Page 67 of Never Bargain with the Boss

When she does, I reward us both by pressing a kiss high on her mound. Another shudder works through her, and she grips my shoulders for support to stay standing. There’s so much that Riley doesn’t think she deserves—kind words, pleasure, a future—and I want to show her that she can have them all. I’ll give them to her.

Looking up her body to meet her eyes, I flatten my tongue and give her a long lick, right through the middle of her lips and over her clit. “Yes,” she hisses, the word turning to a nonsense sound as her eyes roll and her head falls back.

I do it again, savoring her taste on my tongue, and give myself over to my hunger, devouring her sweetness. I suck her clit into my mouth, flicking my tongue slowly over the nub as I test to see what she likes. I want to learn it all, with her soft moans and movements as my guide.

I lick and suck and eventually use the gentlest edge of my teeth to hold her clit at my mercy while I batter my tongue over it, drawing a sharp gasp of pleasure as her fingers tighten in my hair. Gripping and releasing her thighs, I roughly massage my way up until I’m spreading her wide open so I can have fuller access to feast on her. Dipping my tongue into her, I lap at her juices, drinking her down before fucking her with my stiff tongue as my cock begs to replace it, straining and leaking in my slacks.

Riley first, I remind myself. And maybe second, if I can hold back long enough.

But given how on-edge I am, that’s a big demand. The devil on my shoulder suggests getting her off quickly, but no, I want to torture her the way I’ve tortured myself, not as punishment, but to make the reward all the sweeter.

You'd think I’d have learned by now that planning doesn’t matter. Life happens, regardless of whatever you plan, and when I move back toward her clit and slide the barest inch of my finger between her lips, she shatters instantly. Spasms rack through her, and I have to fight to keep my tongue on her as she desperately cries out for more.

I give her what she demands, fingering her deeper and faster. The sound of her slickness fills the room, her taste covers mytongue, and still she gives me more. I don’t know if she’s coming again or still coming, but I curl my finger forward, petting the spot on her front wall, and she jerks wildly. I push her back against the counter, one hand planted on her lower stomach to hold her in place, and flutter my tongue over her clit. The onslaught to her body sends a rush of fluid gushing over my hand and dripping to the floor beneath us.

“What…” she gasps, but I don’t stop. I might never stop.

“More.” This time, it’s my demand. My pleasure can wait, because I’ve become an instant addict to Riley’s.

Her legs are quivering, her feet shuffling, and she’s tapping my shoulder like she’s surrendering in the ring. I hold her securely, keeping her upright and keeping her lips spread open for me. Fuck, they’re gonna look so good wrapped around my cock. I press a soft kiss to the right and then the left, silently promising to take care of them after I fuck Riley roughly, because that’s all I’m going to be capable of. She’s driven me to utter madness and I want to rut at her like an animal.

I’ve never felt this way. With anyone. Ever.

Sex is great. It always has been. But this all-encompassing need to give Riley pleasure, to make her explode over and over before savagely filling her with my cock until the creaminess of my cum is leaking from her tight pussy is new.

No, it’s not.

The whisper in my mind makes me lose my rhythm as I lick her battered clit. The truth is, Riley has brought forth this primal side of me before—when I chased her in the back yard. It’s been building since then. Hell, maybe before then. Every fantasy I’ve had of fucking her in this kitchen, of smacking her ass and leaving my handprint on her skin, of claiming her mouth with my cum… it’s all images I’ve only ever pictured with Riley.

Gritting my teeth, I grunt. “Fuck, I need?—”

“You,” Riley breathes, finishing my sentence as she pushes me away and urges me to stand.

She’s nude and annoyingly, I’m still completely dressed. I rip at my shirt, trying to get it off instantly, and resort to slipping the button-up shirt over my head before throwing it God only knows where. While I’m jerking my belt undone, Riley’s hands explore my chest.

“I’ve wanted to touch you so many times,” she whispers. Her nails score over my nipples, bringing them to hard points, and she licks a circle around one, then the other. All the while, I’m struggling with both my shoes and my zipper. I slide my underwear down with my slacks, and as I step out of both, I rip my socks off too. When I stand up, Riley’s eyes are locked onto my cock, which is leaking pre-cum and purple-red with need. “I’ve wanted this.”

She wraps her hand around my length, and a groan rumbles deep in my chest at how good it feels. My eyes try to close, but I force them to stay open, wanting to see the reality of her hand on me as much as I’ve seen it in my mind. She gives me a slow stroke, tip to base and back again, and her bracelets make a musical sound that makes me smile. “Fuck, Riley. I can’t wait much longer,” I confess, feeling like it’s a shameful admission.

“Then don’t,” she purrs, hunger of her own in her eyes. “I’m protected.”

Honestly, I hadn’t thought of that. I’m not the type who keeps condoms in his wallet, but I think there’s a box of them in a bathroom drawer. They’re probably expired and I hadn’t even considered going for one. I want Riley bare, want to feel her walls wrapped around me, and want to fill her with my cum.

But I don’t want another child. Not tonight. Maybe never. I’ve never considered it. Because I never dreamed I’d meet someone like Riley. She breaks down all my defensive walls, lets me see her trauma too, but makes the painfulness of the pastseem like something we can let go of without succumbing to survivor’s guilt. She makes it not only acceptable, but expected, to smile again and welcome happiness.

For now, I’m glad that she’s thinking logically, because despite my usual proclivity for planning, I don’t have one at all beyond getting inside her before I come, which will be dangerously soon if she keeps stroking me with her soft hand and those bracelets keep clinking against each other. God, what has she done to me? I’m like one of Pavlov’s dogs… one little jingle-jangle and I’m on the edge.

“Turn around,” I tell her again.

Reluctantly, she releases me and faces the counter, rising to her tiptoes as she folds forward over it. I run my hands down her back again, gripping her hips to lift her ass and bring her right where I need her. “I feel like I’m dreaming again, but I’m wide awake this time, aren’t I?” I murmur.

“Find out,” she answers, wiggling against my strong grasp.

I press my cock between her thighs, letting her juices coat me before I notch at her entrance. I pause for the barest second, enjoying the first moment that I admit she’s mine. Even if it’s only to myself. That’s probably the biggest admission. I think Riley already knows, has known for weeks, and was waiting patiently to see if I’d figure it out.

Sliding into her inch by inch, I relish the feel of her lips opening for me, her pussy taking me, her walls gripping me tightly.

How could I have ever doubted this? Doubted her?