10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Tage
I smile to myself as I leave the bathroom, holding back a full-on laugh that’s bubbling up in my chest. The look on his face was priceless.
The man is desperate for me, and I won’t lie—I like the way that feels. Not because of him being rich, but because under all of the CEO bullshit, he’s fun. He’s kind. And he’s hot as hell.
And it’s not that I won’t fuck him again. Because I want to. I just need him to know that I’m in control. That I make the decisions, and he can say or do or buy whatever the hell he wants, and it won’t sway my decision.
Because it is my decision, and I’m strong enough to make it on my own.
I walk out of his room and across the living and into my bedroom, where I hop in the shower to wash up.
When I’m done, I throw on sleep pants and a t-shirt.
Then I make my way back to the living area, sit on the over-sized couch, and turn on the TV.
I’m surprised he hasn’t hunted me down yet, but I guess it would make sense that he’s taking a while… he does have business to attend to.
Which has a bit of jealousy rising up in my chest. I don’t want him jerking off when I’m right here for him to use, but if he chooses that route, it is my fault.
I’m just hoping he comes out here to argue about it.
A little fight before fucking with him will be good. Playing hard to get? I like that.
It was good the first time, but add a little passion and frustration? It’ll go from a 9/10 to a 10/10, hands down.
I scroll through the channels, settling on The Unexplained. I’ve never been into history much, but the show is interesting and always holds my attention. I think it’s the way they dig into things and explain them.
Lane comes out of his room roughly twenty minutes later, dressed in sleep pants and a grey t-shirt. He drops onto the couch beside me and says nothing.
Not a single word.
His gaze is on the TV, and there’s nothing about him that tells me he’s annoyed.
He really must have jerked off in there if he isn’t holding onto any sexual frustration.
Fuck. I just ruined my chance to get fucked.
Okay, not really. He said all I had to do was ask, but if I ask now, he’ll probably tell me to go fuck myself… the same way he had to.
“You’re not going to say anything?” I blurt out.
“About?” he asks, sounding nonchalant. Keeping his attention on the TV, like he has no interest in me or what I have to say.
“Seriously?”
His head slowly turns toward me. He looks almost bored. “What do you want me to say?”
I narrow my eyes. “Did you get yourself off in the bathroom?” I ask.
The corner of his lips tug upwards. “Is that what you were imagining?”
“Did you?”
“No, I did not get myself off in the bathroom, Tage. Why do you want to know?”
Well, now I feel stupid. But also relieved.
I lunge for him. There’s no other way to explain the way my body moves toward him. It’s like a magnet being pulled. Everything happens so fast.
Our mouths crash together, his teeth digging into my lip and maybe causing blood. I’m straddling him while his hands grasp my ass. I moan into his mouth, feeling him hard beneath me.
“What did I tell you?” he growls out as his mouth moves to my neck.
“Fuck me,” I demand. “I want you to fuck me.”
“See, was that so hard?” he taunts.
“Fuck you.”
“Not happening, Tage.”
He stands, lifting me with ease and walking me… somewhere. I’m placed down on a bed—I don’t know if it’s his or mine and I don’t care. His body falls over me, his mouth still on my neck. My eyes refuse to open, my other senses taking control. Feeling is so much more important than seeing.
My hands run up and down his back, grazing over muscles I didn’t realize he had. I saw the tone of his arms, but feeling them now, I realize they are firmer than they look.
I didn’t do much touching that first night. It was more of him telling me what to do and just taking it, because sometimes that’s what I like to do.
But right now, I need to feel something.
Someone.
Him.
Lane Monroe.
My boss.
“Please tell me you brought condoms and lube.”
He huffs a laugh as he nips at my chin. “Of course I did.”
He doesn’t stop to get them though, just makes his way down my neck again, tugging at the collar to get to my shoulder. He bites me firmly enough that I feel it but then kisses it better.
“Fucker,” I mutter, and he laughs again.
His hand slides beneath my shirt, moving along my stomach and dragging his nails gently down. Goosebumps erupt along my skin, and I moan, my hips lifting off the bed, chasing him.
“Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he says.
“I already did.”
He looks up at me, eyes burning into mine. “Do it. Again.”
I place my hand on his chest, pushing him up. He moves easily, and not because of my strength. I roll onto my stomach and look at him over my shoulder.
“Fuck me, Lane,” I say. “Just like this.”
His hands slide up my sides, his tongue dragging along my spine. He pushes my face into the mattress while his other hand goes over my ass, squeezing and tugging at my pants.
A finger drags through my crease, pressing against my hole.
“I’ve thought about this pretty little hole for weeks, you know.”
“I know,” I moan, my dick throbbing.
“Yes, I bet you do, don’t you?”
I wiggle my hips. “Lane, please—”
He leans over me, kissing my cheek before whispering in my ear, “Be right back.”
My heart pounds heavily as he moves across the room, unzips his bag, and rummages around. I know he’s back when I feel his mouth on my ass, kissing and sucking. I moan, pressing into him, moving to guide his mouth where I want him.
He obliges, of course, moving right to my hole and eating me like he’s been dreaming about it for decades. His hands massage my ass as he licks me, and I try to stop myself from humping the bed. It’s not easy, though, because it feels so good. The friction. The pressure. His tongue.
“Lane,” I moan. “Your dick. In my ass. Please.”
He spanks me, the loud slap echoing through the room. It jolts me, and a yelp comes out of me.
“When I say.” He slips a finger inside and continues to lick my hole at the same time. My body tenses for just a second before relaxing and allowing him deeper.
It feels so good.
So fucking good.
“Don’t make me come like this,” I whine, gripping onto the blankets so hard my fingers burn.
His tongue is gone, but he adds a second finger, fucking me slowly. I hear him panting behind me; I can imagine his face flushed the way I’m sure mine is.
“Lane—” I look over my shoulder to catch him tearing open the condom packet with his teeth. His gaze finds mine, holding it steady as he rolls the rubber onto his cock in a way that’s almost taunting. My hole throbs, wanting him inside of me so I can come.
And just feel him there…
He steps forward once the condom is fully on, lines himself up and slowly pushes inside. My eyes fall closed and I let out a low sigh as my face hits the mattress again.
Lane bottoms out, leaning over me to grasp my hair. He pulls my head back and slams into me while his other hand grasps my hip.
Note to self: don’t cut your hair too short.