Page 22

His eyes followed my every move, sharp and hooded, full of fire he hadn’t unleashed yet.

Without a word, I reached for the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head in one smooth motion, letting the soft fabric fall to the floor beside him.

I stood there in nothing but my lace and courage, watching the way his jaw flexed as his gaze traveled slowly down, then back up, eyes devouring me.

A slow, dark smile curved at the edge of his mouth, but he didn’t move.

He leaned back, legs parted slightly, waiting and letting me lead.

My knees hit the carpet, soft and sure, as I settled in front of him.

I reached for the waistband of his sweats and released his dick, which was hard and leaking precum.

My mouth watered as I licked my lips, teasing the moment, dragging it out just to feel the tension tighten around us like a vice.

His jaw tightened as my hand began to slide up and down his thick shaft before taking the head of his dick into my mouth.

I moaned, tasting his sticky substance. Craving for more, I jerked his dick, squeezing when I got to the head and sucked hard.

I looked up and caught Bo’s hooded eyes on me as I worked my mouth up and down on him.

His grunts were turning me on and had my pussy dripping.

Pulling him from my mouth, I traced his big mushroom head around my lips, coating them with his precum before deep-throating him with precision.

The satisfying look on his face told me he was enjoying every fucking second of this mouth.

He hissed, gripping the back of my head and guiding my movements. “Fuck, O!”

I gagged and choked on his dick, just like he liked.

Spit leaking down my chin as I bobbed my head up and down on him.

I could feel him throbbing in my mouth, so I knew I was seconds away from my treat.

Just as I thought he was about to come down my mouth, Bo snatched me up, pulled me into his lap, and eased me onto his dick.

He filled me completely, every inch feeling like I was entering the gates of heaven.

To ensure I gained entry so that this moment went on for an eternity, I began to repent for all my sins, including the one we were currently committing.

“Bo! Ohhh—” I shuddered, my voice catching in my throat as he stretched me to my limit. The sensation stole my breath, sharp and perfect all at once, and I loved that for me. The power, the surrender, and the way I owned every part of this moment made me feel invincible.

We stilled, locked together with our eyes meeting in a silence that said more than words ever could. His hands gripped my waist, steady and firm, grounding me even as everything inside me spun.

“I love you, O,” he said as he gazed into my eyes, making my heart skip several beats. “Now ride this dick, and you better not stop until you are coming on this dick.”

“I love you too, baby…” I moaned, capturing his mouth.

Then I moved. Slow at first, then faster, riding him like I was chasing my own release and daring him to keep up. The slapping of skin, the creaking of leather beneath us, and the heat of his gaze locked on me was all-consuming.

Bo reached up, unclasping my bra with a single flick of his fingers, and peeled it away. I watched as he tossed it carelessly to the floor. The sudden kiss of cool air from the AC brushed across my chest making my nipples tighten, goosebumps dancing across my skin. But it only fueled the fire.

His mouth found one of them instantly, warm and hungry, and I moaned loud enough to echo against the office walls. My hips didn’t stop moving. If anything, I moved harder, lost in the rhythm of us and the heated connection that blurred the lines between pain and pleasure—love and need.

“Damn, Cin,” he groaned, voice ragged. “You tryna end me right here?”

I grinned, breathless. “Maybe I am.” I smirked, winding my hips. From the look in Bo’s eyes, he’d let me have my way even if it made his life impossible.

“Then come on this dick.” His country drawl was so sexy; it was enough to have me releasing on him and him returning the favor deep inside my womb.

I collapsed against his chest, our breaths tangled and our skin slick and warm.

Bo wrapped his arms around me like he always did, and I felt the secure, protective feeling of being home.

His lips brushed the top of my shoulder, then my temple, like he couldn’t stop touching me and didn’t want the moment to end.

For a long while, we just sat there, the weight of everything else pressed out by the silence. His fingers moved slowly along my spine, tracing lazy patterns, calming the last of the tremble in my limbs.

“You good?” he murmured against my neck.

“No. I need to sleep.” I groaned, feeling tired.

He chuckled. “Let’s get cleaned up. I want to show you something.”

Doing as he suggested without a fuss, I found myself taking a quick shower. After I was clean, he kissed my forehead and helped me redress. “You good?” he asked again, and I nodded.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing his keys off his desk and heading toward the stairs.

I followed him down the stairs. I knew of his private training bay, quiet and cold, with rows of weapons and targets waiting below.

The moment I stepped onto the range floor, the sound of the door clicking shut behind us felt symbolic, like the outside world was locked out.

The walls were lined with firearms, everything from sleek handguns to heavy-duty rifles. All the weapons meticulously arranged, each one locked and loaded with intention. Fluorescent lights buzzed faintly above us, casting a sharp glow on the concrete floor. It was sterile, focused, and calm here.

Bo moved ahead of me, unlocking one of the lockers and pulling out a matte black Glock. He checked it twice, then passed it to me, handle first. His eyes locked on mine as I took it.

“Bo… I told you I’m afraid of guns. My taser does me just fine.”

“Nah. That shit only good if a mothafucka is up on you. With what happened earlier, I’mma need you to learn how to use one of these. There are times that I won’t be around to protect you. Now, take the gun, O.” He grabbed my hand and placed the heavy metal in my palm.

With shaky hands, I gripped the handle and held it up with my finger on the trigger.

“Whoa! Don’t point that at me. It’s loaded.” Bo chuckled before quickly but coolly easing my hand downward. His palm covered mine, guiding it away from his chest with practiced ease. “Rule number one—never aim at anything you don’t plan on putting in the dirt.”

I giggled, half-embarrassed, half-thrilled. “Wow. Sorry. Holding it does make me feel powerful!”

Bo stepped beside me, arms crossing over his chest, one brow arched. “That’s ’cause it is powerful. But it ain’t just in the gun, O. It’s in you. The weapon’s just a tool. You’re the one in control.”

I stood in front of the target. “Feet shoulder-width. Good. Elbows slightly bent. Now… line up your shot.”

I inhaled, focusing on the silhouette target in front of me.

“Don’t overthink it,” he said softly. “Breathe. Trust yourself.”

My finger squeezed the trigger.

Pop!

The shot rang out, and my eyes widened as the paper flinched with impact—just a little off-center.

My grin spread wide. “Did I hit it?”

Bo leaned in, peering at the hole. “You damn sure did.”

“Yess. Blocka! Blocka!” I was hyped.

He chuckled.“Chill, killa. You're still a virgin.”

We ran a few more drills until my body ached in a good way. The controlled shots, smooth reloads, and precision strikes reminded me that I was alive, capable, and no longer frozen by fear.