Dear Grumpy Boss (Bossily Ever After #1)

17. Zayn

Seventeen

Zayn

Every cell in me comes to attention, every muscle bunches with tension. My breath catches in my throat, blocking my words. Or is that my heart—the thing she so boldly demands into her keeping—lurching into my throat, rushing toward her?

“Why?” The word is an unmanly croak but I don’t care.

She pushes onto her toes and rubs her cheek against mine. Call it instinct or wishful thinking, but I didn’t shave before I got here. And the soft hiss that falls from her lips as my skin abrades hers goes straight to my dick. I remember how hard she gripped my head when I brushed my scruff against her inner thigh.

Her fingers lace over my neck and she looks into my eyes. My heart stutters at the pure, unfiltered emotion dancing through those large eyes. Fierce in its conviction.

“Because my heart is yours. It’s always been yours, Zayn. Now, my body knows your special brand of possession and only wants you more.”

I feel like I’m jumping off a cliff and my parachute won’t open. My heart is thumping so painfully in my chest that it’s loud in my ears. “Only yesterday, you were ready to leave me,” I say, singing the same annoying song again.

It might be beneath me, this poking and prodding at her when she looks like she’s unraveling, but when it comes to her, I’m a needy bastard. I want all of her doubts and delusions about me, about us, turned into rubble. And I need to know how badly she needs this. Needs me.

She drags in a deep breath and there’s a spark of anger in her eyes now. “It hurt to stay with you. Day after day watching you, wanting to touch you and hold you and kiss you and getting nothing in return. Some days, especially in the last year, you wouldn’t even spare me a glance or make eye contact. I felt extraneous, like that office cabinet you loathe.”

I send my hands on a quest and they land on the treasure that is her plump ass. I squeeze the taut flesh and pull her closer until she can feel my erection. It prods at her belly, thickening and lengthening at the mere scent of her. “If you came near me, if I breathed in your scent, if I saw you eating a damned fucking donut, this is how I would get.” I grind against her to make my point. “Night or day, tired or distracted, one whiff of your delicious scent, one glimpse of your ass…I would grow painfully hard. And you know how my brain hyper-focuses better than anyone, yeah?”

Lust makes her eyes impossibly bigger. “You did?” There’s less surprise and more glee in that sentence.

“I couldn’t cross that line without knowing where you stood, Mouse. I couldn’t do that to you or to myself. But yesterday,” I swallow and continue, “when you said you were leaving me, my world shattered. And when you asked for a kiss, I hoped we were finally getting to the same fucking page.”

“But you still don’t want me around the office?” Her vulnerability pierces the last standing crust of the shell around my heart. Her neediness is a balm to my own.

I clasp her cheeks and press a kiss to her temple. This girl is so precious to me that I’m afraid to put it into words. “Your dream is too good to just stay a dream, Mouse. When I got the idea to buy that store…I couldn’t sleep all night. I knew that it looked like sending you away. But I’m selfish through and through.”

“How?”

“I wanted you to have everything you ever want in life and still choose me. Want me. I need you to want me when you aren’t attached to the job.”

“You doubt that?”

“I doubt myself,” I say evenly. “I doubt that this is possible for me. This kind of…love.”

“I do want you, Zayn. In every reality.” Her eyes widen and I can almost see the word float to her lips. “I love you,” she says, the entire world and its wonders dancing in those three words.

“Marry me, Mouse. Be my wife. Come to the office with gossip about your store. Arrange my calendar, my sleep, my dreams as you please. Travel with me wherever I go. Be my slut, my cum squeeze, my wife, and the mother of my children.”

I drop down to my knees and press my face into the cradle of her thighs. My good girl is so damp and ready for me that I can smell her musk through the dress. I can’t wait to claim her anymore. I roll the hem of her dress when she sinks her fingers into my hair and she tugs hard.

“Zayn! You can’t just say all that and not wait for my answer!”

I groan as I discover that she’s got no underwear under the damn dress. My girl’s been walking around bare and wet all evening, ready for me.

I look up and meet her eyes even as my fingers sweep through her folds, collecting her juices. Fuck, she’s dripping. “What’s your answer?” I say, demand and challenge in every word. Fear isn’t an emotion I can tolerate, and it makes me an utter bastard. I grab her entire pussy with my palm and squeeze. Make sure to rub up against her clit with the heel. “Do you still plan to leave me and give this pussy to someone else?”

Her eyes roll back and her thighs quake and her breath whistles through her nostrils. “I can’t…Oh God… ungg …”

I thrust one, two, and three fingers into her tight hole and start pumping. She bucks and bows, her fingers tighten in my hair, and she thrusts her hips wantonly into my face. “Zayn…oh God…” And then she comes so violently that my fingers are squeezed tight by her viselike cunt.

I knock her knees until she folds into my arms. She’s soft and warm and entirely too fuckable as she clings to me. I lick my fingers and then kiss her so that she gets a taste of how filthy good she gets for me.

Her brow is sweaty as she looks up at me, her breaths shallow pants.

“So? Will you give me an answer soon or should I fuck it out of you?”

She clasps my cheek, as if to gentle and soothe me. As if she understands the furor in my blood. “Can I give you my answer now but also get fucked so hard that I keep screaming yes?”

I grin, because this good girl is filthy just for me. “Say it then.”

“I want to be your slut and your only cum squeeze and your wife and…” her voice hitches here, “and the mother of your children. You truly want a family? With me?” She pins me with that warm gaze. “You’re not just saying it because you know it’s another of my dreams?”

“I am saying it because it’s one of your dreams,” I say, giving her the truth. “But also, because if it’s your dream, then it’s mine, Mouse. And who knows? You might already be pregnant after last night.”

“Oh, I didn’t even think of that. You steal any sense I have.” Her hands drift to her belly. “You truly want children with me?”

“I see we’re talking in multiple numbers.” I nuzzle her nose. “For you, with you, I want all of the stuff I never had. I want you, and everything you want.”

“You know me well,” she says, burying her face against my throat.

“I do,” I say, rolling her onto her belly.

She presses her cheek to the rug like an obedient pupil and raises her ass as I arrange her the way I want. “I want a family to love.”

“And I want it with you. I want to see your belly swell with my child. I want to suck on your tits when you’re all filled up with milk. I want to see my wonderful girl and her sweet generosity and her warmth and her beauty reflected in my children. I want this life, whatever turns it takes, with you, Mouse.”

Her eyes turn dreamy and she sighs. I don’t know if it’s the filthy vows I’m making her or that I’ve spread her knees far apart enough to see her popped clit.

“Please,” she says, wriggling that bountiful, dimpled ass at me.

I unzip my trousers and take my cock out. I tap it on the plump ass cheek and then without warning, I thrust into her in one hard stroke.

I do it with enough force that she nearly slides out of my grip except that her pussy’s got that death grip on me. Still, I anchor her to me with one hand on her shoulder.

She makes a keening sound from deep in her throat.

Her climax has gotten her all slicked and ready for me but fuck, she’s still tight. I gather her hair and fist it like I’ve dreamed of so many times. Her neck arches back and her spine melts. “Is there something you’re forgetting to say, Mouse?”

Her breath puffs out of thick lips, nostrils flaring. “Now? Please, Zayn. If you don’t move—”

“If you don’t give me an answer, I’m going to pull out.”

“Ugh…you meanie.” She sighs and rolls her eyes and that gaze pins me right in my heart. It’s like she’s sticking one of those colorful Post-it notes that says “Mine” with a pushpin into my heart. “I love you, Zayn. I don’t remember a moment when I didn’t love you. I…I’d love you even more if you filled me up with your cum. The sooner you spill inside me,” she says, thrusting her ass back into me.

“The sooner you’ll be tied to me forever,” I say, pulling almost all the way out and slamming in again.

“I’m…already…tied…to…you…forever,” she says, each word punctuated by a rough thrust. Her mouth forms a perfect moue, little beads of sweat dancing above. “But you didn’t say it to me.”

“I love you, Mouse,” I say, setting a brutal pace. My words are nearly drowned out by the slapping sounds of our bodies so I shout it out. “You and this pussy and those tits,” I pull her up until she’s sitting on my cock, her arms twisted up in my hold, her jostling tits visible in the window glass, “all of you is mine. Forever and ever.”

She meets my gaze in the mirror, her dress bunched up in the middle, her glasses making her look like such a good girl.

“All of me is yours, Zayn. Only yours.” She pouts. “You promised to tell me why it’s okay for you to call me Mouse, remember?”

Laughter bursts through me. “You’re cute, and clever, and resourceful. I never saw anything wrong with that name. Plus, when I was a kid, I had a mouse for a pet. I loved it the most in the world.”

“Oh...” she says, her eyes full of understanding about the nightmare that was my childhood. “I get it.”

I turn her head and take her mouth in a rough, grasping kiss. The more I sip of her, the more I want. But also, finally, there’s this flicker of faith in my stomach that she’s mine.

All mine.

Only mine.

And for that, I’ll give her anything she asks for in the world. I’ll give her so much pleasure that she’s as addicted to me as I am to her.

I play with her tits, kneading and squeezing, tugging the thick, jutting nipples. I play with her clit, give her those circular sweeps she loves so much and bring her right to the edge.

Just when she’s chanting my name endlessly, I plunge up into her wet sheath again.

I proceed to show her how much I love her with every swivel of my hips, with every slap of my balls against her. How much I need her. How filthy and possessed she makes me. How she’s the only future I’ve been running toward all my life.

The next few hours are a haze of fucking and kissing and making our vows to each other.

Over and over again, I come inside her. I demand she give me her throat. I demand to eat her out after we demolish the dinner because I’m voracious for her. Only her. I demand she tell me more of her plans for the bookstore. I demand that she move in with me tonight. I demand she marry me as soon as I can procure a license.

She says yes to every craven demand I make of her, except the last. Because she wants her grandparents present for the wedding.

I’m not happy about the waiting, but I say yes because she’ll be mine forever.

My Mouse.

My Sasha.

My forever love.