The Boss Crush

by Penny Wylder

  “You really are amazing; you know that right?”

  “Amazing how?” I ask.

  My eyes float to his lips, the same lips that once tasted like fruit punch and felt like velvet. The same lips that almost kissed me a day before. The same lips I've thought about over the years, and only ever had in my dreams.

  He runs his tongue across his bottom lip, and sets down his food. “You're different than the other artists I've met. I've been around so many since Sandy and I started this company, and none of them talk like you.” He's somber, his eyes trace mine, the piercing blue so bright I can see my own reflection. “You have passion, you talk about art with such emotion that even I can feel it. That's not just amazing, it's refreshing.”

  A breeze rolls across the rooftop, making me shiver. Lyle's eyes move around my body, noticing the light shake. Pulling his jacket off, he comes behind me, and wraps it over my shoulders.

  I inhale, a deep, slow breath. His cologne swirls across my face, seeping into my body like a warm drink. It heats my lungs, and it warms my belly like a shot of whiskey.

  It's not the same scent I remember from when we were kids. Back then, he was a boy, despite how much I looked at him like he was a man. I can smell the difference between the boy and the man now.

  The boy smelled sweet, he lacked the confidence a man has. But the man now, he knows what he wants, and that's all it takes to make my muscles feel like wet spaghetti and my head to swim.

  Snuggling into his jacket, I inhale another deep breath. I can't help it. The thick musk is creating a new memory of Lyle in my brain, replacing the boy I left in the past with this man. Because the boy is tainted with hate. I hated him that day. I hated him for as long as I could remember after that. I still hate that boy now.

  But I don't hate this man. Not with this night, on this roof, with this jacket around my shoulders.

  “I dreamt about a night like this with you.” My voice is a whisper, so light it gets caught by the wind and blown away.

  Lyle curls his fingers around my shoulders and lowers his face so we're cheek to cheek. “What?” he asks, his mouth so close to my ear I can feel him speak.

  Twisting my face to his, our lips brush, creating an explosion of sparks across my skin. His eyes are frozen on mine as we just stay like that. Lips to lips, breathing the same air, sitting in silence.

  Lyle makes the first move, tempting my mouth with his tongue. I open my lips, accepting him easily. This kiss is the kiss I've been waiting seven years for. A kiss with no boundaries. A kiss with no rules or walls, no expectations or defining motives.

  A kiss without regrets.

  Lyle slips his fingers into my hair, pulling my head back softly, deepening our kiss. My eyes are open, and the look on his face is fierce, hungry, almost painful as our kiss turns from slow and sensual into greedy.

  I can see the starvation in his gaze. The pits of his eyes turn dark as a shaded pool as his tongue drives deeper.

  We shouldn't do this. This is wrong.

  He's my boss!

  The thoughts creep into my head, then quickly get dashed as he grips my thigh with his other hand. His fingers slink down, moving closer and closer to the wetness between my legs. I'm dripping, I can feel it.

  This sensation is irresistible. Even if I want to say no, my body will never let me. His hands feel too good, his lips feel too perfect, his tongue tastes too sweet.

  I'm screaming on the inside, already begging him for more with every pass of my tongue over his, and sweep of my thighs over each other to satisfy the throb of my clit.

  Lyle moves around so he's standing in front of me, and drops to his knees as we kiss. Our lips never break apart. We kiss as if it's our first and our last time, we kiss as if we've lost and found each other all over again.

  In a way, I guess I we have.

  He spreads my legs apart with his hips, working his way in between, as my skirt bunches up around my waist. My heart is in my throat, pounding so loud I wonder if he can hear it too.

  Thump thump.

  Thump thump.

  Blood rushes between my ears, drowning out the noise from the street below us. My eyes search his, wondering if he's second guessing what we're doing.

  His fingers dig into the back of my skull, massaging down my neck with hard strokes, erasing any doubt. He wants this too.

  Lyle's hand keeps moving, lower and lower until both his hands are wrapping my thighs under my skirt. He growls into his kiss, his tongue forceful as it tastes mine, sucking my tongue into his mouth.

  “Is this what you've always wanted?” he asks between kisses, his voice thick and rough. “Me, taking you how I want you?”

  “Yes,” I say with a nod and a moan as his fingers move closer to my pussy. My thighs are shaking, trembling under his touch, and I can't control it.

  “You want to feel me touch you here?” he asks, gliding his fingers down between my tits and circling one at a time. I shake my head yes. “You want to feel me here?” His fingers move down over my trembling belly, and stop just above my pussy. “And here?” The tip of his finger moves tortuously slow and stops at my clit. He doesn't use any pressure, he just hovers there, over my panties, causing my tender bud to ache and my muscles to convulse with need.

  I'm going to fucking lose it if he doesn't touch me with more than the weight of a feather soon. My hips buck up, attempting to force his touch on me.

  “What's wrong?” he asks, his voice sultry and sleek as he cups my mound. “Impatient?”

  I nod, fully aware of the desperation in my voice as I say, “Please, I can't take it anymore.”

  His smirk thickens, enjoying this game he's playing with my body. The tip of his finger runs down and then back up my slit, pressing my panties between my lips. The edge of his finger grazes my clit, sending a torrent of tingles across my body. My nipples pebble, turning into stone as he begins to circle my clit with more direct strokes.

  Moaning, I close my eyes, letting him work my body. He's right when he asks if I've always wanted this. And that scares me. If he can know me this well, what else does he know?

  Does he know how many nights I pleasured myself to thoughts of him?

  Does he know how many times I imagined what it might feel like to have him inside me?

  Does he know how many years I've loved him?

  A shiver scales my body as he bites my neck, bringing me back to here and now, the one where we actually exist together. Back to his kisses on my throat, and firm finger rubbing my clit. Pushing my panties to the side, Lyle softly drags his fingers through my wet folds.

  I grow wetter and wetter with every stroke, the pads of his fingers are slick and smooth, gliding easily over my lips.

  “Does that feel good?” he asks, his words hot as they hit my cheek.

  “It feels incredible.” Opening my legs wider, I tilt my hips up, giving him plenty of room to work.

  My body is moving on its own, giving him cues to what it wants and what it needs. Lyle smirks as he drives two fingers in so deep his knuckles hit my clit. Pulling out, he drives them in again, curling the tip of his finger.

  I buckle beneath him, raking my fingers across his shoulders and spearing him with my nails. I need to hold on or I'm going to fall out of the chair.

  My clit is throbbing, pulsing so violently it hurts. I want him to go harder, faster. My hips jerk against his hand, trying desperately to bring myself to climax. I need it, I want it. I can feel the orgasm as it bubbles in the depths of my core, growing like a wildfire I can't contain.

  But Lyle won't let me cum, and he's enjoying every second of that power. The control. The way he's in charge of my body. The way his fingers make me squirm and writhe with his touch.

  His lids lower, eyes piercing me, and holding me still. He lets me get close, so fucking close, and then he steals it away with a sly grin on face.

  His fingers play me like an instrument, plucking and strumming chords that are so tender my impulses are gone. He pulls o
ut, and my pussy bears down to hold him in. He pushes back in, and my walls clench hard around his fingers, begging him to stay.

  Growling, Lyle's cock presses against the inside of my thigh as he works my pussy. He's rocking against me with the same pace that he's fingering me.

  There's a look in his eyes, it's feral, animalistic, as if he's lost all sense of being a man. He's starving. He's wild. He's ready to tear me apart.

  And I want him to. I'm ready for it. If he doesn't take me soon, I'll jump him myself.

  Driving his fingers inside, he uses his thumb and rubs my clit. My thighs trap his hand in place, and I suck in a giant gasp of air. I'm so close, I'm right there, and then I stop him myself.

  Holding his hand, I stop him from letting me take that leap off the edge. “No,” I say all breathy and ragged. “Not yet, no matter how much I beg you.”

  “Is that a challenge?” he asks, arching one brow as his thumb gently teases my swollen button.

  “It's a request. This feels too good to let it end so quickly, to let it happen before you're even inside me.”

  I want to savor this feeling. The rush. The icy shiver that's working its way around my body. I've waited too long to just let it win. This needs to be enjoyed, and slowly. It's like having an entire meal in front of you and eating it all in five seconds.

  You don't get to enjoy any of the flavors if you swallow it all in one bite. Let it sit, let it soak in to all your senses. Give yourself the full experience.

  “You want me in you?” he asks, grinding his dick against my leg.

  Squeezing his wrist, I let my eyes steady on his. “No more games, Lyle. I want you to fuck me,” I say, my voice firm, but eager. “Just fuck me.” If he doesn't, I'm going to lose my damn mind.

  His eyes dart between mine as he lifts a hand to cup my cheek. Running his thumb across my bottom lip, I moan with his touch. He stares into my eyes, sucking his lip into his mouth and biting down.

  “I'll fuck you my little artist, and I'll make you come so hard you won't be able to walk tomorrow.” Using one hand, he pulls the button on his pants free, and the sound of his zipper fills the quiet between us. He pushes his pants and boxers down his hips until his cock juts out, thick and long. The tip is glistening, swollen and red, the vein underneath is pulsing as his cock twitches.

  “Is this what you want?” he asks, gripping his length and stroking down to the base. He holds his shaft, moving back up and squeezing the tip. “You want to finally feel what it's like to have me inside you?” I nod yes, spreading my legs open for him. “Good, because I've thought about your pussy for years.”

  Lyle drags the tip up and down my wet slit, coating it in my arousal. Then devastatingly slowly, he pushes his hips forward until his hips are touching me. Dropping my head back, I close my eyes, allowing my body to adjust to his size.

  Condom? The fleeting thought comes and goes as he pulls back and thrusts forward, shoving the thought from my head. I'm on birth control, it'll be fine.

  His fingers hold my hips, moving around to scoop my ass in his hands, to lift me a little off the chair. Lyle's on his knees in front of me, the open sky above us, and everything about this feels right.

  I feel like this never happened before because it was meant for right now. Everything is perfect. The temperature of the air, the crystal clear sky, the way my body fits around his like it was made for him.

  Pistoning his hips, he fucks me hard, he fucks me fast, he fucks me like he needs me to live. Nothing else matters. Just this. Just now.

  Tearing at the collar of my dress, Lyle breaks the top few buttons, exposing my bra. He roughly pulls out my breast from the cup, before he leans forward and sucks it into his mouth. “Mm,” he moans, running his tongue across my chest to the other breast.

  My fingers cut through his hair, snagging and curling, and tugging at his roots. Grinding up, I match his thrust with one of my own. My clit rubs against his lower belly and I can feel the orgasm as it electrifies my core.

  It's hot, making me warm from the inside out. It spreads over my skin, leaving me in a dewy sweat as I moan even louder. With one final thrust, Lyle grunts, and I feel his cock as it spills warm cum deep inside my pussy.

  It's pulsing, over and over, filling me to the point it seeps down my ass and onto the chair.

  Dropping his forehead against my chest, he's breathing hard. My hands fall onto his back, and ride each inhale, our chests hitting in the middle with each lift.

  “Holy shit, Dalia,” he says between breaths. “Holy fucking shit.”

  “Right, wow.”

  “I have no words right now.” Tilting his face, he rests his cheek between my breasts. “I'm serious, that was incredible.”

  My fingers play with the ends of his hair, twirling them into tight spirals. I'm smiling, there's no way for me to stop. I feel so damn good.

  I can feel his pulse as it beats against my chest. It's quick, thump after thump beating against my ribs. And in this second of silence, in this one single moment where I can feel all of him, I see myself.

  I see where I was in my past, and I see where I ended up. I can see what led me here, to this moment, to this one blip in time.

  But none of it compares to what I see in my future.

  When you know something before you say it out loud. When you feel it before it's returned to you by another; you just know.

  Lyle Vox is meant to be my future.

  He just doesn't know it yet.

  6

  Lyle

  “Gotcha,” I say quietly into her ear as I wrap my arms around her waist, capturing her as she steps through the doorway of the break-room.

  Taking a few short steps, I move her forward and shut the door behind us. The break-room is quiet and empty. No one is around, it's just us.

  “Jesus, Lyle, you scared me,” Dalia says under her breath as she grabs my hands, and looks back at me over her shoulder. “What are you doing? Someone could see us.” Kissing her neck, she slips her hand up into my hair, sending tingles down my spine.

  “You're right, they could. That's kind of hot don't you think?” I slide my hands down her hips and over her ass. “The thought of someone walking in and seeing us here like this, it's turning me on.”

  We've been keeping things really low key for the past couple weeks, doing our best to make sure we stay under the Sandy radar. So far, it's worked. She doesn't suspect a thing. But I'm growing less and less concerned about what she thinks.

  I'm at the point where I don't really care. But Dalia still does, and out of respect for her, I'll keep my mouth shut until she's ready.

  Shifting my hips, I rub my cock against her. Her body stiffens, and she sucks in a breath. “Lyle, we can't, not here.”

  “Says who? I thought I was the one in charge?” Twisting her around, I lift her off her feet easily and set her on the table.

  She lets out a sexy little gasp as her back straightens. “Lyle, we really need be careful. What if San—”

  “Let me worry about her.” I step between her legs, spearing them open with my knee. Holding her knees, I smile. “You just sit back and enjoy.” I move my hands higher, slipping under the edge of her skirt and disappearing.

  My thumb brushes against the outside of her panties. She's already soaked. My thumb sweeps back and forth, rubbing her wet center.

  “Lyle, what are you doing?” she asks as a shiver scales her body.

  “I'm hungry.” My tone drops, and I drop to my knees with it. Butterflying her legs wider as I lick my lips and look up at her.

  Dalia darts her eyes to the door, and reaches down to try and tug her skirt to cover herself up. “Lyle, we shouldn't be—”

  “Sh,” I say softly, gently moving her hands. “I've been thinking about your pussy all morning, now I need a taste. I'm not waiting a second more.”

  Dalia's eyes are huge, and she keeps glancing at the door like she expects someone to come in any second.

  “Relax, and just trust me. No one'
s coming in.” Pulling her panties to the side with one finger, I run my tongue up her center, and circle her clit.

  Her entire body shakes as she lays her head back and closes her eyes. Fuck I love that, I love how her body melts in my mouth. The tension in her muscles loosen as the tip of my tongue flicks up and down, and I suck her clit into my mouth.

  Dalia moans quietly, digging her fingers into my hair and tugging at the roots. She leans back further, forcing her pussy into my mouth. Everything about this is wrong. And I fucking love it.

  Her hips rock, and she fucks my face as I dip my tongue inside her entrance. She tastes sweet, so fucking delicious I could do this all day. Dalia digs her heels into my back, releasing my hair, and slamming her hands down on the top of the table.

  She nibbles on her bottom lip as I massage her clit, doing everything she can to hold in her scream. But she wants to let it out, I can see it. Her chest expands as she holds her breath and her nails scrape the table top.

  Her hips wriggle and buck, almost forcing her to jump off the table. Digging my fingers into the meat of her ass, I hold her in place. My tongue glides in long strokes up her center, moving from clit to entrance and back again.

  I can feel her pussy throb against my tongue. Swallowing her flavor, I don't waste a single drop. She tastes too damn good. My cock is painfully hard, begging to be inside her, but this isn't for me. This is for her.

  She's rocking her hips faster and faster, grinding against my mouth as devour her like a starving animal. I suck on her clit, rapidly flicking the tip of my tongue in short snaps. This woman is fucking intoxicating.

  I've never been more drunk in my life, and all I want is more. I'm fucking greedy, needing more, desiring more, taking more.

  Dalia reaches back into my hair, tearing hard as she lets out a moan that's mostly air. Her clit beats in my mouth, pulsing as the orgasm sweeps through her body.

  Fixing her panties, I stand up, wiping her orgasm off my lips and licking my fingers clean. “You taste so damn good, you know that? I love the way you taste.”