MY BOSS IS A LION

by Lizzie Lynn Lee

  He put a hand in her hair, his fingers gathering a bunch of it as he looked down at her. “That’s it baby. Take me. Lick my cock. Let me feel those sexy lips.”

  Her heart fluttered. She let her tongue out and dragged it lazily along his length and across his tip. His cock pulsed. She smiled. Like it?

  “Fuck,” he said.

  “Okay,” she replied mischievously, looking longingly at his cock again before opening her mouth and wrapping her lips around the massive, dark crown. The intake of breath she heard from him sent just as much excitement through her as she moved her tongue around the bulging head of his cock, swirling over it and savoring every bit of the warm, smooth flesh.

  Slowly, she started to suck him, trying to take in as much of him as she possibly could. He was lavishly proportioned but that didn’t intimidate her. His hand was on her back, encouraging her as she grew more adventurous, stroking along the bottom of his cock and drawing it firmly back up to the tip. Her hand moved to his balls massaging them gently as she felt his cock start to pulse in her mouth. Deep groans reverberated in his chest. “Fuck,” he whispered, and to her delight, with another jerk of his cock, she tasted his precum, a warm bead of his fluids in her mouth as she sucked him.

  As she worked his member, his breath grew quicker, his hand gripping her hair tighter. She knew he was close to climax. She wanted him to come in her mouth, reaping her reward. It was exhilarating that she had the power to make the mighty beast like him purr like kitten in her hand.

  But as she brought him so very close to the brink of pleasure, she felt him tugging her away by the hair and he stopped her. She looked up at him questioningly.

  “I want you now,” he growled. He angled his cock out of her mouth and knelt down. With one smooth move, he pushed her on her back and mounted her.

  She gasped as he filled her to the brim. His thick cock stretched her and when he started to move, she thought she was going to have an instant orgasm. She watched him, wide-eyed, as his cock rubbed the most sensitive spot within her, nearly crippling her with pleasure.

  There’s a lion in that man, the thought raced through her head as he pounded into her over and over. He’s claiming you as his own. He’s practically feral, Rose, what on earth are you doing?

  “I love you, Joe,” she said between breaths as he fucked her fiercely.

  He grinned, his expression predatory. “Mine,” he growled. He slipped his hands under her hips, holding her up and at a higher angle as he rammed into her. His motions were quick and precise.

  The pleasure quickly gathered like a hurricane and pushed her beyond the precipice. Her body tensed as the sheer force of the orgasm paralyzed her for a moment. The intensity of it wracked her body, rendering her helpless.

  He came a few seconds after her as she was utterly blown away by overwhelming sensation. When it finally subsided, both of them drew long breaths, and she could tell that he was just as stunned as she was at what had just transpired between them.

  He disengaged from her, laying bare in the moonlight. Rose rolled over and let herself go motionless beside him, his warmth radiating over her blissfully as she felt warmer inside than she had ever dared dream.

  The two of them lay in the grass for longer than they could keep track of, gazing up at the stars and the moon.

  “Rose,” Joe said at last, and she turned her head to look at that gorgeous face of his in the moonlight. “This city is too dangerous. Those men I dealt with—they may not be the last.”

  “I kind of guessed that,” she answered softly, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze.

  “I’m going to close the agency, move out of state,” he said, finality in his voice as he looked over at her. “But Rose… I want to take you with me. You and the kids, too. I know I’m selfish and I’m not conventional as far as family material goes, but—”

  Rose cut him off as she rolled over in the grass and met his lips, kissing him softly, running a hand over his chest. “Joe,” she said, her voice barely a whisper as a boyish grin spread across his face, “I’d like to take that chance. I’d follow you wherever you go. I think we belong together.”

  He gave a murmur, a grateful sound deep in his chest. “Whatever comes, Rose,” he rumbled, “know that you’re under my protection. You and the girls. I mean that.”

  She sighed a deep, satisfied sigh against him, and his body conformed around hers, laying there naked in the night’s air knowing that whatever the future held, whether it be hardship or a life of leisure, she, her lion, and her kids would all face it together. As one.

  As a family.

  The End.

  Dear Reader,

  If you enjoyed this book, I’d be humbly ever so grateful if you would spare a little time to leave a review even if it’s only a line or two. And if you like to be notified for upcoming books, please consider joining my new release notification list.

  Please visit my website: http://ilizzie.com to sign up.

  Smuttily Yours,

  Lizzie

  About the Author:

  Lizzie Lynn Lee is a gutter-minded hopeless romantic who doesn’t live in this world most of the time. In her perfect utopia, her heroes never take their women for granted, love at first sight exists and soul mates always find a way to be together. She invites you to visit her world, where she spins her tales because the men are sizzling hot, master the art of sex and they are really into their ladies—be that a slim girl, or curvy, interracial, interspecies, sassy or shy—their adventures redefine erotica. Are you ready to be thrilled?

  www.ilizzie.com

  Lizzie Lynn Lee Bibliography

  Shunga Chronicles: Lady of the Snow

  Love in the Elevator

  Shunga Chronicles: Prince and the Assassin

  Payback

  Shunga Chronicles: Flight of the Heron

  Wicked Game

  Eve Aizawa: Eve of Seduction

  Busted

  Eve Aizawa: Deus Eve Machina

  Sexopalooza

  Switched

  Cyber Lover

  Jumping Bones

  The Wolf She Married

  Savannah’s Menage

  Charly’s Chocolate Factory with Celia Kyle

  Original Sin

  Lycan Wars 1: Instinct

  Claimed

  Hot-Blooded

  Fierce Heat with Celia Kyle

  Orient Fevre

  Gilded Cage

  Corporate Plaything

  Spirit World: Maison Plaisir

  To Bed A Goddess

  The Last Siren

  The Donor

  The Alien King and I

  Dangerous Curves: Wet

  Lions of the Serengeti: Jennifer’s Lion

  Lions of the Serengeti: Sarah’s Lion

  Bound to Me: Fever Lust

  Private Sessions

  Lions of the Serengeti: Caly’s Lion

  Faerykin

  Werebeasties

  Dragon Hunts

  Night of the Lions

  Chain of Lust

  Taken By a Nymph

  Maiden and the Lion

  Dominate Me with Noelle Ashford

  To Blackmail a Billionaire with Noelle Ashford

  Her Dragon Billionaire

  Kidnapped and Claimed

  Her Tiger Billionaire

  Raven’s Bride

  Her Lion Billionaire

  Bad Dick

  Naughty Librarian

  Lions of the Serengeti: Yazmina’s Lion

  Naughty Boys

  Scorched

  Tamed

  The Man with the Dragon Wings

  Tiger In Her Bed

  Hot Like Fire, Cold As Ice

  Animalistic

  My Boss is a Lion

  Special Preview: Animalistic

  A real woman should have curves, Trent thought as he zeroed his attention in on a lady by the counter who was ordering her own coffee.

  There.

  Like her.

  The bar
ista handed her a tall Styrofoam cup and a brown box, which contained a cream cheese brownie from the pastry case. Even her coffee was topped high with whipped cream. She didn’t seem like one of those girls who always fussed about her weight. She took a tentative sip, eyes half-closed, as she savored her drink. Her figure was lush, tantalizingly voluptuous. She looked healthy, as if she enjoyed what life had to offer. Trent loved women like her: low maintenance, humble, and approachable.

  But she was more than that. She was a natural beauty. Pale skin. Glossy raven hair that she kept short above her shoulders. Her attire was formal; she was wearing a black career suit with a sheer white blouse. Sensible shoes. Minimal makeup. She was beautiful without trying too hard.

  Damn. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  She was his kind of girl.

  Unlike the two bottled-blonde chicks who came to his table uninvited. He stopped at the coffee shop to get his latte fix and while waiting for his order, two college-aged girls swooped in and tried to introduce themselves. Trent wasn’t really paying attention to them. That woman in the black suit was the one who caught his interest.

  But she paid the cashier and left before he could say anything.

  It was clear she worked in an office, but Trent couldn’t decide what kind. In addition to her purse, she carried an attaché overstuffed with folders and papers. He caught a quick whiff of her scent, even from a distance. As a weretiger, he possessed a keen sense of smell.

  Damn. She smelled so good. Fruity. Like strawberries. Or was it peaches? Maybe it was her shampoo or her soap. But whatever it was, she made him excited. He knew he had to have her, whoever she was. The beastly part of him wanted her too. His tiger became frisky the moment she entered the coffee shop. His alter beast wanted to play.

  Badly.

  “So, Trent, do you want my phone number?” Even though he didn’t respond, one of the girls wrote her phone number down on a napkin and slid it across the table to him. A coy smile accompanied her flirty expression.

  Trent’s gaze darted briefly to the napkin before it returned to the woman who had stolen his attention.

  Follow her, his tiger demanded, she’s mine.

  Trent rose without hesitation. “Sorry, not interested.”

  He left without so much as a backward glance.

  The hot Manhattan sun began unmercifully beating down the moment he stepped onto the sidewalk. It was late July, which in New York, was the height of the summer. It had been unseasonably hot lately, and quite humid. However, Trent wasn’t bothered by it at all. He had spent three tours in the Middle East during his commission with the Air Force, so the heat was like second nature now. He had been discharged about a month ago and returned to New York, temporarily crashing at his mom’s house. But now that he had found himself an apartment, he would be moving out of his mom’s by the end of the week.

  The sidewalk outside the coffee shop bustled with people. A few gave him a once over, mostly women. Trent was used to that. He and his brothers were blessed with good looks, gifted from their parents. Sometimes he felt like his looks were more of a nuisance than anything. Girls wouldn’t leave him alone and guys hated him because he attracted too much attention.

  Now, he searched through the crowd for the mystery woman from the café, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. She couldn’t have gotten too far on foot. Then, he locked in on her scent: strawberry and peach. But on this hot day, her scent mingled with other people’s sweat, steam from the subway grates, and all the other various smells of the city baking under a summer sun; the result was confusing. He sniffed again and gambled.

  Left. She went left.

  Trent headed in her direction. There were a few shops that lined the sidewalk before the building cut off into an alley. Dumpsters were filled to the brim. Junk was strewn all over the pavement. And a homeless person was sprawled in the corner, completely passed out.

  Then he saw her.

  With two guys.

  Christ.

  She was being mugged.

  “Hey! What the fuck are you doing?” Trent yelled as he ran in her direction.

  The woman was clearly rattled. She clutched her purse while her attaché case lay ripped on the asphalt. Papers fluttered everywhere and yellow manila folders were smashed in alley muck.

  Upon hearing his shouts, the muggers directed their attention to Trent. The bigger guy rushed toward Trent, cursing profanities as he swung a blade rather clumsily. Trent avoided the knife easily and disarmed him. Trent had been training in Krav Maga, a close combat martial art, since he was a teenager. With lightning-quick movement, he grabbed the guy’s arm and quickly wrenched it behind his back. Bones creaked. The man shouted. Trent applied more pressure to render the mugger helpless and the guy yelped in pain.

  His friend, a smallish man in a flannel shirt and sporting a douchebag goatee, retaliated. He pointed his gun at Trent but didn’t fire. It was then that Trent realized the guy’s gun was fake. Without hesitation, Trent punched the douchebag goatee guy straight in the face. He dropped like a stone, out cold.

  The big guy got to his feet and started to flee. Trent blocked his path and grabbed his arm again. He twisted the big guy’s wrist until he heard an audible crack. The big guy howled in pain. Trent wasn’t even fighting to his full capabilities, but he used more force than he should have. In the presence of his mysterious lady in the black suit, his alter beast had become excited and demanded to be let free.

  Trent turned to the distressed woman. “Are you all right?”

  “You broke my wrist, dude!” the big guy screeched.

  “I wasn’t asking you.” Trent looked back at his dame-in-distress. “You okay?”

  The woman nodded furiously. She started gathering her scattered belongings.

  “Did they take anything from you?”

  “J-just my wallet.”

  “Give the lady her wallet back, you scum,” Trent barked at the big guy.

  “All right. All right. Don’t hurt me.”

  “That’s funny coming from you. Guess it isn’t fun when the tables are turned, is it?” Trent let the big guy’s arm go.

  The big guy whined some more before producing a woman’s wallet from his pocket. He handed it timidly to the lady in black.

  “Are we cool now, bro?” he asked Trent. “We’re cool, right? We gave the lady her stuff back. Can we go now?”

  “I’m not your bro.” Trent helped the lady with the papers. “Did you call 911?”

  She startled and quickly shook her head. “No. I don’t want to press charges. I just want to get this over with.”

  The big guy started thanking the lady.

  Trent told him to shut up. He turned to her with concern. “Are you sure? If you don’t report these guys, they’re just going to do it again.”

  “I got my wallet back. I don’t want to waste my time by filling out a police report, giving a statement, and all that. I’m late now as it is.”

  “Are you sure?” Trent shot the man a dirty look. “They ruined your briefcase.”

  “It’s old. I don’t care.”

  The douchebag goatee guy started to rouse from his unconsciousness. The big guy helped his friend up.

  Trent glared at them both. “You heard the lady. Now get lost.”

  The muggers scrambled away. Douchebag goatee guy started cursing but the big guy shut his friend up and made a beeline to the opposite side of the alley. They both disappeared.

  Meanwhile, some people had congregated at the mouth of the alley, watching the commotion. Two teenagers filmed what had just transpired. Nobody seemed to be calling the cops. Typical. Seeing that the muggers were gone, people finally started to disperse. Except the two teenagers, who were still recording.

  Trent snarled at them, “Scram!”

  “Those were some cool moves, man,” said one of the teenagers, before they shuffled away.

  Trent rolled his eyes. He picked up and handed the last of the papers to her, but only after he “acc
identally” read what was on them. They looked like court orders. “You’re a lawyer?”

  “Paralegal.”

  “With what firm?”

  “I’m late,” she snapped. “Sorry. I’m just having a bad day.”

  “We all do. What’s your name?”

  She only shook her head and stuffed all the papers into the torn briefcase. Since the handle was broken, she tucked it under her arm. “Thank you for your help.”

  “Can’t I at least have your name?”

  “Why? My name isn’t important.”

  “Just common courtesy, after I rescued you.”

  “So you had an ulterior motive? Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t play games.” She stood up and dusted off her pants. The cuff was splattered with coffee, as the Styrofoam cup full of her coffee had smashed near the dumpster. The brown box from the coffee shop was obliterated. The contents were flattened with the visible print of size-ten shoes. It was probably the big guy who had stomped on it.

  “Lady, I just want to know your name. That’s all.”

  She took a deep, wavering breath. “Arielle. And thank you for your help, Superman.” She started walking away.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? Can I drive you to your office?”

  “Now you’re being creepy. I said I’m fine and thank you. You better go save Lois Lane. Good day to you, sir.”

  “I’m just worried about you.”

  She had already rushed out of the alley with a brisk pace, as if she were afraid he was going to chase after her.

  Trent cursed to himself. Here he thought he had the perfect opening to get to know her and she didn’t even bat an eye. Fuck.

  He had never been cut off so coldly by the opposite sex before. For once in his young life, a woman had resisted his charms and good looks. It annoyed the hell out of him.

  It was only then that he noticed a stack of business cards scattered on the ground near the smashed Styrofoam cup. Trent picked one up. The card read;

  Arielle Winter, JD.

  Senior Paralegal

  Hoffman, James, & Associates

  Bingo.

  Well, the encounter wasn’t a total loss. At least he knew her full name and address. He just had to be patient. Perhaps the next time, she wouldn’t be so cold. He grabbed the rest of the cards and pocketed them.