It's a simple question with a complicated answer. Because you work for me. Because there are power dynamics at play. Because I don't want to take advantage. Because I'm afraid of what might happen if I start and can't stop.
But the truth that emerges is simpler: "Because I don't want to do anything you might regret."
"What if," she says softly, turning to face me, "I'd regret not doing anything more?"
We stare at each other. The decision point. Cross this line, and there's no going back to what we were before.
"Are you sure?" I ask, giving her one last chance to retreat to safer ground.
In answer, she reaches up and places her palm against my cheek. "I've never been surer of anything."
That touch breaks the last of my restraint. I pull her toward me, one hand at her waist, the other tangling in her hair as our lips finally, finally meet.
The kiss is everything I've imagined in my most private thoughts and nothing like I expected. Elena's arms wind around my neck, her squishy breasts pressed against my chest as the kiss deepens.
I've kissed many women in my thirty-eight years, but none have made me feel like this, like I'm simultaneously losing control and finding something essential I didn't know was missing. Elena moans against my mouth, and the sound has my cock pleading for freedom.
When we break apart, breathless, her eyes search mine. "That was..."
"Long overdue," I finish for her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
She laughs softly. "I was going to say 'incredible,' but yes, that too."
I lean my forehead against hers, still processing what just happened. "We should talk about this."
"We should," she agrees, then kisses me again, more boldly this time.
Rational thought becomes increasingly difficult as her hands explore my chest, my shoulders, the nape of my neck. My own hands wander down her sides to her hips, pulling her closer until she's practically in my lap.
"Elena," I murmur against her lips. "If we don't stop now—"
"Then don't stop," she whispers back, shifting to straddle me properly, her thighs on either side of mine.
The movement brings her center directly against my obvious throbbing cock, and we both gasp at the contact. Even through our swimwear, the sensation is electric and undeniable. I can feel her heat against me, can see the desire darkening her eyes to the color of the deep ocean.
"Here?" I ask, glancing around our deserted beach. "Are you sure?"
A blush spreads across her already pink cheeks. "Maybe not everything," she concedes. "But I don't want to stop completely."
I smile, relieved she's maintaining some rationality even as mine deserts me. "We have hours before the boat returns," I remind her. "We can take our time."
She settles more comfortably in my lap, her arms looped around my neck. "I like the sound of that."
I trace the curve of her jaw with my fingertips, still somewhat disbelieving that this is happening.
"You're so beautiful," I tell her. "I've thought so from the first day you walked into my office."
"Really?" She looks surprised. "Even when I spilled coffee on your quarterly report?"
I laugh at the memory. "Even then. Especially when you didn't apologize but immediately started listing all the ways digital copies are superior to paper ones."
"I was terrified you were going to fire me on the spot," she admits.
"I nearly offered you a promotion instead," I counter. "Not many people stand their ground with me like that."
"I've always been stubborn," she says with a smile.
"It's one of the things I admire about you." I brush my lips against hers again, marveling at how natural it feels. "Along with your intelligence, your efficiency, your compassion..."
