Boss Hottie Page 4

  “Do you need my address?” I ask, trying desperately to ease the palpable tension in the car.

  “No.” He answers. My brow furrows in curiosity – does he already know where I live? I avoid his eyes, crossing my arms across my chest with a shiver as the buildings fly by us outside. After the ten longest minutes of my life, we finally pull into a private garage, circling around to the top-most floor. As we cross the threshold, I see a secondary garage door close behind us. We must be in his building.

  “Thank you,” Michael nods to a stocky brown-haired driver as he exits the car. He holds his hand out to me, and I graciously take it thankful for the support with my three-inch heels and heavy buzz. Releasing its grip, his large hand shifts to ghost my lower back as we enter a private elevator to the penthouse apartment. My heart beats so hard in my chest I worry he can hear it, but if he can he doesn’t let on. When the ornate silver doors finally slide open he releases his hold on me, brushing past where I stand towards the bar on the far side of the room. I wait in the marble-floored foyer, unsure of what to do. Downing the freshly poured amber liquid, Michael makes himself another glass, finally turning towards me.

  “May I have one?” I ask, motioning towards his glass.

  “No.” I quirk my head at him, questioning, “you’ve had enough to drink for the night.”

  His voice is teeming with rage. His gaze is inescapable; penetrating me to my very core. I shift back and forth on my heels, grateful for the scraps of coverage his jacket lends. Flexing his jaw, he pushes off the bar, stalking towards me like predator to its prey. Halting about five feet in front of me he speaks again, this time louder.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” I am taken slightly aback by the sheer anger in his voice, unsure of its basis.

  “Excuse me?” I ask.

  “Drinking that much? In that outfit?” He gestures up and down at me. “What were you trying to do?”

  Michael’s voice raises another decibel with each word, boiling a reciprocating anger in my chest.

  “Why is it any of your damn business what I do?” I return the volume of his voice, prompting him to step forward just a bit. I stand my ground, our eyes crashing into each other in waves of brown and blue. I can see his chest heaving in frustration beneath his deep black dress shirt, but his face softens a bit with his next words.

  “I don’t want other men seeing you like that. Ever.” I am taken aback by the admission he bites out, nevertheless my temper refuses to allow my demeanor to soften. That wasn’t an apology.

  “I don’t belong to you,” I bite back, unsure of the conviction of my words. His eyes flash with some emotion I don’t recognize as an almost-evil smirk graces his lips. Downing his drink, he sets the crystal glass on the floor, straightening in one swift movement. His long legs making their way to me in two strides, hands gripping my face as he pulls me in a bruising kiss.

  The shock paralyzes me for a split second before I respond, returning the pressure, my hands raising to his sides. He takes the small submission as an invitation, tangling one hand in my hair as he deepens the kiss, swiping his talented tongue lightly across my bottom lip. He tastes of scotch and sin, and I swear I could drown in the intoxicating flavor. I return the move with a small nip at his full lower lip, prompting him to pull away just an inch, leaving me gasping for air. He is still close enough that our lips brush as he whispers his words.

  “If you want that to be true, you need to leave. Now. Otherwise, you’re mine.” His flat-muscled chest brushes mine with each deep, pained breath he takes. I can almost feel his restraint waning. I consider for a moment before, all consequences be damned, I tilt my face upwards, capturing his soft lips. He growls against the kiss, abruptly gripping my torso, raising me into his arms. I wrap my legs around him as he walks us backwards, down a dimly lit hallway.

  Never loosening his grip on me, never letting the ferocity of the slow, deep kiss falter, he opens the door to what I assume to be his bedroom, setting me gently on the plush bed. I take the opportunity to observe my surroundings. The plush comforter adorns a set of soft white sheets, and more pillows than one person could possibly need. The room is rather empty, with one windowed wall with floor-to-ceiling curtains, and a door to a balcony that spans the stretch of the room. There is no TV. Only a few ornate pieces of art, and a dresser on the far end of the bed. There are two doors on the other wall. When I finally glance up, Michael is looking at me, head tilted with curiosity.

  “It’s very you.” I comment, prompting a smile to grace his lips.

  “Stand up.” He takes a small step back, granting me room to comply with his order. I blink at the sudden change in his demeanor, but comply. He smirks in satisfaction, gently placing his hands on my hips, turning me away from him. He pulls the suit jacket from my shoulders, dropping it unceremoniously to the floor. Understanding his intent, I brush my hair from my back, twirling it in my hands. I feel a chill run down my spine in anticipation of his touch, and when it finally comes, it’s a million times more intense that I imagined. The softness of his fingers between my shoulder blades tickles me just slightly. Slowly, deliberately, he undoes the ties of my corset. When it is finally loose enough to unhook, he spins me back to face him, gripping the top of the pink silky material and firmly releasing the hooks. The lingerie drops, joining his jacket on the floor.

  I swallow hard, standing before him in only pink silk panties, matching tights, and heels. The left corner of his lips quirk in amusement as I squirm under his gaze.

  “You’re exquisite.” His words come out barely above a whisper, and I believe them. He traces on long finger across my collar bone, pressing firmly down my sternum and over the swell of my right breast, slowing as he reaches my nipple, circling it loosely before flattening his palm to gently lift my breast in his hand, brushing his soft thumb over the firm peak, mirroring the gesture with his other hand. I feel each soft movement deep in my stomach, perplexed in my first glimpse of the softer side of him. Lightly trailing his finger tips down the sides of my torso, Michael drops to one knee in front of me, his grip tightening over my hips.

  I cast my gaze downward, meeting his.

  He is still wearing the deep black devil horns from his costume, and somehow the look only serves to entice me more. There’s something intoxicating about a devil who’s willing to kneel at your feet.

  “This is your last chance, Sophia.” His voice is dark and full of promise, setting a blaze in my core, in anticipation of his devious plans.

  “Keep going,” I prompt, tangling my fingers in his soft hair, releasing the plastic horns, which fall to the ground each with a respective thud. I allow my eyes to drift shut as he leans forward, gently sucking at my clit to tease me through the thin fabric of my underwear, eliciting a gasp to escape from my lips. I feel him smirk against me as he continues his attentions, reaching a single finger up to brush against my slit through the fabric.

  “You’re so wet,” he mumbles against the skin of my upper thigh, lust evident in his voice. I glance down at his words. He catches my gaze, leaning back just an inch.

  “Tell me what you want, beautiful.” Michael orders.

  I struggle with this for a moment. I’ve never been ordered around in general, much less in bed. I struggle to let the words cross my lips. I can see comprehension flash in Michael’s eyes as his fingers pause, and he stands. Towering over me, his domineering nature is hard to ignore. He gently grips my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

  “You don’t like being told what to do, do you?”

  “Not usually,” I answer his question sheepishly, not sure how I feel at the moment. He raises a single eyebrow, silently ordering me to explain.

  “I think I might like it when you do it.” I admit, a blush adorning my cheeks as I struggle not to meet his gaze. Michael tightens his grip on my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

  “Climb on the bed. Lay back on the pillows, and spread your legs for me sweetheart.” His command causes my eyes to
widen a bit, but I will my body to move before my brain has a chance to overthink it. When I am perfectly in position, my heels dig into the fabric of his comforter and my shoulders are raised a bit by his thick pillows. I still, waiting for his next instruction.

  Michael circles to the end of the bed, devouring me with his eyes. His assertive gaze is enough to leave me soaked, and I am sure he can see how wet I am through the fabric of my underwear.

  “Rub yourself through your panties.” His command is thick with lust, but clear with authority all the same. I clench my jaw, faltering in the new territory, but he doesn’t let up.

  “Sophia.” The sound of my name as a reprimand on his lips is enough alone to make me relent. Trailing my slender fingers lightly down my torso, I pause for a split second when I reach the hem of my underwear. A ghost of a smirk graces his full lips, prompting me to continue. I comply.

  Traveling downward, my fingers confirm my own suspicions. The soft fabric is slick with my arousal, despite the second layer of tights beneath it. I press in further with the slightest pressure, teasing myself. Up and down, I run my pointer finger against my welcoming slit through the barrier, my eyes never leaving Michael’s.

  “Pull your panties to the side, beautiful. But don’t finger yourself, not yet.” I quickly grant Michael’s orders, thankful for the easier access. Using two fingers I flick at my nub, trying desperately to hold onto each fleeting wave of pleasure the contact gives me. I am dripping now. Drifting my eyes shut, I focus on my hands. I’ve never done anything like this before. My sex life has always taken a relatively far back seat to my professional aspirations. Michael is both.

  The bed shifts under Michael’s weight as he climbs on just enough to reach my hips, hooking his fingers around the elastic of my underwear and tights.

  “Lift.” He orders, deftly removing what is left of my clothing, discarding it, and my shoes, on the floor.

  I am now completely naked before him. He props himself up on one elbow, climbing to lay beside me. I halt my fingers, allowing my hand to drift to my stomach, resting there, waiting for him.

  Tracing a skilled finger along the juncture between my rib cage, and across my hips, Michael teases me as he speaks.

  “I’m going to ask you some questions. Answer them honestly and without hesitation. If you do, you’ll be rewarded,” Michael punctuates his words with a quick brush of his fingers just above my clit, “but if you don’t,” he leans down to whisper the threat to me, so close I can feel his hot breath on the sensitive skin just below my ear, “I’m going to punish you. Do you understand?”

  My chest heaves with a mixture of excitement and nerves, what does he mean by punish? His deep blue eyes penetrate mine, imploring me to submit to him. I nod.

  “No, Sophia, I want to hear you. Say, ‘yes, Mr. Carter.”

  I do as he says, my voice sultry and pleasing, and I feel his cock twitch against my hip with the small yield. Michael runs his fingers along the edge of my core, blurring my focus as he begins his interrogation.

  “How many men have you been with?”

  “Two.” My voice is calm and even, all things considered. A twinge of jealousy passes through his blue orbs.

  “When was the last time?”

  I purse my lips, trying to remember. “Six, seven months ago? I’m not sure. Before I graduated Columbia.” He nods, satisfied with the jumbled answer, dipping his finger inside me up to his first knuckle, forcing a frustrated gasp from my lips.

  “What about here?” Michael trails his finger downward, just a couple inches, causing me to jump and squirm beneath him, “has anyone ever had you here?”

  My chest heaves with the intimacy of the action as he applies the smallest bit of pressure.

  “No,” I gasp out, “I’ve never… No one’s ever...” I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence, and Michael doesn’t force it. Instead, he chuckles darkly, a deep satisfied sound that fills me with sweet anticipation of the dirty things that must be flashing across his mind. Moving back to his original ministrations, he plunges a finger inside me without warning. I arch off the bed, crying out with the sudden intrusion.

  “Do you have any hard limits that I should know about?”

  “Hm?” I question, unsure of his meaning.

  “Limits, Sophia. Things you would never be willing to try, things that make you uncomfortable.” I open and close my lips in understanding of his meaning, but unsure of the answer.

  “I don’t think I’ve tried enough things to know.” My voice is small, a blush of embarrassment flashing across my cheeks. Michael notices.

  “Don't blush, beautiful. You have no idea how much it pleases me to hear that.” Adding a second finger, Michael leans in to kiss me, deep and hard. His tongue brushes across my lower lip, demanding entry. I grant it to him. I think, in this moment, I’d grant him anything. Pulling away, he leaves me panting and craving more, his fingers still grinding deep inside me.

  “Last night, in my office, you wanted me to kiss you, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” I admit. He pushes further.

  “And before, during the meeting. I watched you jump every time I spoke. Your cool skin flushing with embarrassment. Tell me what you were thinking.”

  I shudder, remembering my reaction to his strong voice. “I was thinking that you were an ass,” my answer is half true. A sharp sting reverberates up my body as he withdrawals his fingers, harshly slapping my sensitive clit. I cry out, desperately trying to close my legs as his punishment continues, but he pins one with his own, granting himself unhindered access. After a few harsh slaps, he stops, resting his palm on my now-red mound. I am trembling beneath him now. No one’s ever spanked me before, let alone there. Heaving, I meet his eyes in a silent plead.

  “Why did I punish you Sophia?” His eyes burn into me like he can read my thoughts. I relent.

  “Because I wasn’t fully honest with you.”

  “And what did you leave out?” I’m starting to form a love-hate relationship with the condescending tone of his voice.

  “I was thinking that you were intimidating, and beautiful. And I wanted to impress you.”

  Chuckling at my evident discomfort, Michael grips my chin once again, so firm I swear there’ll be bruises in the morning.

  “You most definitely have impressed me, kitten.” I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, eyes wide in anticipation.

  Michael leans down to brush his lips against mine, a soft gesture in contrast with everything else. The kiss is slow and hard, dominating in the truest sense of the word, and I allow it. When he finally pulls away I am left aching, burning for more.

  “Beautiful,” his voice is strained, like a rubber band that’s been stretched to its absolute limit, “this won’t be gentle.”

  My lips quiver in fear and anticipation of his promise as he pulls his fingers from me, reaching down to undo his belt. I move my hands to help him, but he catches my wrist mid-air.

  “No, Sophia. I didn’t say you could move.” His voice is gentle with the reprimand, and I understand. He is training me, making me aware of his expectations. I clench my jaw, considering the new excited feeling in my chest, and the waves of burning heat straight through my core with each new order he spouts.

  He pulls his erection free from his pants, not bothering to take them off, and I stifle a gasp, drifting my legs closed instinctively. He is iron-hard, and massive, dripping pre-cum.

  “Michael –” I stutter. “I don’t think—I mean how is that going to…”

  He silences me with a finger on my lips, his face softening, “are you sure you want this?”

  I nod, before remembering his predilection towards verbal responses, “Yes, I’m sure.” Retrieving a foil packet to make sure we’re protected, Michael positions himself between my legs, running the thick soft head of his cock up and down my opening, deeper and deeper with each swipe, driving me crazy.

  “Next time, kitten, I’ll give you all the flowers and candles and
butterfly kisses you deserve.” Michael pushes in just an inch, causing me to arch, and moan. I barely register his continued words, “this time, I’m going to fuck you the way I’ve wanted to since you first walked into my conference room. Fast, and hard. Okay?” He pulls out again, flicking his hard tip against my clit, waiting for my verbal response.

  “Yes, Michael. Okay, please.” The words fly from my mouth, desperate and breathy, and I am too far gone to even bother to be embarrassed by them. He chuckles darkly, reveling in my neediness.

  “Please what, Sophia?”

  “Please fuck me. I want to feel you inside me, please.” My voice is small and trembling, but it’s enough for him.

  Without any further teasing, Michael plunges inside me so deep I scream out, feeling his balls brush against the curve of my ass, and his cock reaching deep into my stomach, stretching me further than I thought possible. He groans into the nape of my neck, stilling himself for a moment to allow me to adjust to him. Picking his head up, he meets my eyes.

  “Don't come until I tell you to.” The order was resolute, and despite my body I knew I couldn’t dare disobey. I nod, biting my lip in my best effort not to moan, and he takes this as enough of a response. Pining my wrist down with one hand, he finally moves inside me, setting a hard, fast rhythm. His free hand snakes down to rub against my clit, firm and slow movements, building the pressure deep in my core.

  I bite down harder on my lip, I’m so close to spilling over the edge and coming all over his cock.

  “Michael,” it was only one word, but we both know it was a beg. He smirks at me, deviously.

  “Not yet, kitten. Hold it for me.” Burying my head into his chest I stifle a frustrated scream, struggling not to orgasm. Three or four more deep thrusts, and he releases my wrists, bringing his hand down to my throat to cut off my oxygen for just a few seconds.

  “Now, come now.” I explode at his orders, instinctively closing my legs around his body with the release, my screams muffled with the lack of oxygen.