Page 8 of Coming for Her Grumpy Boss (Coming For Christmas #3)

chapter

eight

Mia

I meet his gaze, his eyes look nearly black, his pupils have swallowed up so much of the blue.

“I’m a little relieved you don’t have a Jacob’s ladder. Those look painful,” I admit.

He gives me a wicked grin. “No, just the frenum.”

His forehead presses to mine. “Goddamn it, Mia,” he whispers. “I’m so hard for you. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to feel you touch me. To feel your body beneath my hands and mouth.”

“We have time to explore. Before the rest of your family gets here,” I say.

I fall to my knees and pull his boxers down his hips.

His jeans fall to his feet. I wrap my hand around his shaft, but my fingers don’t encompass his girth.

The shimmer of the silver barbell pierced through the underside of his cockhead is so sexy.

I’ve never given much thought to men with piercings before I met Ford.

They fit him, though, and now that I’ve seen them, I can see how they just add to his sexiness.

“So if I had hidden myself under your desk. I would have grabbed you like this.” I lock my eyes on his, then lean forward and lick him straight up his shaft.

“Christ, Mia.” One of his hands threads into my hair, his fingertips massage the base of my skull. “You’re so beautiful like that. Fuck.”

I smile and then suck the head into my mouth, my tongue playing with the metal bar, tugging lightly. I suck him deeper, hollowing my cheeks and relaxing my throat.

“You keep sucking me that good and I’m going to come down your throat. But I don’t go first. That’s my rule.”

I suck hard just to see him react. He pumps against me twice before he regains control.

“Mia,” he says, his tone full of warning. “Strip out of your clothes. It’s my turn to put my mouth on you.” While he’s saying all of this, he’s removing the rest of his clothes.

His entire chest and most of his arms are covered in ink. But only parts of his legs have tattoos.

He wraps his fingers around his dick and tugs. His hand with the ink crawling up his fingers just adds to the intensity of the moment.

“It’s nice to know that all that Big D energy isn’t unwarranted,” I say.

He laughs, and I swear I’m getting addicted to that sound.

I go about the business of stripping off my clothes. I do my best to ignore all the annoying and persistent thoughts peppering my brain. Ford says he wants me. He can’t fake an erection.

“I knew your tits would be amazing,” he says. He’s still standing there, gripping his cock, but his eyes are locked on my boobs. “I want you to get on the bed. Up on all fours. Make sure you spread your legs. I want to see your pussy. See how wet you are for me.”

“Embarrassingly wet,” I say as I assume the position. There’s nowhere for me to hide like this. He can literally see all of me.

“Mia, Mia,” he says my name like a reprimand. “I don’t know where to put my mouth first. Those tits are fucking perfect. But this pussy.” He gives it a slap. “This pussy is just begging for attention. Isn’t it?” His thumb swipes through my soaked folds.

“Ford,” I breathe his name. “I need?—”

“I know exactly what you need.”

He runs a palm up my back, then applies pressure. “Put your head on your hands. That’s it, ass up.” He cups my pussy, then gives it another swat. Then he bends forward and licks me from behind.

“Oh damn,” I say.

He toys with me, licking everywhere but where I need him most.

“Quit teasing me, Ford. You said you knew what I needed.”

“I do know. But I find I like it when you’re impatient and bossy.”

“Sadist,” I say.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe you’re all talk,” I quip.

“Oh, I see how it’s going to be. Alright then. Have it your way.” He crawls onto the bed. “Lean back up.”

Once he’s prone on the mattress, he pats his chest. “Bring that needy, dripping pussy back over here and let me take care of it.”

“You want me to sit on your face?” I ask.

“Do you need me to draw you a diagram?”

“I sure hope not,” I say.

“Then yes, get over here and smother my face with that juicy cunt of yours.”

Once I’ve straddled his chest, he does the rest of the work. He grabs my thighs and pulls me down to his mouth. “Ride my face, Mia. Let your pussy boss me around.”

“I had no idea you talked like this,” I muse. Then his tongue slides inside me, and my eyes cross. “Of course, if you spoke like this at the office, there would be lawsuits. So many lawsuits.”

I rock against him, and it only seems to turn him on more. He tightens his grip on my thighs as he fucks me harder with his tongue, then licks up through my folds, circling my clit.

“Lawsuits would give Thorne something to do, though.”

“Baby, you can talk all you want through sex, but if you bring up my best friend’s name again, I’m going to have to spank you.”

“Gingerbread!” I shriek.

He chuckles. “That’s what I thought. Now, would you like me to continue?”

“Yes, please, you’re totally going to make me come like this.”

“That was my plan.”

He goes back to my pussy and now he’s even more focused. He squeezes my ass while he circles my clit with his tongue. When he sucks that little bundle of nerves into his mouth, I come so hard I think I lose my vision for a minute.

“Oh my God,” I wheeze. Then I fall onto the mattress next to him. “Have your way with me. I have no feeling left in my legs, and I might be able to smell toast.”

“Are you having a stroke?” he asks.

“Unclear. But I have decided that out of the two of us, you are the one who needs a sticker chart with all the gold stars.”

He laughs. “We can make that happen.”

“I want you,” I whisper, opening to him again. My whole body aches for it, for him. “Now.”

Ford presses his forehead to mine like he needs the contact to stay upright. His chest heaves against mine. “Condom,” he rasps. “I didn’t plan… this. I’ll find one. Or I’ll go to the store. Tell me what you want, Mia, and that’s what we do.”

God. He’d stop for me. He’d run into the night just because I asked. Heat pools low in my belly because the power of that—of him putting me first—is almost as heady as his weight against me. I loop my legs around his waist, dragging him closer. “I’m on the pill. I’m clean.”

“I’m clean too,” he promises, eyes searching mine like he’ll only move if I give him permission. “Are you sure? I’ll stop. Just say it.”

I’ve never been more certain of anything. “I’m sure.” I let him see it, steady and unflinching. “Nothing between us.”

The words detonate inside him—I feel it in the way his body tightens, in the reverent sound that escapes him. “Okay.” He kisses me like he’s swearing an oath. “Okay.”

He pushes into me slowly, carefully, like he’s protecting me even from pleasure. The stretch steals my breath; my nails bite into his shoulders. He stops immediately, grounding himself, eyes locked on mine.

“Christ, Mia.” His voice is torn, reverent. “You feel… created just for me. Made specifically to ruin me.”

My laugh is shaky, giddy, reckless. “Then stop talking and ruin me.”

We find a rhythm, and it feels like nothing I’ve ever known—like freedom, like being worshipped with every thrust. He watches me as if I’m the only thing that exists, adjusting, changing angles, hunting for the spot that makes me break apart.

When he finds it, I cry out, raw and unguarded.

He does it again, greedy for my reaction, until I’m unraveling under him.

He’s all iron control, but I can feel it fraying, and the knowledge that I am the one shaking him loose is intoxicating.

“Ford—” I pant, my body arching into his. “I… I think?—”

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, one hand cupping the back of my neck, thumb brushing along my jaw like I’m a fragile treasure. “Look at me.”

I do, and the connection slams through me like lightning. My body tightens, trembling under the weight of his focus, his possession. “I’m?—”

“Come for me,” he orders, low and certain, and I do. The world detonates, pleasure ripping me apart, his name torn from my throat in a broken sound that feels holy.

He follows, helpless, burying his face in my neck, his voice wrecked as he pours into me. My name leaves him like a prayer he didn’t know he carried.

After, he doesn’t leave my body, doesn’t even shift far away. He braces over me, trembling, kisses the tip of my nose like he can’t not, and tries to breathe like a man who hasn’t just been undone.

I’m smiling up at him, wild hair, flushed skin, utterly claimed. “You’re… kind of good at that, Bossman. Definitely going to need to buy a lot of gold stars.”

“Wait? Kind of?” His voice is shredded, disbelief in his eyes. “Be careful. HR has forms for libel.”

I laugh, dizzy with delight, smoothing my palm over his chest, memorizing the breadth of him, the heat. “We’re going to be insufferable this weekend.”

“Exactly how I want it.”