Page 134 of Boss of the Year

“Correction,” he said before breaking into that beautiful smile against my nipple. “Lucas Lyons is a Marie Zola’s boob man.”

I laughed harder when he said the word “boob” with such gravity, and he laughed too, the sound rich and warm.

“Keep going,” I told him.

He did.

“Here?” he asked over my ribs, into the softness of my belly, with a nip at my hipbone.

Eventually, a hand slid between my thighs and nudged them open.

“And here?” A finger teased my heat.

“I…” I gasped as it passed through slipperiness building there, then back down. “Y-yes. Please.”

His lips found my inner thigh. “God, I love it when you beg.” His tongue traced the tender crease at the top of my thigh, and my body quivered, breath catching as he blew against my aching center. “No one’s ever kissed you here, have they, sweetheart?”

My breath hitched. “You know they haven’t.”

“Oh, I know.” His lips pressed a kiss to my other thigh while one finger teased my entance. “I just wanted to hear it from you that I’m your first. Again.”

“Lucas,” I whispered.

“Hush, baby. Just feel it.”

His lips finally sealed around me, tongue stroking, exploring, dipping into the places where I throbbed for him. My back arched clean off the bed.

“Lucas!” I gasped.

“So fucking sweet,” he murmured as he continued his work. “So soft. Somine. Open for me, sweetness. Yes, just like that.”

His arm slid beneath my thighs to hold me wide, and his tongue licked inside, tasting my deepest, untapped spaces while his other hand slid up to thumb my clit.

Oh, God. The internet. Dirty novels. My own imagination.Nothingcame close to what this man was doing with his tongue and his fingers.

“Lucas,” I whimpered to the ceiling while I grabbed at the sheets, the blankets,anythingto hold me down. “P-please.’

“Fuck, you’ll even beg me for an orgasm, won’t you?” He nipped again, then sucked harder on my clit as he slid a finger inside me. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you can come. Go ahead, I can take it.”

With a deep, body-wracking sob, pleasure crashed through me. The arm at my hip pinned me to the bed while I convulsed, and Lucas feasted on every bit of ecstasy I had to offer.

It was only once my moans had subsided to whimpers that his mouth retraced its path up my torso until our hips were level again. By some miracle, his towel was still in place, except now it served solely as a hindrance, less as a tease.

“We can stop.” His voice was low but steady as he pressed kisses to my neck, followed by another to my mouth. “I’d still die a happy man. I swear it.”

There was something salty in his kisses. And a little sweet too.

It was me.

I reached down, heart hammering, and found the edge of the towel. My fingers fumbled at first, but I tugged and looked down the lengths of our bodies, marveling at the contrast. Mine so pale and soft. His hardened and slightly darker, like a cookie that had been baked a few minutes longer in the oven.

And the smooth, silky erection a weight against my skin, thick and so oddly beautiful.

A broken sound tore from his throat as my hips instinctively rolled toward his, urging his cock to slide through the slick proof of what he’d already accomplished.

“Please,” I begged again. “I want to, Lucas. It’s yours to take. If you want it.”

His shivers seemed to shake the entire bed.