Taking Over (Like a Boss Book 2)

by Serenity Woods

  After being with you. What she means is that this is exciting, especially for someone who’s never had a one-night stand. She’s only ever slept with one person, for Christ’s sake. She hasn’t just stepped out of her comfort zone, she’s practically moved to the next country, so of course it’s going to be exciting.

  Even so, I discover I’m strangely pleased by her comment.

  She looks sad, though, and that irritates me. I don’t want her to be sad about her ex. I want to smash his face in, and have her do a victory dance around him.

  “He should have talked to you about it,” I tell her. “Or broken up with you. Not cheated on you. That wasn’t your fault, Gaby, and you don’t deserve that.”

  She reaches up and touches my face. “You’re very sweet.”

  My eyebrows rise. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that before.”

  “Well, you are. Sweet… and very, very sexy. I’ve had a fantastic evening.”

  “So far.” My body has had enough time to recover from our heated session, and desire is starting to stir again as my gaze slips down her naked body. Her breasts and thighs are shining in the moonlight, and her nipples are plump and full. I want to suck them to tight peaks, nice and hard, so it makes her squeal and wriggle beneath me.

  Her lips have parted, and I know she can see the passion in my eyes. “I might not be able to keep you as a sex slave for a whole month,” I tell her. “I’m sure I can manage it for one night though.”

  She moistens her lips with the tip of her tongue and shivers.

  I put my glass on the bedside table, lift up, and move over her, so I’m looking down on her.

  “You said it,” I remind her. “‘Fuck me all night if you want, any way you want,’ wasn’t that what you said?”

  “Um…”

  “You said ‘use me. Make me your sex slave.’ Or am I remembering that wrong?”

  “No,” she whispers. “I did say that.”

  “Have you changed your mind?”

  She gives a little smile, and a shy look. “No.”

  She’s all highlights and shadows in this moonlit night, and it makes me itch to get my camera out and take some classy black-and-white shots. I’ve been a keen photographer since I was a kid, and she’s framed perfectly, with her silky brown hair pooling on the bed, and her breasts and the swell of her hips painted silver. She stirs on the bed, sliding her thighs together, and I know she’s feeling turned on, too, at this little fun game we’re playing.

  I place her glass on the bedside table, and then take her hands in mine. Slowly, I move them above her head, and pin them there.

  “You’re mine,” I tell her, looking into her eyes. “You belong to me.”

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  “Just for tonight, I own you. I’m going to do whatever I want to your body, and you’re not going to stop me.” Holding both of her hands with one of mine, I slide the other down over her breasts, stopping to tug her nipples on the way, over her tummy, and down over her soft skin to between her legs. She’s still a little swollen and slippery from her earlier orgasms, and my fingers slide easily down through her folds and inside her.

  “Aaahhh,” she says, and when I circle my thumb across her clit, she shudders.

  “Are you sure about this?” I say, my voice sounding husky, even to me. “Because if you’re not, feel free to get up and leave now. But if you stay, you’re telling me that it’s okay for me to fuck you whatever way I choose, until you’re so exhausted you beg me to stop.”

  I’m half playing with her. I do want to fuck her again. And again. And again, if I have the energy. But although the alpha thing is fun to play at in bed, a woman always has the final say. I’d never force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. Good sex is about testing boundaries and trying new things, and both parties should always have the option to back away if they want to. But sometimes we need a little… persuasion, and I’m happy to help, if that’s what she needs.

  She gives me a helpless look. “I’m not going. I want to stay.”

  I remove my fingers from her, bring them up to my mouth, and lick them. “Good,” I say smugly, and bend and kiss her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gabriella

  Holy fucking Nora, what the hell am I doing? Having sex with Harrison is like having it in its most natural state—raw, primeval. As he kisses me, I can smell myself on his lips, and I have to admit to being a little shocked.

  Jesus, Alex and I were tame. Why have I never realized it before? We used maybe three or four different positions, and threw in a bit of oral sex for good measure, and that was about it. It’s not because I’m a prude—far from it. I don’t know why, but we never discussed it. He tended to take the initiative in the bedroom, and I let him, because that’s what I thought women did. Why did he never suggest anything new? Did he think I wouldn’t be interested? The fact that Alex had an affair tells me he wanted more excitement. Why didn’t we communicate our needs? If only we’d talked, we might still be together.

  But then I would never have met Harrison, and I can’t in all honesty say I wish that right now. Because this man is setting me alight, and even though I’ve already had three magnificent orgasms tonight, I want him inside me again, and I know that’s only going to culminate in more pleasure for me.

  He’s half lying on me now, kissing me hard, still holding my hands above my head, and with his other hand he’s pushed my knees apart, and he’s back to touching me. His fingers are sure and firm, occasionally sliding deep inside me, then returning to slip and slide through my folds, sometimes swirling over my clit.

  I don’t know if it’s the physical stimulation or the fact that I’m emotionally and mentally turned on that sends desire spiraling inside me, but it’s not long before I can sense my orgasm’s arrival from far away, like the sound of music played in the distance, the first strains echoing through the evening air. I moan against Harry’s lips, and then groan as he removes his hand and moves back.

  He’s reaching for a condom, though, and my heart rate increases once again at the knowledge that he wants to take me. His erection is long and thick, hard as a broom handle, and the thought of taking him inside makes me shiver.

  He tears open the packet and rolls the condom on in seconds, then eyes me and twirls his fingers in the air.

  “Turn over,” he instructs.

  My mouth goes dry. I roll onto my front, and then squeal as he unceremoniously lifts my hips so I’m on my knees. My elbows are still on the mattress, so my butt is high in the air.

  “Oh yeah,” he says with satisfaction, apparently enjoying the view. “Let’s make this one quick and hard. You up for it?”

  “Oh God, yes,” I say, panting, and I widen my knees so he can kneel between them, then feel him positioning himself at my entrance.

  I tense, waiting for him to slam forward, but to my relief he enters me slowly, gently rocking his hips and lubricating himself with my moisture, until he’s fully sheathed, all the way in, balls deep.

  “Ohhh…” I lean my forehead on my hands. It feels amazing like this, so intimate and sexy, reminding me of my primeval analogy. I can imagine that the cavemen took their women like this in front of the fire. Although would they have been this tender? This caring?

  “All right?” he murmurs.

  “Mmm… yeah.” I tense my internal muscles, smirking when he grunts. He rests his hands on my hips, and then he starts moving.

  He clearly enjoys observing us, because every now and again he slows, apparently watching himself sliding in and out of me, as well as listening to the slick sounds.

  But it’s not long before he starts living up to his promise of hard and fast. He thrusts firmly, burying himself deep inside me each time, and there’s little I can do except take it and say oh! as if I’m surprised at every penetration.

  Christ, this is fucking feral. I’ve done this position before, but it was nothing like this. Harrison has enough energy to fuel the whole city.
No wonder I feel as if I’m on fire. Pleasure stirs deep in my belly, and I groan when he slides a hand beneath me and plays with my breasts. My knees slide apart of their own accord, allowing him unfettered access.

  With a growl of pleasure, he withdraws, and he plunges his fingers into me. I gasp, but then he removes them, and I feel him smoothing the moisture up between the cheeks of my ass.

  Holy shit. I don’t know if I’m ready for this.

  But he slides his erection through my folds again, and it’s his fingers that do the exploring, as he teases my tight muscle with his thumb, just the tip, pushing it a little inside.

  I shudder at the unusual sensation, clenching around him, and he murmurs his approval and does it again, moving his thumb in and out while he continues to thrust deep within me. The feeling is amazing, and even though he’s not touching my clit, I feel my orgasm approaching.

  I wonder if he’ll do what he did before and make me wait, but this time he doesn’t—instead, he increases the pace of his thrusts, slamming hard into me. I release all control and just let him take me, let the orgasm roll over me, and as I clench around him, he swears and pushes so hard I’m certain he’s going to come out the top of my head. It’s an unbelievable feeling, and we remain clenched in mutual gratification for what is probably only ten or twenty seconds, but feels like hours of intense pleasure.

  Breathing heavily, he withdraws, and I fall forward onto the pillow and bury my face in it. Harrison falls on top of me, pinning me to the mattress, but I don’t even have the energy to protest.

  “Jesus.” I shiver at the aftershocks of the orgasm, little champagne bubbles of pleasure that ripple through me as my muscles tense and relax. “Holy fucking hell.”

  He chuckles, the deep rumble in his chest reverberating through my back, and he nuzzles my neck. “Nice?”

  “Oh my God, you have no idea.”

  “Mmm.” He shifts a little so he’s not so heavy on me, but wraps his arms around me, so we’re like two spoons from the same batch, made to lie together. “Okay, take five. Then I want you on top.”

  I start laughing. “Seriously?”

  “Then side by side, I think. Then standing up.”

  “Holy shit, Harrison! Where do you get the energy?”

  “All night,” he murmurs, kissing my ear before nibbling the lobe. “I’m going to fuck you until the sun comes up. So, don’t plan on getting any sleep.”

  I shiver. Is he serious? When he joked about me being his sex slave, I assumed he meant we’d do it once or twice more and then he’d send me packing.

  All night. I lift my head and check my phone on the table—it’s not even eleven yet. That’s what, seven or eight hours until we have to go to work?

  Nah. He’s kidding me. There’s no way a couple could have sex that many times in one night.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Gabriella

  “Hey, wake up.” Colette pokes me in the side with a ruler.

  For a moment, I think I’m back in bed with Harrison, and then I remember that I’m at work, at my desk. “I wasn’t asleep,” I mumble. It’s a half truth. I’m so tired I was phasing out, and she caught me right at the moment my eyelids drooped.

  “Here.” She plonks a mug of coffee in front of me and pulls up a chair. Dragging a pile of new brochures toward us, she opens one as if we’re about to proofread for errors, then says, “You have to tell me everything.”

  “I had a glass of bubbly and some potato wedges,” I reveal.

  “Gabs!”

  My lips curve up. She looks like a kid on Christmas morning. Bless her, she’s really excited for me. “It went well, don’t worry,” I tell her.

  “Did you go back to his place?”

  “Yeah…”

  “And?”

  “It was lovely. I loved his kitchen.”

  She sits back in her chair and gives me a wry look as she sips her coffee. “At least tell me you had a good time?”

  “You could say that.” I cross my eyes. “The guy’s insatiable.”

  “Really? How many times did you do it?”

  I bite my lip. “Seven.”

  “Seven! Holy fuck.”

  “It was indeed. Seven holy fucks.” We both chuckle. “I think he only stopped because I fell asleep,” I admit. “He kept me up until four a.m. I’m a shadow of my former self.”

  “I’m so proud of you!”

  That makes me laugh. “I’m glad.”

  “Did he finally banish the ghost of exes past?”

  “He did. In more ways than one.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I sip my coffee as I think about it. “He made me feel… different from how I was with Alex. It was exciting, and it made me realize how much my relationship with Alex had grown stale. But I suppose that’s natural, isn’t it? No relationship can stay fresh over ten years. Everything fades in the sun.”

  Colette shrugs. “I hope not. Things with Seb are only getting better.”

  “You have only been with him three months,” I remind her gently.

  “True. But there’s something between us I’ve not felt before.” A touch of color appears on her cheekbones.

  “Are you saying you believe in soul mates?” I tease.

  She doesn’t laugh, though. “Maybe. Or perhaps it’s just a confluence of events—the meeting of two people who are statistically well matched with likes and dislikes, and it happens at a time in their lives when they’re ready for the next step. Maybe if I’d met him a year ago, or even six months ago, the timing wouldn’t have been right. Who knows? But I’m hopeful that this one will last.”

  “Of course it will!” I feel bad for suggesting otherwise, because it’s clear the two of them are crazy about each other. “Don’t mind me. I’m just jealous.”

  “Doesn’t sound like you have a reason to be.” She winks at me.

  “I hardly think we can compare your relationship to my one-night fuckfest.”

  “Hey, mine started as a one-night fuckfest. We had no intention of it developing into something more. But flings tend to be like feral dogs—they have a mind of their own. Are you going to see him again?” she persists.

  “Noooo.” Of that I’m certain. “I’m going travelling, remember?”

  “Not for another few weeks.”

  “Yeah, but it’s a reason not to get involved.”

  “Is it? You could say it’s the perfect reason to have a fling. No worries for either of you about Where This is Going.”

  I don’t reply to that. I’m not sure I can put into words my fear that I’m going to fall for Harrison Grant.

  I liked him even before I went to bed with him. And now…

  An intern who wants some details about the new brochure distracts Colette, giving me time to stare into the distance and daydream about last night.

  I’d told Harrison during a moment of sensual madness that I wanted him to use me, to fuck me any way he wanted. To make me his sex slave. I can’t believe I was brave enough to say the words now, but I did, and he absolutely followed my instructions to the T. He took complete control of my arousal last night, and he did make me his slave inasmuch as he directed me into different positions each time, and he took his own pleasure from me with no sign of a decrease in passion from the first time to the last.

  But even though in my sexual fog I’d offered him the use of my body, and I completely expected him to take it with little thought to my own desire, I couldn’t have been more wrong. He took great delight in taking time to arouse me, touching and stroking me in between the moments of intercourse until the whole night blurred into one long haze of sensation.

  I’d expected him to be passionate, and maybe even to be thoughtful, making sure I enjoyed myself. But I assumed after that, he’d be showing me the door. Instead, I stayed all night, and it was only when my phone went off at six that he finally let me call a taxi and go home to shower and get ready for work.

  “Earth to Gaby.” Colette finishes off her co
ffee. “Dreaming of Mr. Seven-times-a-night, are we? Your eyes have glazed over.”

  “I was thinking about having a chocolate muffin, actually.”

  “Figures. You need something to keep your energy up if you’re going to expend that number of calories.” She smirks.

  I open my mouth to give a sarcastic retort, then stop as out of the corner of my eye I see Harrison walk into the office. The words die on my lips, and my whole body floods with heat.

  Colette stares at me—I’ve obviously gone scarlet—then follows my gaze. She laughs.

  Harrison is with someone who’s wearing a visitor’s badge, no doubt showing an investor or someone else of importance around the office. He hasn’t seen us yet, and I enjoy having a few seconds to ogle him. He’s wearing a slate-gray suit, with a white shirt and a sky-blue-and-silver striped tie. Ohhh… he’s gorgeous. I want to jump on him, rip off his clothes, and have him for breakfast.

  “Wow,” Colette whispers. “You’ll set him alight if you carry on looking at him like that. Want to drag him off into the stationery cupboard?”

  “No chance of that,” I mutter. “I can barely walk this morning. My lady parts are radioactive.”

  He glances over at that point, and for a moment I think he heard what I said. He looks at Colette, who’s smirking again, and then his gaze flicks to me. My face burns as images from last night flash through my mind. His mouth, his hands, other pieces of his anatomy… Teasing me to the edge of pleasure, and beyond… This man took me to places I’ve never been before, exciting places, dark places, pushing my boundaries, and showing me what real, grown up, sexual desire is all about.

  I thought I’d rise the next morning and walk away without looking back. I thought I’d be an adult about this, be able to have sex with him and not give him another thought.