I’m about to slip those black panties down her legs when she pulls back and sits up on her knees. She reaches behind herself, staring up at me. I take in a sharp breath because I know I’m about to hold it for a really long time, and Good King Wenceslas, she slowly removes the lacy bra and then tosses it at me. I catch it and clutch it to my heart before discarding it. I see stars and hear harp music, and it’s sexy harp music. My cock feels as big and lit up as the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree.
“Fucking hell, Maddie,” I manage on an exhale.
Her eyelids flutter and I know it’s because I called her by her first name.
“Maddie,” I repeat, crawling toward her.
She backs away from me, dragging herself up to the pillows. She has a smug expression on her face now, emboldened by the unbridled lust in my eyes, I’m sure. She spreads her arms out along the top of the headboard, lifting herself up. When I reach her, I bury my face in her glorious breasts. I emit some sad, not-at-all-cool sound from the back of my throat, but I swear I’ve never been this happy. My hands are all over her, exploring her, claiming her. My mouth is all over her, savoring the taste of her warm skin and hungry for something that I haven’t even let myself fantasize about with her.
She’s straddling me now, bearing down on me and rocking back and forth. Just when I thought she couldn’t possibly find another way to infuriate me, she proves me wrong. And I like it.
I feel like a sex-starved sixteen-year-old virgin, but I’m performing like a man. I know this because I’m making her come again just from licking and sucking. She’s saying my name and Oh God, oh shit, oh fuck over and over again. She’s breathless and amazed and kind of angry—like how dare you make me feel this good?—and it’s so hot.
She lifts herself up a bit and slides one hand down my chest, into my boxer briefs. She strokes the underside of my shaft, gently a few times, up and down, teasing the sensitive spot beneath the head. Carefully, she reaches down again to pay tribute to a part of me that not enough women have tended to in my life—and all I want for Christmas is this. And then she sucks in her breath when she takes hold of me. The firm grip and warmth of her soft hand on the heat of my hard cock, the way she peeks down for a look, biting her lower lip. She’s a naughty girl, and she wants me.
“Get over yourself,” she says when she sees me smirking at her.
“Oh, I have. I’m used to how amazing I am. I’ll just give you a minute to get comfortable with it.”
Before she can give me a snarky comeback, I drag my fingernails down her back—with just the right amount of pressure—and give her a quick smack on the ass. That shudder and gasp tells me she wants another one, and I give it to her.
But then I’m back to her tits because I need to make sure they know how much I care about them. I care about them with my hands, and I care about them with my mouth. I care about the left one, and I care about the right one, and I don’t have a favorite. They’re both the best.
I’m moaning and she’s groaning, and we sound so good together.
I will devour this woman. I could lose myself in this woman, find myself again… But then what?
She senses my apprehension all of a sudden and places her hands on either side of my face. She is returning from her state of ecstasy to check on me. Her eyes are hooded but kind. That combination of genuine concern and desire is what will do me in. I close my eyes and feel her kiss me, gently, on my forehead and then whisper in my ear, “No thinking tonight, Mr. Cannavale. It’s just my body and your body… And us being straightforward and moderately rational when it comes to sex… We will not let this interfere with our fantastic work relationship, come what may.”
God, I love it when she repeats my brilliant words back to me. I open my eyes and see her grinning at me. “‘Come what may?’ Exactly how drunk are you right now?”
“Exactly drunk enough to demand that you fuck me immediately…sir.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Eighteen
Maddie
WE CAME UPON A MIDNIGHT CLEAR
Sweet baby Jesus, it’s happening.
Peace on Earth, good will to my vagina, Hallelujah, for the love of Josh Groban and all things holy, it is finally happening.
I had forgotten that I got a little too enthusiastic while shaving this morning. I was afraid I looked like one of those hairless cats down there, but Declan really seems to like it, and I’ve already had more orgasms in half an hour than I ever had with any of my exes, so I must like it too. Or maybe my body just really likes Declan’s body. Because we’re both hot as fuck and also both so good at knowing that sometimes sex is just sex. Sometimes amazing sex is just amazing sex. And sometimes your blazing hot boss goes to town on your lady bits like he’s competing in the all-new Winter Olympics sport of Tongue Gymnastics.
And he is the world champion. He wins all the gold medals.
He is also very graciously giving me the honor of doing the unveiling of his trophy. I carefully peel the elastic waistband away from his taut, golden skin, and I actually do want to sing a hymn in tribute to this thing. I hate to mix metaphors, but it’s going to be like trying to fit a Costco-sized bottle of champagne into a tiny Manhattan apartment-sized cupboard. I am nervous but also determined. And very, very lubricated. And ready to celebrate making Declan pop his cork.
I swipe the condom package from his fingers.
“I didn’t ask you to assist me with that,” he chastises.
“I’m good at this.”
“You need to get better at taking orders.”
“Maybe you need to get better at giving them.”
I finish rolling the condom onto the impossibly hard length of his erection and then look up at him, my mouth watering. His jaw is so tight. All of his muscles are flexed and ready for action. His whole body is so tense and agonizingly beautiful, his heated gaze is so intense—I almost lose my nerve… Almost.
“Lie down on your back, Maddie,” he growls. “Now.”
I do as he says, resting my head on the pillow and straightening my legs out on either side of him.
He hovers over me, holding himself up with one hand, positioning his cock with the other. “I want you to tell me exactly how it feels to have me inside you. Tell me what you want. Understand?”
“Yes.”
He teases my entrance with the tip. “You ready?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think you are.”
“I want it.”
“You want me?”
“I want you inside me.”
He eases into me. Slowly, slowly.
I gasp. “Oh my God.”
“You’re so fucking tight.”
“You’re so big and it stings, but I’m so wet for you.”
“You are. So wet. You okay?”
“Yes. More.”
He gives me more. Inch by infuriating inch. He whispers on an exhale, “Babyyyyy.”
I slowly bend my legs, tilt my hips, wrap my legs around him. I have to touch his face, feel his stubble on the skin of my fingertips. Kiss his cheek and kiss his open mouth and lick his chin because he’s delicious. “Oh God, I like it. I like how you fill me up.”
“It feels so good.”
“Yes. More.” I don’t even know who this man is to me anymore except the man who’s fucking me and making me feel better than anyone has ever made me feel. He pushes in more, and I jerk up, arching my back, crying out. “Oh God! It hurts, and it’s good.” I wrap my arms around his back so tight and then drag my fingernails across his skin, the way he did to me and it surprised me and I liked it. “Shit. Declan. Stay inside me. Just move and stay inside me,” I plead.
He sucks in a breath and starts rocking into me. My hips match his movements. I accommodate him, and it feels so right, and I’m so mad that we haven’t done this before. I place my feet flat on the mattress so I can move my hips more. He groans, and I remember to tell him how I feel and what I want. “I’m so fucking mad at you for not fucking me
sooner.”
“Me too.”
“Goddammit, this feels better than anything.”
He grunts.
“Fuck me harder.”
He grunts again, and then he fucks me harder. I reach back for the headboard for leverage.
“Give me everything,” I manage to squeak out.
“I don’t think you can handle it,” he mutters.
“Try me.”
I look down at him just once and see the vein in the side of his neck, and then I close my eyes because good Lord, he’s going deeper and moving faster and giving me everything, and I can handle it. I can and I can’t. I just want it. I want him, and I’ve never known this kind of want before.
He’s working so hard, giving me what I asked for.
I couldn’t handle hearing him call me Maddie before, but now I need to hear him say my name. “Declan,” I whisper.
His reply is another grunt.
He’s ramming into me so hard, I can’t hold on to the headboard anymore. My hands slip and my arms spread out to the side, and he doesn’t even look up, but his hand shoots up between the crown of my head and the headboard to protect me. Lightning reflexes. Good heart. I just fell a little bit in love with Declan Cannavale, and I don’t even care because he deserves it.
We’re both slick with sweat now. I press my tits up so he can feel them against his chest as he moves. “Fuck. Maddie.” He groans.
I take his face in my hands again, his stubble softer now from sweat, and I kiss his mouth again, ravenous. He slows his thrusts so I can suck on his tongue. So I can lick his stubbly sexy face. His lips find mine, and he kisses me forcefully. Grabs hold of my hands and holds them over my head. I’m making high-pitched whimpering sounds that I’ve never made before in my life. I want him to stay inside me, and I want to kiss him forever, but this was supposed to be a quick angry hate fuck.
He kisses my neck, licks me all the way from my cleavage up to my chin, and then devours my mouth with his. Our tongues can’t get deep enough inside each other’s mouths. He jerks his head back suddenly, dips his head down to kiss my breasts. He’s so hungry for me, and I want to give all of myself to him. Feed myself to him.
I wrench my wrists free from his grip so I can grab his ass and tilt my pelvis up, wrapping my legs around him again. We’re panting and gasping for air, but I feel like I can finally breathe around him. Like this is the most honest I’ve ever been since I met him.
My hands slide up the length of his torso and into his hair. He’s so deep inside me, and my whole body is full of him and tingling all over, and I think I might actually be happy. I kiss his ear, his neck, his shoulder. I would kiss him everywhere right now if I could.
Just as I’ve relaxed completely into the rhythm of his thrusts, he lifts me up so he’s sitting and I’m straddling him. He kisses and squeezes my breasts, so eager but masterful. Just like before, except he’s inside me now. I rock back and forth and bear down on him. Waves of pleasure take over. His mouth all over me, his cock inside me, his hands on my hips now. I arch my back, reach for the mattress, offering myself to him. He’s so blind with lust, and I still can’t give him enough.
This was supposed to be hard and fast, some wicked voice echoes through my head.
But that voice gets muffled by the one that’s crying out “Oh my God! Declan! Declan! Yes!”
He starts thrusting up into me, so hard and fast, and the dull pain is divine.
Infuriating.
Totally satisfying.
And then he pulls out and it’s devastating. He flips me around onto my hands and knees, grabs on to my shoulder with one hand, my waist with the other, and thrusts relentlessly. It’s pure animal lust, and it’s fucking beautiful because it’s all for me.
“Maddie.” His throat is constricted. He’s so close to the edge, and he’s waiting for my permission to go over, and I fall in love with him just a little more.
I can give him what he needs right now, and I want to. “No one’s ever fucked me this good, Declan. Never, ever.”
There. Best gift ever. Just for him.
He makes the most beautiful guttural noise, and just when I think it’s all for him now, he grabs a fistful of my hair and tugs on it, and I come again. Sharply. Unexpectedly. He slams into me and then wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to him, holding me tight.
I wish I could see his face.
And then I have the craziest wish I’ve ever had—that he could just come inside me.
But that really is crazy.
When he’s completely still, and he’s exhaled all the breath, I let myself fall forward and bring him with me.
He’s still inside me, still half-hard.
He lies flat on my back.
He wraps both arms around my waist.
He kisses my upper back, and then I feel his soft, damp, stubbly cheek against it.
As if he knows how much I love the way it feels, he rubs his cheek into my skin.
“Fuck” is all he says.
And then he doesn’t say anything, and I know he’s asleep.
My cheek is flat against the pillow, but I’m not moving.
My head is still spinning, and my body is still tingling, and we lie like this for a minute maybe, and I swear I can already feel Declan stirring inside me.
This was supposed to be fast. This was supposed to be furious.
I have a feeling it will be, for Round Two, but this first time… This first time with Declan was more. It was more, and it was just the beginning, and I’m not even scared right now because it was so good. And we both deserve to feel good. Even if it’s with each other.
Even if it won’t last.
Maybe even if it will.
Nineteen
Declan
O HOLY SHIT
What’s the actual last thing you’d ever want your executive assistant to see you doing the morning after you had hot drunk, angry sex with her in a terrible hotel room? Dancing around your terrible hotel room to “Come and Get Your Love” like Star-Lord in Guardians of the Galaxy—naked? Yeah. Me too.
And yet, here we are.
My damp, naked self and my assistant and some lady in a pantsuit.
“Um. You weren’t answering your phones or the door,” Maddie says, her face tense because she’s trying so hard not to laugh. “So I was worried you had passed out or something… This is Karen. She works for the hotel. She let me in.”
“Hi, Karen,” I mutter through gritted teeth. There’s no point in side-stepping back to the bathroom because they can’t unsee what they just saw.
Karen finally manages to tear her bulging eyes away from the general area that I’m covering with my hands. “Hi… Um. We’re very pleased to have you here at The Twinstar, Mr. Cannavale. I actually heard you singing at the bar last night, and I really enjoyed it. You have a really great voice.”
“Fantastic. Thanks.”
“Thank you for your help, Karen.” Maddie gives her a wide-eyed toothy grin. “That will be all.”
“Right.” Karen takes one last look at my big sexy hands over my big sexy junk before turning away and waving. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can—”
“Thank you, Karen!” Maddie and I both yell out at the same time.
Karen nods and says, “Happy holidays!” as she exits the room, shutting the door behind her.
Now I’m alone with the succubus. I woke up after noon, thinking last night might have been a dream. A really long, incredibly realistic, filthy sex dream. Because I woke up alone in my bed, with rumpled sheets and the heavenly scent of Maddie Cooper’s magical pussy all over them. Only I didn’t feel depleted. I felt energized. I felt happier than I’ve felt all year.
Which is why I was listening to the radio while I was in the shower. Which is why I was singing and dancing around to “Come and Get Your Love” while I was in the shower. And why I continued singing and dancing around to “Come and Get Your Love” after I had gotten out of the shower. Because I
thought I was alone. And I was happy.
And now, this.
She’s fully dressed in a nice pair of jeans and a tight sweater, and it is very fitting that I am standing naked before her. Although, I feel less naked now than I did at certain times last night. And I’m not talking about how I was physically naked when I was coming in her mouth or when I was growling “You like that don’t you, dirty girl?” when I was balls deep or when I was literally fucking her sideways on the sofa. I’m talking about how good it felt to call her “babyyyy” when I was pressing myself inside her for the first time. I’m talking about how it felt like my heart might burst—not because I was fucking her like a raging bull but because she was stroking and kissing my face like she needed it as much as I did. I’m talking about all the times I had to hold my breath just to keep from blurting out “I love you” when I was coming, because it felt more like love than anything I’ve felt in years.
Maybe ever.
And I swear, she was kissing me harder and deeper, just to keep herself from saying it too.
But if she’s thinking about any of those things we did and said and didn’t say last night, she isn’t revealing it on her annoyingly fresh and smirky face right now.
She clears her throat. “Can I get you a towel?”
“I can get one myself, thanks.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to do it anytime soon?”
“Are you going to just stand there staring at me forever, or is there a particular reason you were trying to get ahold of me?”
“I’ve been texting and calling you all morning.”
I’m finally realizing I don’t even know where my phone is. The one person I’ve always wanted to call or text for the past two months was with me, so I didn’t give a shit where my phone was. Maddie looks around, sees my pants from last night on the floor, and pulls my phone out of one of the pockets.
“You’d better charge it,” she says, holding the phone out to me.
I don’t reach for it because I’m still covering my junk.
A Very Bossy Christmas Page 9