Page 44 of My Favorite Boss

I held him tighter, and he melted into me, his heat surrounding us. His kisses became deeper, slower, intense. I tugged on his shirt hem, and he eased back, his chest pumping rapidly.

“You want it off, Magnolia?”

Hearing him say my name in that low, raspy tone made me brave. “Yes.”

He grasped the back of it, pulling it over his head and dropping it to the floor. I let myself stare at him. The muscles, the power. His pecs and toned arms. The veins running down his forearms. The light dusting of golden hair on his chest. He was a beautiful specimen of a man.

He fingered my tank. “Do I get the same?” he asked.

I felt the flutter of nerves, and he frowned, stroking my cheek. He leaned down, bracing his arms on the sofa, once again caging me in. “Would it help get rid of those voices in your head if I told you I think you’re the sexiest woman I have ever seen? That the mere thought of you makes me hard? Do you want to know I wake up with my hand wrapped around my cock and your name on my lips?” He pressed his mouth to my ear, tracing the shell lightly. “That I shout your name as I come, wishing I were buried inside your tight, sexy little body?”

I whimpered.

“I love how you look.”

“I’m not skinny.”

He smoothed his thumb up my inner thigh. “Nope.”

“I’m short and, ah, curvy.”

His thumb went higher, making my breath catch. “Yep.”

“I’m not really pinup material.”

“I don’t want to pin you. I want to fuck you. Taste you. Hear you cry out my name. Then I want to watch you come.” He pressed against my center, making me moan. “And then we’ll start again.”

“Oh God.”

“No,” he growled, grabbing the bottom of my tank. “Alex. God has nothing to do with what I’m about to do to you.”

And he yanked my top over my head.

I waited for his reaction. The cooling of his ardor. It didn’t happen. The blue of his eyes was fire. Bright, burning, alive. He took my hand, placing it over the bulge in his pants. “Does this feel like anything but desire?”

I shook my head, unable to speak. He was hard as granite. I stroked him, wanting to see him. Really feel him. Our eyes locked as I pulled down his zipper, the sound of the metal teeth coming apart loud in the room. I slipped my hand in, my eyes widening.

“Commando?”

“It’s the weekend, Myers. I wear what I want,” he said with a wink, throwing my own words back at me.

He undid the button, pushing at the waistband, and his pants fell to the floor. He was thick, hard, and swollen. The tip glistened. A long vein wound around his cock, and I wrapped my hand around him, my fingers not meeting. He made a low, guttural sound as I explored, letting his head fall back and his eyes shut as I dropped to my knees and took him in my mouth.

His hand flew to the back of my head. “Magnolia,” he groaned. “Oh fuck, Maggie.”

I worked him, using my tongue, lips, and fingers. Stroked him. Sucked and licked. Teased the engorged head, flicking my tongue over the slit and making him groan. I gripped his tight ass, running my hands over the taut swells, sliding my nails over the skin. He grunted in pleasure.

I played with his balls, cupping them, taking one side into my mouth, then the other, driving him crazy. He cursed and moaned. Praised and begged. He gripped my hair, lifting my head. His eyes were wild, burning and intense. “You have to stop.”

I sucked harder, and he came, our gazes never faltering. His body was rigid, his breath coming out in short bursts, and he whispered my name as I swallowed around him.

Then his head dropped, and he was silent.

I let him slide from my lips, running my hand up and down his thighs.

He opened his eyes, narrowing his gaze as he stared down at me. The intensity was still there, the fire stoked lower but ready to explode any second.

“Took the edge off?” I asked innocently.