Page 87 of The Boss

Instead, I beam like a fucking flashlight because I madehimdothat.

“Go ahead,” he says, barely grinning as he bends to pull up his pants.

“I didn’t say anything,” I say.

He chuckles, “You didn’t have to. Your smile is fucking blinding.”

“Sorry,” I shrug.

“No you’re not. You’re proud. What you shouldn’t be is surprised. Look at you. I’m already ready to blow again. Stay put.” He says before walking to a closet where I hope he’ll find some towels. He does. I expect him to hand them to me but instead he grips my hips and puts me up on the rail.

“What are—” I’m stopped mid-thought because he…

His finger is on me, dragging through the mess he made. My mouth must fall open because he easily slips his fingers inside.

“Suck.”

I do.

I almost come from the taste of him and the sight of his eyes watching my mouth. He huffs a groan before grabbing the towel to clean me up.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says as his eyes study the cloth and my skin. I don’t reply. “It won’t work.”

I shrug, “Can’t blame a girl for trying. Plus, we’ll have a little fun along the way, even if you never show me all your secrets and I never give up trying to find them.” I widen my legs and arch my back. The rail is the perfect height so his bulge isright there.Exactly where I want it.

He pushes into me, a delicious friction where his cargo pants meet my joggers.

“Tell me you give up,” he says. I whimper as he moves, rubbing my clit with his shaft through our clothes. “Just say it, Luna. Tell me I can trust you.”

“Quinn,” I beg.

He pulls away. I’m about to beg for more but in one quick move he’s shifted me forward and put his hand down into my pants. He studies my face as his fingers thrust into me, hard. He’s never gentle with me, even the night after I was shot. It’s like he can’t be. There’s no containing this…or containing him. I love it.

I moan and his mouth parts and I want it. I want his mouth on mine. I want his lips.

And he knows it.

So he moves out of reach.

He kisses my neck instead and I want to protest but it’s all just so good. I look up at the ceiling, watching the lights blur. Watching everything blur. It doesn’t take long before I scream his name.

When I finally settle, he withdraws his hand and makes a show of putting his glistening fingers in his mouth.

I shouldn’t have teased him earlier.

He lasted longer than I did.

He’s stronger than me. Or more stubborn. Or less…something.

I know we’re both playing our own game here, but I’m not sure if either of us are winning. As each day goes on it gets harder. We train, we laugh, we cuddle and sleep and still it’s not enough. I want more.

Not more power or secrets or leverage.

I want more Quinn.

Which makes me the real loser here.

Even if I give in, even if I give up, I don’t think he’ll ever give me all of him.