Page 109
Story: Sexting the Boss
I haven’t felt this out of control in a long time. Maybe ever.
Her eyes flutter open at the movement, still hazy with the aftermath of her orgasms. When she notices where my hand is—and how hard I am—her gaze widens.
“Damien…” Her voice is husky, thick with desire. “You’re so…big.”
I hear the faint disbelief and awe in her tone, and a low, ragged sound escapes my throat, something between a groan and a growl.
I can’t find words.
My mind is too focused on the rush of heat coursing through me.
She slides one hand across my chest, fingers grazing the smattering of silver-dark hair there, then lower, exploring the lines of muscle. Her other hand slips between us, brushing mine aside, taking my cock in her smaller grip.
A hiss of pleasure rips from my chest the moment her palm connects with my length.
Fuck.
My eyes slam shut briefly, and I have to remind myself not to thrust forward into her touch like some desperate animal.
She makes a soft, breathless noise, stroking me with cautious curiosity, her brows drawn together in concentration. The sight of her—lips parted, eyes locked on what she’s doing—nearly undoes me.
“Sasha,” I manage, voice hoarse, fighting the urge to lose it right here. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
She looks up, meeting my gaze.
There’s a small smile on her lips—part shy, part wicked—and it’s enough to make my heart slam against my ribs.
“I think you’ll survive.”
I let out a strangled laugh, leaning down to steal another kiss, my hand covering hers on my cock. Tension coils in my belly, heat thrumming through me.
Her fingers close around me, sliding slowly from base to tip, the pressure making my head spin. I grit my teeth, a shudder racking my frame as I meet her gaze.
“Sasha,” I manage, my voice tight with need. “I?—”
She tilts her chin up, a hint of a daring smile ghosting her lips. “Don’t tell me you’re already at your limit,” she teases, but there’s a trembling note behind her words that betrays her own nerves.
My lungs burn as I inhale. I force a smirk, one hand sliding along her thigh to gently urge her legs open wider. “Never,” I murmur.
The humor fades from her eyes the moment I shift, lining myself up at her center, bracing one forearm beside her head to steady us. My free hand rests on her hip, thumb brushing a slow circle over her skin.
Time seems to slow, her breaths turning shallow, matching my own.
The slick heat of her entrance is nearly too much.
I have to shut my eyes briefly, or I’ll lose control right here.
I press forward, the head of my cock breaching her slowly.
She’s so tight—tighter than I expected. A small gasp escapes her, and I still instantly, a surge of protectiveness coiling through me.
My gaze snaps to her face. Her lips are parted, eyes wide, pupils blown, and it hits me like a punch—this is new for her.
God.
My chest constricts.
Why didn’t I realize it sooner?
Her eyes flutter open at the movement, still hazy with the aftermath of her orgasms. When she notices where my hand is—and how hard I am—her gaze widens.
“Damien…” Her voice is husky, thick with desire. “You’re so…big.”
I hear the faint disbelief and awe in her tone, and a low, ragged sound escapes my throat, something between a groan and a growl.
I can’t find words.
My mind is too focused on the rush of heat coursing through me.
She slides one hand across my chest, fingers grazing the smattering of silver-dark hair there, then lower, exploring the lines of muscle. Her other hand slips between us, brushing mine aside, taking my cock in her smaller grip.
A hiss of pleasure rips from my chest the moment her palm connects with my length.
Fuck.
My eyes slam shut briefly, and I have to remind myself not to thrust forward into her touch like some desperate animal.
She makes a soft, breathless noise, stroking me with cautious curiosity, her brows drawn together in concentration. The sight of her—lips parted, eyes locked on what she’s doing—nearly undoes me.
“Sasha,” I manage, voice hoarse, fighting the urge to lose it right here. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
She looks up, meeting my gaze.
There’s a small smile on her lips—part shy, part wicked—and it’s enough to make my heart slam against my ribs.
“I think you’ll survive.”
I let out a strangled laugh, leaning down to steal another kiss, my hand covering hers on my cock. Tension coils in my belly, heat thrumming through me.
Her fingers close around me, sliding slowly from base to tip, the pressure making my head spin. I grit my teeth, a shudder racking my frame as I meet her gaze.
“Sasha,” I manage, my voice tight with need. “I?—”
She tilts her chin up, a hint of a daring smile ghosting her lips. “Don’t tell me you’re already at your limit,” she teases, but there’s a trembling note behind her words that betrays her own nerves.
My lungs burn as I inhale. I force a smirk, one hand sliding along her thigh to gently urge her legs open wider. “Never,” I murmur.
The humor fades from her eyes the moment I shift, lining myself up at her center, bracing one forearm beside her head to steady us. My free hand rests on her hip, thumb brushing a slow circle over her skin.
Time seems to slow, her breaths turning shallow, matching my own.
The slick heat of her entrance is nearly too much.
I have to shut my eyes briefly, or I’ll lose control right here.
I press forward, the head of my cock breaching her slowly.
She’s so tight—tighter than I expected. A small gasp escapes her, and I still instantly, a surge of protectiveness coiling through me.
My gaze snaps to her face. Her lips are parted, eyes wide, pupils blown, and it hits me like a punch—this is new for her.
God.
My chest constricts.
Why didn’t I realize it sooner?
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