmly as she stepped into a proper shower beneath steaming spray. She might have known that even in the sixties Quinn would enjoy state-of-the-art plumbing. She had to put her personal feelings to one side and recognise the meeting Quinn had called for the victory it was. And what had she imagined—that Quinn intended to progress their relationship? It was time to get real, time to come to grips with the era in which she found herself, however much that hurt.

  But as they drove to the office, and she stared out of Quinn’s car window at the sixties cityscape of concrete and high-rise grey boxes, there was nothing she wanted more than a return to real time, real relationships, and an end to this confusing dream if that was what it was. She had expected to b
e intrigued by everything she saw. She had also expected to be set free to enjoy a whole new set of rules. What she had not expected was those rules leading her to feel so deeply about Quinn, or to find that sexual freedom came with quite such a heavy price tag.

  Quinn remained aloof and unspeaking throughout the journey, while Magenta tried to persuade herself that he was mentally preparing himself for the day ahead. Whatever had happened between them, she was determined to show a bright face at the office. There was enough uncertainty there without her adding to it, and the most important thing she had to do today was to tell the girls the good news.

  Magenta felt even more positive when she entered the office to discover that the partition around the typing pool had been removed; Quinn had kept his word. Even if the girls were still sitting in rows typing, at least they could see what was going on around them now. And, most importantly, they felt good about the changes, judging by the smiling faces that greeted her.

  Her feelings of elation grew when Quinn invited her and the girls to join his team in the boardroom that morning. She had suspected he might, and had briefed the girls beforehand, urging them to speak out and ignore any slights the men might throw their way. ‘We have to be professional, even if they aren’t,’ she’d warned. ‘If we want Quinn to involve us in the campaign, it’s crucial that we keep emotion out of it. We have nothing to prove in there other than the fact that our ideas are better than theirs.’

  ‘You bet they are,’ Nancy had agreed. ‘We’re behind you all the way, Magenta.’

  One of the girls still made coffee for everyone, Magenta noticed. But she told herself she mustn’t be greedy. Quinn was right in that lasting change took time to implement. One small step at a time would suit her, so long as that step was in the right direction.

  She led the way into the boardroom and acknowledged Quinn as if they hadn’t spent the night in each other’s arms.

  ‘Magenta,’ he greeted her in much the same way. ‘Would you and your team like to sit down?’