Page 135 of Boss of the Year

“Marie,” he groaned as the tip of him teased my entrance. “God, I wish I could just—but I have to protect you, baby.”

Of course. Lord, nothing screamed virgin like forgetting something so basic as birth control, did it?

Lucas’s lips were a quick press of passion before he stood to retrieve a condom from his bag and roll it on. Just as quickly, he returned between my legs as he kissed me, slow and deep, a promise. One hand braced beside my head, and the other guided himself to where I was still dripping, still aching for him.

The thick head nudged against my entrance, and I gasped, tightening in anticipation.

“Are you sure?” His eyes were filled with so much uncertainty, it almost broke my heart.

Because in that moment, I’d never been more certain of anything in my life. Everything outside this room had ceased to exist. My family? I’d forgotten their names. Daniel? A ghost from another life. London, New York, São Paulo, Tokyo…they were all cities that might as well have been made-up places.

All that existed was this man. This bed. This moment.

I slid my hands down his back, took hold of his hips, and pulled. “I don’t want to beg anymore, Lucas. I just want you.”

“Thank fucking God.” His mouth took mine with another desperate kiss as he slid home with one intense shove.

I arched on a hiss, both from the shock of pain as well as the sudden size and overwhelming fullness.

He stilled, cradling my face with shaking hands. “I know.” He pressed soft kisses to my cheeks, my eyes, my lips. “I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart. It won’t hurt like this again, I promise.”

“Have you…” I could barely speak, and tears pricked at my eyes. Christ, Joni had said it hurt the first time, but she didn’t say it was likethis. “Have you done this often?”

Lucas’s eyes clouded with concern as he digested my question. “Have I done this…are you asking me if I make it a habit to deflower beautiful virgins in their sister’s guest room?”

He scanned my face like he was trying to decide whether I was serious. And then he emitted a short huff that turned into full-throated and unguarded laughter.

“I mean…” I bit back a smile. “Maybe not the guest room part.”

“Oh, Christ, Marie,” he wheezed in between beautiful gasps of laughter. “You’re going to kill me, do you know that? No, baby. I can tell you with absolute assurance that I have never done this before in my life.”

Despite the ache between my thighs, the pressure building where he filled me so tightly, I couldn’t help it. I laughed too.

And that, I realized, was the greatest gift Lucas Lyons could give me as he took my virginity. Not passion. Not even love. But humor. The ability to make me relax and be myself in this moment, no matter what that meant.

And it was through that gift that the pain receded enough to consider the fact that Lucas Lyons wasinside me.

Filling me.

And that he felt really good.

“Lucas?” I asked.

His lips twisted into another smile. “Yes?”

“You can move now.”

He chuckled against my mouth, then pulled out an inch or so before pushing back inside me. “Like that?”

A sharp breath hissed through my teeth. The stretch was intense, a deep, aching burn that made my eyes blur with tears. My body tensed instinctively, caught between want and discomfort.

“Y-yes,” I managed. “Keep going.” And I meant it.

Lucas eased in a little farther, and I whimpered, my fingers curling against the thick ridge of his shoulders. It still hurt—God, ithurt—but not in a way that made me want to stop. It was the kind of pain that promised something more.

“That’s it,” he hummed as he rocked into me again, like he himself was held together by just a thread. “That’s it, baby. You’re doing so good.”

My thighs trembled around his hips as he continued pushing, the burn still there but shifting, morphing into something warmer. Fuller. Deeper. The pain was blurring into pleasure, steadier with every slow stroke.