Like a Boss Box Set: Like a Boss Series Books 1-4

by Serenity Woods

  “Stay there,” I tell her. “Just like that. I’m going to kiss every inch of you, as slowly as either of us can bear it.”

  Her lips part, and a look of helpless lust fills her eyes. “You don’t have to…” she begins.

  I laugh. “This is for me, not you.” It’s a half truth.

  I kiss her lips, long and leisurely, dipping my tongue into her mouth before tracing the tip across her bottom lip. After that, I start my journey of discovery, kissing her nose and cheeks and eyebrows, around to her ear, down her neck, over her shoulders, and along her arms. I kiss each finger and her palms, the inside of her wrists and elbows, and then start on her body. I enjoy the silkiness of her skin beneath my lips as I kiss down her collarbone to her breasts, and over her velvet nipples. I spend a little time there, teasing them with my tongue until she’s wriggling and groaning beneath me, and then I continue down, to her soft stomach.

  From there, I kiss over her hip to her thigh, and all the way down to her toes. I suck each one in turn, watching her and enjoying her laugh and the flush that appears on her cheeks. I swap to the other foot, trailing my tongue up her instep, and then kiss up her thigh.

  She’s sighing now, more than ready for me, and I push apart her thighs and kiss them until my lips brush the crease at the top, and then I settle down and nuzzle the beautiful plump, moist folds of her that are just begging to be licked. I oblige, sliding my tongue into her, and explore with my tongue and fingers, sliding them inside her, and then swirling over her clit. She moans and sinks a hand into my hair, begging me not to stop, so I continue, licking the bud and stroking inside her, until her breathing turns ragged and my hand is wet with her moisture.

  Mmm, there’s nothing better in this world than bringing a woman to orgasm, and Elen is the most beautiful woman of all, this sweet, sassy, brave, feisty, but vulnerable girl, who’s crying out my name, her fingers tightening in my hair as if she’s terrified I’m going to stop. But I don’t, and within moments she clenches around my fingers, deep, tight pulses that make me groan, too. It’s all I can do not to just lift up and thrust into her, but this one’s for her, and so I lick her, and suck her, and let her float to the ground on my tongue, when I finally withdraw my fingers.

  “Kane…” she says with a sigh, “ohhh, that was nice.”

  “I’m glad.” I part her inner lips and kiss her there, touching my tongue gently to her clit, as I know she’ll be sensitive.

  She murmurs dreamily, apparently liking that, so I carry on for a while, slowly but surely teasing her once again to the edge.

  “What are you doing?” she whispers.

  “Loving you.” I rise and move over her, bending to kiss her lips. “Turn over.”

  She looks into my eyes, then rolls onto her front.

  I feast my eyes hungrily on her curves, and begin to kiss her neck. “You drive me wild,” I say in her ear before sucking gently where her pulse is racing. “Do you know that?”

  “Mmm… That’s so nice…”

  I brush my lips across her back, over her bottom, and down her legs, taking time to lick the inside of her ankles, the back of her knees, anywhere that might be sensitive and turn her on. By the time I get back up to her neck, she’s flushed again, and her breath is coming in gasps.

  Waiting is no longer an option for me--I’m hard and throbbing and desperate to be inside her. I pull down a pillow that I get her to tuck under her hips, push up one of her knees, and stroke her for a moment before hurriedly applying a condom and then guiding the tip of my erection to her entrance. As slowly as I can manage it, I slide inside her.

  “Aaahhh.” She shudders and widens her thighs. I pull back, push forward, and do this two or three times until I’m coated with her moisture, then sink back into her all the way, right up to the hilt.

  Lowering onto my elbows, I nuzzle her neck and kiss her when she turns her face to mine. “I feel… drunk,” she says, her eyelids fluttering. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but please, don’t stop…”

  “I’m not planning on it,” I assure her, thrusting slowly while I smooth a hand up over her hips and ribs to her breast. It fills my palm, feeling like a ripe peach when I gently squeeze it, and when I tease the nipple, she lowers her forehead onto the pillow and moans.

  Is this what it’s like in heaven? I can’t think of anything more wonderful than this moment, plunging into the hot, wet flesh of this beautiful woman. The idea of spending forever in bed with Elen Wright is extremely appealing. I want to love her until the thought of her ex is a distant memory, and her sadness a vague shadow long ago in her past. I want to make her laugh, and sigh with pleasure the way she’s doing right now, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes fluttering shut as her climax approaches.

  “Come for me, Elen,” I murmur in her ear, and thrust harder, filling the air with the sounds of our lovemaking, our sighs, and the slick sound of me sliding inside her.

  “Oh God…” She stills and shudders, and then I feel her muscles clamping around me, Jesus, so tightly, and it only takes me a couple of thrusts and I’m coming too. Fuck. The feeling is exquisite, made even more amazing by having Elen beneath me.

  I close my eyes, surprised by the emotions spiraling through me. Tenderness, triumph, and also, completely surprising me, a wistful desire to rid myself of the condom and spill inside her. A primal urge to make her mine, to claim her, that I never, not once, experienced with Jen. It’s only now, at this moment, that I realize how making a baby was all Jen’s idea. I went along with it because it was what a man does to please his partner after a certain number of years. But I never felt this overwhelming need to claim her in this way.

  And it’ll never happen with Elen, because I can’t have children.

  I withdraw from her and pull her back into my arms.

  What a crying shame.

  I want to keep her. I’m crazy about her. But is it fair to keep her by my side when I can’t give her the thing that every woman wants?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Elen

  We see each other the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that.

  It’s difficult to get out of bed to go to work. I don’t want to leave Kane’s side. He’s such a fantastic lover. I awake to the feel of his hands stroking my back, or his lips pressing against my breast, and I sigh and roll to face him, drowsy with sleep and a sensual longing I’ve not felt before, not to this extent, anyway.

  We keep it quiet, not telling anyone at work, and I enjoy the delicious secrecy of seeing him occasionally around the office, when his eyes meet mine and I just know he’s thinking about what we did last night, or what he wants to do to me when we get home.

  It’s a busy time, with meeting after meeting and lots of conferences and business trips, made more hectic by the fact that Caleb has been away on his three-week honeymoon, so Seb, Harry, and I have had more work to do, and Kane’s flat out with his copywriting. So the days pass in a whirl, and it’s with some surprise that I realize one Sunday morning, as Kane prepares coffee and toast and we take it out onto his balcony, that nearly a month has passed.

  I curl up in my seat and nibble at the toast as I watch him read the news headlines on his iPad. He’s lit by the early morning sun, and his hair is falling over his forehead. He’s so quiet and thoughtful and calm. I’m quiet and thoughtful and calm when I’m with him, and I like that.

  He glances over at me then, and he smiles and winks at me. I glow inside, because he makes me feel beautiful. He makes me feel the best version of myself.

  And I know then, Jesus, I’m in love with this guy. It hits me, just like that.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asks, amused. “You’re blushing.”

  “I am not. I don’t blush.”

  “You do. You blush when you’re about to come.” He smirks.

  Now my cheeks burn. He loves shocking me. “You’re a wicked man. You’re looking at me like you want me on your toast for breakfast.”


  He chuckles. “Sounds like a great idea.”

  “I thought you’d have eaten your fill last night,” I say saucily. I’m not sure a man who enjoys giving oral pleasure is something my grandmother would have thought to gift me, but I thank my fairy godmother, whoever she is.

  He gives me a wicked grin. “That was last night. Now I’m starving again.”

  I melt inside at the thought of him going down on me. He has a way of looking at me that gives me goosebumps.

  “Did you know that the French call an orgasm le petite mort, which means ‘the little death’?” I tell him.

  “I did. That’s because after exertion, the soul transcends to another plane.”

  “Or because the guy falls asleep.”

  He laughs, because it’s so not true--if anything, it’s me who dozes off, worn out from all the pleasure. “The vibrator was invented in the nineteenth century to reduce female hysteria,” he informs me.

  “I can believe that. I’m beginning to feel hysterical right now.”

  He crunches his toast and licks his lips.

  “You burn two hundred calories in thirty minutes of sex,” I tell him.

  “Better than dieting,” he agrees. “Whales have the world’s largest penises. Eight feet was the biggest.”

  “Holy fuck.”

  “Guaranteed to make your eyes water.”

  Chuckling, I nibble my bottom lip as I think of other sex facts. “Turkeys and giraffes are bisexual.”

  “I bet they had fun carrying out that study. A man ejaculates at an average speed of twenty-eight miles per hour.”

  That gives me the giggles. “The black widow spider eats her mate during or after sex, and sometimes consumes up to twenty lovers in a single day.”

  “I think I dated a girl like that in high school. Twenty-five percent of couples over seventy-five are still sexually active.”

  I’m still giggling. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “You think you’ll still be having sex at seventy-five?”

  “I sincerely hope so. I think we’ll still be at it even when our hair is white and our teeth are in a glass beside the bed.”

  He sips his coffee and meets my gaze. His smile has faded, and he looks out across the city for a moment.

  I go cold. What did I say? Was it talking about having a future together? Is that not what he wants?

  I started the morning realizing I’ve fallen in love with this man. Now the sun has gone in, and I feel cold.

  “Kane,” I say softly. “If you want to end this, you have to tell me right now. Because I’m falling for you, and if you don’t feel the same way, I need to know.”

  He doesn’t react to my declaration. He continues to stare out at the clouds for a moment. Then, finally, he looks back at me. “Do you want kids?”

  On the surface, it’s an innocuous question, the kind a couple who are considering spending more time together might discuss in passing. But there’s a whole heap of meaning behind Kane’s words.

  I’d half-forgotten he’s infertile. It’s not the kind of thing that comes up in every conversation, and he’s so… feral in bed that it’s quite clear to me that infertility is not connected in any way to masculinity.

  But it’s obviously on his mind. We’re starting to get serious, and he needs to know whether I feel the same way Jen did.

  “I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I haven’t thought about it that much. I work hard, and I have lots I still want to do. Do we have to discuss it now? We haven’t been together that long. It’s a big decision to make a month into a relationship.” I’m not sure how I feel about sperm donors and IVF and adoption--I need time to give it some thought.

  He puts his coffee cup on the table, and leans forward, his elbows on his knees, fingers linked. “I haven’t told you everything about how my marriage ended.”

  I frown. “What do you mean?”

  He studies his fingers for a while. “After we discovered it was me who was infertile, Jen wanted to use a sperm donor, but I didn’t feel comfortable with that. I didn’t like the idea of her getting pregnant by another man--I mean, I know that’s not how it is, but I wasn’t happy with it. So we had three rounds of IVF, none of which worked. Jen wanted to try again; I didn’t. I felt it wasn’t meant to be. We might not have been able to have kids, but we had each other. It was enough for me, but not for her, apparently. A couple of months passed, during which she kept trying to talk me into using a sperm donor. Things deteriorated--I wanted to stop talking about it, but she said I was ignoring her feelings and that the urge to go through pregnancy was too strong to ignore. I think I was conscious deep down that the marriage had gone wrong, and that we were going to have to face the fact. Then one day, she came home and told me… she was pregnant.”

  I stare at him. “What?”

  He lifts his gaze to mine. “By someone else.”

  My jaw drops. “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah. A guy she worked with. She said she’d only slept with him once.” He looks back at his hands. “She told me that if I agreed, she wouldn’t tell him, and we could bring the baby up as our own.”

  “She arranged her own sperm donor,” I say softly.

  He gives a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I walked out. I couldn’t believe the woman I loved--or thought I loved--would do something like that, to me, to the other guy, or to the baby. I haven’t seen her since. We’ve done everything through our lawyers. She’s had the baby, and I understand she’s living with the father.”

  “Oh, Kane, I’m so sorry.” I feel terrible for him.

  “I don’t want pity,” he says, and his voice is hard. “I told you, Elen, because I’m already half in love with you, and I don’t think it’s going to take me long to fall the whole way. I know it’s early to discuss it, but I need to know whether having a child naturally is so important for you that it would cause problems between us. I hope you can understand that. I want you to think about it seriously. Will you do that for me?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kane

  I want to get down on one knee and ask her to marry me. I want to tell her that we’re going to be together forever, and I’ll do anything to keep her. I’ll treat her like a princess, and I’ll make sure she never wants for anything.

  But I don’t, because I meant what I said--she needs to think about the fact that I can’t give her a child naturally, and what that means to her.

  She looks upset, and her bottom lip trembles. So I lean forward and kiss her, slipping my hand to the back of her neck and holding her there while I enjoy the softness of her mouth.

  She parts her lips, and I slide my tongue against hers, deepening the kiss and feeling the first stirrings of desire in my belly. I have no idea whether this might be the last time I’m able to make love to her. She might think about what I said and decide she doesn’t want to stay with me. I might have one last chance to show her how I feel about her.

  So I take her coffee mug and place it with mine on the ledge around the balcony. I pull her to her feet and move her so she’s perched on the edge of the table. She’s wearing one of my shirts, with just two buttons done up in the middle, and I undo them now and part the sides to reveal her bare skin, sighing with pleasure at the sight of her rosy nipples that are begging to be sucked.

  I push her backward so she’s leaning on her elbows, and I cover one nipple with my mouth, teasing it until it hardens, and then I switch to the other and do the same to that one, until they’re both red and hard and glistening. Then I kiss down over her stomach, fall to my knees in front of her, and spread her knees wide.

  I will never tire of this, and if she decides to stay with me, I’ll happily do it every day for the rest of our lives. I kiss up her thigh and brush my lips against her smooth mound, then insert the tip of my tongue at the base of her folds and lick all the way up. She groans and drops her head back, and I slide my arms under her thighs an
d hold her open while I pleasure her with my tongue, licking and sucking until her breathing has turned to long, desperate gasps.

  At that point, I push up to my feet, pull her forward, and turn her around, so she’s bending over the table. I’m only wearing boxers and a tee, and I slide my erection beneath until I enter her.

  We both sigh, and I give a few thrusts, until I’m coated with her moisture, and I’m sliding easily into her soft flesh. Then I lean over her and kiss her back, between her shoulder blades.

  She turns her head and looks up at me, and her eyes are shining.

  “Mmm,” she says. “That feels good.”

  “Yeah.” I’m losing the power of speech.

  “I’m crazy about you,” she says, her eyes closing, then opening slowly, hazy with desire.

  I close my eyes. They are the words I want to hear, but I can’t quite believe them. Being in love and then discovering you can’t have children is one thing, but to go into a relationship knowing you’ll never have a baby together? Could any woman cope with that?

  I don’t want to think about it now. Elen is pushing back against me, and she’s sighing with pleasure. “Mmm… more, Kane. Harder.”

  I grip her chin and kiss her, feeling that odd, feral urge to possess this woman, to make her mine. I’m crazy about you. It makes me glow inside.

  Thrusting harder, I straighten and hold her hips, and soon we’re both heading toward a climax, Elen’s cries of pleasure filling the air. Part of me is vaguely aware that anyone who’s out on the balconies around us will be able to hear her, but I don’t care--I plunge into her beautiful soft flesh and lose myself in her, until she clamps around me. I enjoy those sweet pulses until I can’t take it any longer, and then I let go, enjoying each and every clench, and saying her name as I ride the wave back to the shore.