Chapter 3 Tessa #2
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only feel the fire running through my veins. His thumb dragged slowly across my lower lip, teasing, testing, before he bent and captured my mouth with his.
The kiss was hungry, stealing the air from my lungs. I clutched at his open shirt and tangled the crisp fabric in my fingers as I leaned into him.
He tasted like the Bordeaux we’d been drinking, and he knew what he was doing.
“God, you’re sweet,” he murmured against my lips. His mouth moved down the column of my throat, finding the hollow at its base. “I've never seen you look at me like that.”
“I never let myself.” My voice was unsteady as his tongue flicked across my skin.
“Good thing the storm kept you here, then.” His hand slipped beneath the band of my bra, his palm warm against the swell of my breast. "Maybe we can make up for that lost time."
The words made my stomach clench and my thighs tremble. I arched against him, feeling the hard ridge straining against his boxers brush my hip. He chuckled, as if he enjoyed my reaction.
“Patience, Tessa,” he said, sliding his thumb across the lace. “You’ll do as I say tonight.”
The command sent a thrill racing through me. “Yes, Sir.” I couldn’t help but respond to him the way I did at work, and his growl of approval made my skin prickle with goosebumps.
His hand stayed under the lace, thumb circling until my breath hitched. He didn’t need to raise his voice. The cadence alone put me on edge in the best way.
“Hands behind your back.”
I threaded my fingers at my spine. The posture lifted my chest into his palm and sent a hot, focused pull low in my belly. He watched my face while he tested my compliance with a slow squeeze and a drag of his thumb over the peak.
“When I give you a directive, you answer me.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“That’s correct.” He stepped around me, the heat of him brushing past. “Turn and brace on the table.”
I turned and set my forearms on the table top, cheek to the side so I could still see him out of the corner of my eye.
The surface held a faint chill that cut through the fire in my skin. He placed one hand on my lower back, flattening me to the edge, and the other skimmed the lace at my hips.
The elastic snapped lightly against my skin. The tiny sting made me jolt and bite down a sound I didn’t mean to give.
“You like this,” he said, “me telling you exactly what to do.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” His fingers slid under the lace and found heat. The first stroke made my knees loosen. The second had me breathing hard. “You’re wet enough that I could take you right here.”
“Yes, Sir," I moaned. Shame and want tangled and pulled in the same direction.
He pulled his hand away, and the absence left me shaky and aching for it to return. “Stand up.” My body responded before thought caught up, and when I straightened, he tipped my chin so I couldn’t look anywhere but at him.
His eyes stayed on mine as his knuckle brushed the damp fabric between my legs. The panties were useless now, clinging and soaked.
“Take them off.”
I hooked my thumbs into the lace and slid them down, stepping out of the scrap of fabric while his gaze tracked every movement.
Heat crept up my neck as I straightened again, bare under the firelight, hands locked at the base of my spine where he’d told me to keep them.
“That’s better.” His touch returned, unshielded now, two fingers gliding through the moisture he’d already coaxed from me. The deliberate pace stole my breath, each stroke a reminder that I was exactly where he wanted me—open, obedient, waiting.
His fingers worked inside me, every thrust angled to keep me fighting for balance.
I held my wrists tight behind me the way he’d ordered, my chest lifting as my breath grew ragged.
When he circled my clit once with his thumb and pulled back, the denial was almost painful. My legs shook, and I clenched hard to keep still, determined not to move until he allowed it.
Lucian's hand left me and climbed to the band of my bra. He dragged a knuckle across the thin lace until my nipple hardened against the fabric. “Off.” The command landed heavily.
I reached up, unfastened the clasp, and let the straps fall. The lace slipped down my arms and dropped to the floor and his eyes swept over my chest.
He cupped both breasts and rolled my nipples between his fingers until I arched into his hands, a moan breaking free before I could stop it.
His grip tightened as he kneaded both breasts, his thumbs working my nipples until they ached.
I bit down on the sound building in my throat, but it broke free when he bent and closed his mouth over one, sucking hard before dragging his teeth across the tip.
My hands strained behind me, useless, while my body arched into the rough attention. He switched sides, tugging the other peak into his mouth until I shivered from the sharp pull of heat racing down my stomach.
He straightened, lips wet, his gaze fixed on my face as his hand dropped back between my thighs.
Two fingers slid inside again, deeper this time, his thumb rubbing over my clit with steady pressure.
My legs trembled as the tension built higher, every nerve firing at once. He worked me to the edge, then stopped cold, leaving me gasping, slick, and empty.
He crowded me back until the edge of the counter pressed into my hips. The firelight painted his face in shifting gold, his eyes fixed on mine as his hand slid along my thigh. I gripped the counter behind me for balance, my breath coming fast.
“You’ve been right here in front of me for years, Tessa,” he said, “and I never allowed myself to think about this. Now I can’t stop.”
The confession stole what little breath I had left. I lifted my chin, forcing steadiness into my answer. “Then don’t.”
His mouth crashed onto mine. His tongue left me gasping, his hand sliding higher until his fingers filled me.
The stretch pulled another sound from my throat, and I broke against the counter, clinging for balance as he thrust his fingers into me.
“This shouldn’t be happening,” I whispered because suddenly, the impropriety of it all made it feel that much more intense.
This was my boss. I was just his assistant, and I was naked in his kitchen while he was fingering me.
“It is.” His breath brushed my ear, his hand working me harder. “And you’re going to say yes to me tonight.”
“Yes, Sir.”
His fingers pulled free, leaving me shaking against the counter. I barely caught my breath before he stepped back just enough to shove his briefs down. The sight of him bare snapped every nerve awake again.
“Hands stay on the counter.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He moved in close, one hand braced at my hip, the other guiding himself to me. The thick press made my stomach tighten, my body clenching before he even pushed inside.
“This is the line we can’t uncross,” he said, eyes locked on mine. He was offering me a chance to back out now, to save face and my reputation, but my body wanted him—needed release.
“Yes, Sir," was all I could manage.
He thrust forward, filling me in one hard drive. I gasped, my back bowing as he held me pinned to the edge.
“Christ. So tight.” His grip dug into my hip, steadying me as he buried himself deeper.
“Sir—” The word tore out of my mouth in a grunt.
“Sir—wait.” The word scraped out of me on a ragged breath. My hands tightened on the counter’s edge. “Condom… I need you to wear one.”
His jaw flexed, the heat in his eyes flaring hotter, but he didn’t argue.
He pulled out, leaving me aching and unsteady, and crossed to the pocket of his slacks draped over a nearby chair, pulling his wallet free.
My chest heaved as I watched him tear the foil wrapper open and sheath himself. Then he tore his shirt the rest of the way off and turned back around to face me.
When he stepped back in front of me, the firelight danced in his eyes and I couldn't resist reaching out to touch his skin. His hand curled at my hip again, dragging me flush to the counter’s edge. “Satisfied?”
“Yes, Sir.” My answer was breathless, but steady enough.
“Good. Hands back where I told you.”
I gripped the counter hard enough my that fingertips ached. He pushed inside again, the stretch just as sharp, just as deep, only this time, I let go of the last thread of worry. My body yielded to him, each drive forcing a gasp from my throat.
“That’s it,” he growled. “You take me better than I imagined.”
The pressure coiled low in my belly, building fast under his rhythm, and every time he bottomed out, a squeak left my lips.
He was so long it almost hurt—almost.
His hand slid from my hip to my throat, tilting my head back so he could watch my face while he drove harder.
“You’re mine tonight, Tessa.” His voice was a growl against my ear. “Say it.”
“I’m yours, Sir.” The words rose out on a moan so breathless, I almost couldn't enunciate.
His pace increased, his hips slamming into mine as he thrust into me, and all I heard was the ragged sound of his breathing and the obscene slap of our bodies colliding.
My core was clenched, my body so close I could snap at any second.
“Come for me,” he ordered, his thumb finding my clit like he'd mapped my skin and memorized it.
The command broke me. My body seized, release tearing through me in violent waves as I shuddered and shook, my thighs trembling and my cries echoing in the firelit kitchen, my hands slipping uselessly on the polished surface.
He caught my hip and held me steady, his muscles rigid, driving through every jolt until I was gasping, clinging to the counter.
His thrusts grew rougher, deeper, his pace turning savage as he drove into me over and over, making the counter jolt beneath my thighs.
Every movement stretched me wider, pushed me closer to the edge, until sweat slicked both our bodies and my cries filled the kitchen. His breath rasped hot against my ear, every groan vibrating down my spine.
He pushed in deep, hips shuddering, a low sound ripping from his throat as he spilled into the condom. The pulsing release kept him buried inside, his body rigid against mine.
The pressure, the heat, the sensation of him emptying inside me snapped something loose.
Release surged inside me again, fiercer than the first one, my walls gripping him as wave after wave rippled through me.
My thighs locked around his waist, pulling him closer as he rode me through it, forcing me to convulse around him until I sagged, boneless, against his chest while his arms pinned me steady.
"No regrets?" he asked, his voice rumbling beneath my ear.
"None." I lifted my head to meet his gaze, noting how the harsh lines of his face had softened in the aftermath. "You?"
"How could I regret the best night I've had in years?"
His words made a rush of warmth swirl in my chest. This powerful, controlled man had found something in me worth treasuring, at least for tonight.
And when he turned his head slightly and caught my lip between his teeth with a low growl, it made more heat pool in my core again.
He pulled back, sliding out of me, and I whimpered at the lack of fullness.
But before I could even reach for him, his phone rang, shattering our peaceful cocoon with its harsh electronic trill. He reached for it reluctantly, frowning at the caller ID display.
"It's Daniel," he said, referring to our CFO. "I should take this."
I tensed, suddenly aware of our nakedness and the moisture still puddled between my legs, of how this would look to the outside world. The magical bubble we'd existed in for the past few hours began to deflate as reality intruded.
"Cross here…" Lucian flicked his eyes up at me as he pinched the phone between shoulder and ear, then began rolling the condom off his half-chub dick. My skin prickled with shame.
I could hear Daniel's voice clearly in the quiet room, agitation bleeding through the speaker.
"Lucian, thank God. Have you seen Tessa?
The whole night was a disaster. Half the board is furious about the cancellation, and the rest are demanding answers about where you both disappeared to. The phones haven't stopped ringing."
My stomach dropped to somewhere around my toes. In our wine-hazed bubble, I'd forgotten about the outside world and the consequences waiting for us.
The gala, the board members, the gossip that would inevitably follow our mysterious absence.
"Give everyone a Christmas bonus," Lucian said calmly, his free hand stroking my hair in a gesture that should've been comforting. "Double their usual amount. That should smooth any ruffled feathers."
"And Ms. Wynn?" Daniel sounded annoyed. "People are asking questions. Some of the board members seemed concerned about where she went."
The words sent ice through my veins despite Lucian's warm body beneath me. People were talking. Asking questions. Drawing conclusions.
"Don't worry about Tessa," Lucian replied, his voice taking on that commanding tone I knew so well from board meetings. "I'll make sure she's taken care of."
Lucian's eyes met mine and I saw the hungry way he looked at me as he winked. I wasn't sure what "taken care of" meant, but his fingers on my skin made me want to find out.
Daniel's voice continued through the speaker, but I barely heard him over the roaring in my ears.
When Lucian looked at me like this, I didn't even need wine to lower my inhibitions. I'd do anything he wanted.
And starting Monday morning, that would be a very dangerous way to feel about my boss.