Dear Grumpy Boss (Bossily Ever After #1)

7. Zayn

Seven

Zayn

Sasha is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted, and it goes straight to my veins, like some new drug, bringing me under. But instead of calming my dizzying brain, she makes every nerve ending come alive.

Already, I’m addicted to her, like she is to the donuts she sinks her teeth into every morning.

With a muted curse, I grip her chin and tilt it up so that I can better ravish her. I rub and slide my lips over hers, her shallow exhales hitting my lips in another assault.

Suddenly, it’s not a wonder that I waited so long for my girl. Waited for her to feel the same filthy desires for me as I do for her. Without even knowing it, I bound her to me all those years ago with a job. Survived for years on seeing her face first thing in the morning, then flitting about my office like a busy bee.

She has no idea that she anchors me to the world when my brain would prefer to simply disconnect and disengage.

I lick the tiny divot at the center of her upper lip, and trace the perfect bow shape of it with the tip of my tongue. She clings to me—fingers digging into my shoulder blades, making those soft sounds like the kitten she snuggles with in her bed.

Now all her snuggles and her secrets are mine.

I'm so angry for denying myself—and her, for so long, that I dig my teeth into her lush lower lip. Her soft gasp soothes me and riles me in equal measure. I should take it easy, but I don't want to.

Plus, she needs to get used to this, to me. Needs to know that I’m going to eat her out and fill her up with my cum every chance I get. Needs to understand that I’m going to pleasure her so thoroughly that her every breath is going to be a chant of my name.

Now that she’s in my arms, she’s not going anywhere.

This need has built up in me for years. Keeping her at arm's length has chipped away any self-control I can even pretend to possess.

I drag her closer, sneak my fingers under her skirt, fill my hands with the sweet globes of her ass. Her flesh here is soft and dimpled and abundant enough to soothe me.

I bury my fingers at the line where her ass meets her thighs and draw lines down. There are so many things I want to, need to, do to her. Her tits feel like heaven crushed against my chest, and every inch of her is so lush and soft that I want to bite her, mark her. Own her.

“Let me in, Mouse,” I say, growling against her locked lips. “I don’t want some half-assed kiss, as if you’re kissing your adolescent crush.”

Her eyes open. The browns are shot through with desire, but she manages to glare at me. “ You were my adolescent crush, Zayn.” And then, as if she didn’t mean to say that, she drags her lips down my neck and hides her face there.

The sheer innocence of the gesture twists the knot in my chest while her admission…knocks me out at the knees.

I park my hands over her hips, needing to hold on to her. How did she keep it a secret for so long? Why did she never show me that she needs this?

“And now?” I say, licking the shell of her ear. My tone is teasing, a defense against my heart becoming even more hopeful. Already, it is a heavy, crushing thing in my chest—this hope. This emotion for her. “Is the crush gone? Granted, it’s not been that long since you left adolescence behind.”

She struggles against my embrace, and the slide and graze of her tits is torment. If she thinks I’m letting her go after one short kiss, she’s underestimating my madness for her.

Clasping her hips tight, I press into her, letting her feel the thick, hard shape of me.

Her fingers curl around my neck and she gasps.

I lick her lower lip before tugging it between my teeth.

She shudders against me. I sink my fingers into her hair at the back of her neck and pull, until she’s forced to face me. “Tell me, Mouse,” I demand. “Is the crush gone?”

“No. It’s become something else.” She opens her eyes and searches mine. Her tone is both husky and needy. “Now it has claws and teeth and wants all kinds of wicked things. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“No stopping it, Mouse,” I say, turning my head to align my lips with hers. My world is tilted, but with her breath mingling with mine. The tip of her tongue sneaks out and licks my lip in tentative stroke. “No turning back from this. For both of us.”

I don’t know if she understands the proclamation I just made. Only that she presses closer, deeper into me.

When she finally allows me entry into her mouth with an indignant huff, I lick through the sweet cavern like some conquering marauder. I nip and bite, and when she lets out a keening cry, I soothe with swipes of my tongue.

Air is an inconvenience we both need, so I release her sweet mouth. Only for a few seconds though.

Eyes closed, hands caught between our chests, she exhales in rough pants.

I push her hands away and fist the sweatshirt—my sweatshirt that is so perfect on her—with one hand. Her magnificent tits…I need to see, lick and suck them. Claim them as mine, as I will with every inch of her before the sun rises again.

She stares at my hands as I roll the hem up, past her belly, past her tits that fight against my hold. Her thick, wavy hair gets in the way. I gather it with one hand—like I’ve seen her do a thousand times, tits thrusting up—and push it out of the way.

The sweatshirt is off and her nipples—fuck her fat, juicy nipples—are peaked and hard.

Reaching around her waist, I find the zipper on the leather skirt and pull it down. The rustle of it is loud in the silence. The only other sounds are our harsh breaths and the pounding rain outside. The latter perfectly matches the beat of my heart as I push the skirt past her thick, shapely hips.

I step back for a better look.

Desire punches through me, a tattoo in my blood.

For just a second, her hands come together to cover her sex.

My exhale is so loud that she stills and looks up.

Our gazes hold for an eternity of long seconds and rough breaths stitched together. I don’t know what she sees in my eyes. Her hands are shaking, but they fall away to grip the counter behind her.

Holding my gaze, she moves her leg just a little until it’s at ninety degrees to the other foot. Her spine straightens, her chest heaves.

There’s a cluster of ceiling lights right above the sink and they’re all focused on her right now. To say my mind is blown would be an understatement.

Her skin is smooth and golden and her curves are…I have no words. Big tits, thick belly, a tight waist, and hips that I could grip as I pin her to the bed and pound into her. Thick, toned thighs that I want clamped around my head, nearly blacking me out, while I lap up her pussy.

Her panties are the same blush-pink lace as the bra and just as flimsy. My mouth waters as I see the shape of her folds through them and the little wet patch at the center.

Another B grade for my imagination because she’s beyond beautiful and so utterly fuckable. I’m going to glut myself on her.

“Zayn?”

I let my gaze drift over her tits and her belly before I meet her gaze. There’s worry there, but something more too.

“Fuck, Mouse.” I thrust my hand through my hair because I’m shaking with lust. I’m shaking with the need to mess up all of her and I’m not sure if I can hold back this…intensity. “Fuck! Look at you. All grown-up, huh?”

For all that there’s something tentative in her expression, she rolls her eyes. “I’ve been grown-up for a while now, Zayn. You’re the one who’s late to notice.”

Her sass makes my balls tighten up. “That’s what you think.”

“What?”

I shake my head, refusing to overwhelm her right now with hints of my obsession. For two seemingly intelligent people, our wires have been crossed for a while. And I lock up Adam’s name when it floats to my lips.

She doesn’t need to know that, once upon a time, I did worry about her brother’s reaction to my forbidden desire for her. But it had been only a spark and I hadn’t given it much thought.

Only nineteen and her first job and moving in with her grandparents to look after them…she had too many other focuses. But now, she’s ready for me and I refuse to settle for anything less than being the center of her world.

“So, you like my body?”

My head jerks up at her question. It skewers me for her hesitation and doubt, like a fist in my chest. The discomfort is painful enough that it reminds me why I don’t like feeling anything. Why I have only three people in my life.

And she’s one of them—has always been.

“Be a good girl and turn around for me, Mouse.”

Her chin lifts, and her eyes are shimmering with the need to please. She wants my approval… Fuck, does she know what a turn-on that is? “You want me to be a good girl for you?”

“Yes,” I say, licking my lip. “You’re my best friend’s baby sister. You’re shy, bookish, awkward and incredibly…good. And I…get to be the one who ruins all of that innocence, the one who makes you addicted to all the wicked, filthy things.”

“Wow! You have thought about this.”

I nod, loathe to betray more.

She dutifully turns around, muttering, “Okay. Here goes.”

My erection pushes against my sweatpants with a will of its own. Because how is this innocent, sexy siren custom-made for me?

Her ass is round, lush, perfect with dimples and divots I could spend a lifetime exploring. I have to fight the pull of gravity on my knees because all I want to do is bury my face between those ass cheeks. “Turn around,” I say, the harshness from denying myself seeping into my words.

She does.

“How about I show you whether I like your body or not?” I say, skimming my knuckles over her belly. “Would you like that?”

A ripple moves through her. “I…think I will like whatever you do to me, Zayn.”

I grin. “What do you like, though?”

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. I don’t have any experience.”

“What do you mean?”

She takes a long, deep breath, and those tits rise and fall, distracting me. “I’ve only wanted one man since I understood that my body has needs other than food.”

It’s a miracle my head hasn’t swelled to the size of the damn planet. My mouth is dry as I say, “But you read all that…romance stuff. You must know what you like.”

Color flushes her chest and cheeks and it takes me the last ounce of self-control I possess to not lick her up. But if I want to win her over, I need to give her what she wants. What she secretly craves.

I need her to share her filthiest fantasy with me so that I can make it real.

Only me.

“I like it when the hero tells the heroine what to do. When he…” She licks her lower lip, and I feel that stroke on my cock. “Uses her up any way he wants. When he loses control around her because she’s so irresistible.” She searches my eyes, her own wide. “Is that okay?”

I laugh and nod.

Fuck, this girl is my dream come true. She’s going to be the end of me and what a pleasurable end it will be. Instead of answering her question, I press my body into hers and play with the bra strap. Then I pull the cup of her bra down and pinch the plump nipple.

She moans and thrusts her tit into my palm. Grinning, I lean down and lick the peak. And then I lift her tit and push as much as I can into my mouth.

Her moan is so loud that it zings down my spine, going straight to my balls. I lick and tug and suck at the nipple, scratch my cheek against it. Bite the upper curve and then go back to suckling so hard that the sounds I make are filthy to my own ears.

“Do you know how many dreams I’ve had about these fantastic tits?” I ask, swirling my tongue around the peak.

“Unnn…ungg…Unnnggg.” She’s only capable of sounds while her spine arches into my touch. Her fingers twist in my hair and my scalp prickles as she pulls hard, as if to steer my mouth closer and deeper.

“Let’s make you come like this,” I say and smile. Cupping both tits in my palms, I continue the same thorough treatment with my tongue, teeth and fingers. I mark every inch of her soft flesh. I squeeze them together and press my face in them. I suck and suck harder when she twitches in tune with the movement.

She’s writhing against me now, her thighs encasing one of mine and squeezing. Using my thigh as her favorite humping toy.

“Look at me, Mouse. See who’s making you come,” I say.

Her mouth falls open and she looks at me.

I blow a puff of air on the swollen nipple and tug it between my teeth, not quite gently. And then I resume sucking as if my life depends on it.

She comes with a loud, keening moan, jerking against my thigh and squeezing it like a vise. The sound buries itself in my cock, in my heart.

I love knowing that this girl goes off at a hair trigger.

Beads of sweet decorate her forehead and her upper lip and she’s still trembling. I lick up her lips, stealing her soft pants. Her thighs are still clamped around mine and there’s a wet patch on my sweatpants.

One lone tear tracks down her cheek and I wipe it away. There’s more tears of pleasure and ecstasy in store for her.

“You come very prettily, Mouse,” I say, running my thumbs over her wet, swollen nipples.

Her body shudders around me.

She opens her eyes and they are wet too. Her tongue swipes out to lick her lips. “You…I want to please you. What should I do?”

I step back from her, the image of her like this, ravaged at my hands and mouth, now included in the database of her pics in my head. “You can take your resignation back.”

The bastard in me wants her acquiescence before I give her anymore. Or rather, it’s the self-preservation instinct in me. If I go any further, she’s going to own me before I have anything of her. Not that the first hasn’t already come to pass.

Her entire body stiffens. “That’s not how—”

Her phone and mine chirp loudly, one after the other, cutting her off.

“That is how this works,” I say. “If you want more of this, more of me, you stay.”

Picking up the sweatshirt from her feet, I throw it at her without looking back. It kills me to leave her like this, but I have to.

I hear her growl and that too goes to my balls. And I walk out of the penthouse, leaving behind the sexiest creature I’ve ever known. With the most painfully hard cock in the history of erections between my legs.