Best of Penny Wylder: Boss Romance

by Wylder, Penny

  “You are goddamn intoxicating, you know that?” he murmurs against my ear, his breath hot enough to make my head spin all over again. “More potent than the whiskey.”

  I laugh, but it’s faint, breathy. It’s hard to catch a full breath with this man’s strong arms around me, protective and possessive at once. “Look who’s talking,” I murmur, and he pulls back just far enough to meet my gaze again, his blazing hot.

  “You don’t want to get mixed up with me, Cassidy,” he says, suddenly sounding far more sober than I feel. My heart skips a beat. But I can’t tear my gaze from those deep, soulful eyes. I couldn’t make my legs work to walk away from him if I wanted to—and I really, really don’t want to.

  “Try me,” I reply, lifting my chin, meeting his challenge with one of my own.

  His lip curves in a half smirk. Deadly and dangerous all at once. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he replies. Then his mouth comes down on mine, harder this time, insistent, and my lip spart beneath his, let him take what he wants.

  When we part again, my chest heaves. His hands have reached my thighs now, then my ass. He grips me hard, and I gasp at the feeling. He crushes me against him, and I can feel the hard jut of his cock, straining against his jeans. The way he’s standing, towering over me, it digs into my belly, stretching the whole length from my waist to under my chest, and it makes me desperate to see him without any clothing on. To touch that cock with my bare hands.

  “Fuck,” I breathe, and his eyes flash with amusement.

  “Don’t tempt me.” His gaze drips over my body again, and I shiver, feeling every place that he looks at as if it were his hands roaming over me now, touching every inch of me. “I’d love to keep you all night, Cassidy. Make you scream my name…”

  I search his gaze, challenging. “What are we waiting for then?” I ask him. Simple, straightforward. It’s blunter than I’ve ever been with a guy before. But something tells me Lark will appreciate it.

  To judge by the way that infuriating half-smirk of his widens, I’m right.

  I don’t even notice him flag it down, but before long, a taxi is pulling up beside us.

  “Last chance,” he says, eyebrow arched. “I can take you home. Or, I bring you back to mine, and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow.” He says the latter in a whisper, leaning in to catch my earlobe between his teeth again, biting down until the faint spark of pain makes me gasp.

  “Yours,” I breathe.

  We slide into the back of taxi—or rather, Lark slides in, and then he pulls me inside and shuts the door behind us both. I’m tempted to straddle him, but he makes me put on my belt instead, and in a guilty flash I remember his brother, the accident.

  I’m about to say something, but Lark cuts me off by kissing me again. At the same time, his hand inches up the smooth plane of my thigh, toward the edge of my dress.

  Our lips part, and he smirks at me, one eye on the driver. “How quiet can you be?” he murmurs softly.

  I bite my lower lip in response.

  Then his fingers slide higher. Up, up, up the smooth expanse of my thighs until he reaches the crease where my leg meets my hip bone. He traces it with his forefinger, his eyes on me all the while. I glance at the driver again, nervous, but the man’s attention is on the road, at least.

  “Ah, ah.” Lark lifts an eyebrow. “Look at me.”

  My gaze jumps back to his, and my breath catches again.

  His finger slides beneath my panties.

  He spreads his hand to cup my pussy in his palm, the rough, calloused heel of his hand like striking a match over my bare-shaven mound. My hips buck up off the seat and into his palm, eager to grind against him, but he draws back a little, smirking.

  “So eager.” He leans in to kiss the edge of my jawline. “Let me guess. You’re already wet for me, too.” His breath is searing hot, his words so low I can barely hear him over the rumble of the cab, the faint tinny sound of the radio playing in the driver’s area.

  I bite my lower lip, my eyes fluttering shut, as Lark’s fingers glide over my mound until he reaches my pussy lips. His thumb grazes my clit, enough to make me jump again. I hadn’t realized how turned on I was until now, but I can feel my clit, pulsing and heavy between my thighs, swollen with desire.

  Then his fingers slide between my pussy lips, and I inhale sharply through my nose, trying as hard as I can not to make any sounds. Slowly, slow enough to feel like torture, albeit an impossibly enjoyable kind, Lark presses the tip of his forefinger inside me.

  I try to shift closer to him, but with his free hand, he pins me against the seat, lifting one eyebrow as if to tease me. He knows what he’s doing, the bastard.

  He leans in again. “I love watching you squirm.” His smile widens, and he adds a second finger inside me, my pussy stretching around his thick fingers, little shockwaves of pleasure firing through my system. “God, you’re so fucking wet,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

  I lean against him, surrendering, letting him take the lead. I forget where we are, so much so that when he starts to stroke me, in and out, his fingers curling slowly inside me, I gasp aloud.

  Lark kisses me to muffle the sound, and I can feel him grinning against my mouth. “Shh,” he breathes, and I have to bite my lower lip, hard, to keep quiet when he begins to move his fingers faster, thrusting in and out of me.

  My heartbeat picks up. I can hear the noise of the road under us and the music the driver’s playing, but it’s all distant, out of focus. The only thing I can focus on right now; the only thing I can see clearly, is Lark. Those eyes of his fixed on me, like he’s hungry too, lapping up my reactions.

  I twist against him, my hips rising off the seat to thrust against his hand in tiny, quick motions.

  In response, he presses the heel of his hand down, until it connects with my clit. I gasp again, and clamp my lips together, hard, to prevent any other sound from emerging.

  It gets harder and harder to stay quiet, though, as he strokes me toward a climax. His fingers glide in and out of my tight pussy easily now, I’m so fucking soaked. And his heel stays right where it is, pressed to my clit, so that with every stroke it sends fireworks through my veins, sets off sparks behind my eyelids.

  Right as I near the peak, Lark must sense it, because he bends close again, his face inches from mine. “Come for me, Cassidy,” he whispers, and then his lips collide with mine, his tongue parting mine.

  I cry out, faint enough that it’s muffled by his mouth, by this kiss. And the orgasm hits me full force, my whole body shaking from it. All the while, he continues to stroke me, pushing his fingers into me again and again.

  Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, that I might hit a second orgasm right here and lose all control over my voice completely, Lark draws his fingers out of my pussy. Then, still watching me, his warm, solid body pressed against mine in the backseat of the darkened cab, he lifts his hand to his face, and slowly licks my juices from his fingers, one by one.

  My heart continues to pound, my eyes wide as I watch him. “Fuck,” I finally breathe, not sure whether I mean the sight of him doing that, or the orgasm he just gave me, or all of it. Everything.

  He grins and kisses my cheek, my jawline. “Just wait until we get home,” he murmurs. “I want to taste every inch of you.”

  Those words are enough to leave me practically vibrating until the taxi parks outside his house. He pays and pulls me out beside him. It’s dark, so I don’t get a good look, but I get the feeling this is an expensive apartment. Doorman building, one of the top floors, if not the top. I don’t know—I don’t pay much attention in the elevator, because the moment the doors close behind us, Lark pins me against the wall, his tongue parting my lips, his hands hiking up my skirt.

  I gasp and peer around him, worried. “What if—” I start to say, worried someone else might step inside the elevator, or call it to their floor, only to find us naked inside.

  But then it slows to a halt,
and the doors ping open, and I realize that would have been impossible. Because the doors open straight into Lark’s place.

  “Whoa.” My eyes go wide as I take the place in. Definitely expensive as hell. It’s a modern style apartment, with floor to ceiling windows all along one side that overlook the city, and an open plan kitchen and living room. It’s tastefully decorated, all minimalist and stylish, except for the fireplace, which adds a bit of warmth to the room, complete with a throw rug in front of it.

  But it screams bachelor pad, too.

  Lark leads me from the elevator by the hand, and as the doors slide shut again behind us, he pins me against them, one finger curling underneath my chin in order to tilt my head back, until my gaze jumps back to his. “That cab ride was about a century too long.”

  “Couldn’t agree more,” I reply, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Then his mouth crushes against mine, and he hikes up the hem of my dress in one smooth motion, drawing it up and over my head.

  It falls somewhere to the side. I barely notice, because I’m tugging at the buttons on his shirt. My fingers fumble with them for a minute, before I give up and just yank, hard, sending buttons pinging around us.

  Lark laughs, where his mouth is crushed to mine. “Eager, are you, kitten?” Then he draws back just far enough to take in my expression, and I swear, his eyes seem to darken with desire. “Me too.”

  My eyes must be doing the same as his, because fuck. I knew I felt muscles under his tightly buttoned clothes, but seeing him shirtless has taken my breath away. He’s cut like no man I’ve ever slept with before, solid as a rock, with those V-line muscles pointing straight down to where… Fuck. The bulge in his jeans is huge. I’m reaching for it, when Lark interrupts me.

  He grips my ass hard and lifts me into his arms. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist. I can feel that hard bulge of his cock digging into my belly as he carries me, my hands digging into the hard plains of his shoulders, over to the kitchen counter. He sets me on the edge and unsnaps my bra at the same time, practically throwing it aside.

  He pauses for a second, like the sight of me naked it is driving him wild, too. “God, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, his breath tickling my collarbone. Then he dips lower, kisses and licks his way down between my breasts. My head falls back, my whole body arched toward him, like I’m just a puppet and he’s the master. He tilts his head to one side, licks along the underside of my breast, making my toes curl and my whole body tingle with the sensation. Higher and higher, his tongue trails, until he sucks my nipple into his mouth, his lips pursed around it. His tongue toys with my nipple, laps against it until I can feel it getting hard.

  With his free hand, he cups my other breast, his thumb toying with my nipple, alternating between gently rolling it and pinching just hard enough to make me gasp.

  He tilts his head back, and eyes me for a second, my breast wet from his hot mouth, his lips swollen from kissing it. “You were so good at being quiet in the cab,” he says, grinning. “Now I’ll have to see if I can make you scream.”

  Then his hands dip down, tracing my curves, sending heat waves through me as they go, and his thumbs hook under the edges of my panties.

  He raises me up just high enough to pull them off, and pushes them down, spreading my legs wide as he does.

  My lips part. He’s still wearing his pants, which hardly seems fair. But just as I’m about to point that out, he drops to his knees, and pushes his face between my thighs.

  His tongue traces the upper edge of my thighs, along the crease where they meet my hips, and then he trails his tongue, flat like a blade, over the outer lips of my pussy. “You smell as good as you tasted,” he says, those eyes jumping up to meet mine.

  He keeps his eyes on mine, as he straightens his tongue into a spearhead, and presses it inside me.

  I moan, holding his gaze, my toes curling and every muscle in my body goes taut as a bowstring. The sight of this man on his knees between my legs unfurls sensations deep in my belly, a sense of pleasure, of rightness, and searing heat. He’s hungry, relentless, his tongue plunging into me again and again, and it doesn’t take me long to near a climax again, my whole body still sensitive from earlier, hovering at the brink.

  “Fuck, Lark,” I manage to breathe, never taking my gaze from his. “Right there, oh, God… Don’t stop.”

  But he does still, for a moment. Withdraw his tongue, and my whole body twists in frustration. “Ask me nicely,” he says, breath hot against my skin.

  “Please,” I gasp, not even caring how I sound anymore. I’m desperate. “Please, Lark, let me come.”

  He smirks. And then he plunges his tongue back inside me. Licks and licks, until my head falls back and I lose track of time, space.

  I cry aloud this time, not bothering to try to stifle it. My voice echoes in the big, open space, and my toes curl, my thighs tightening around his head.

  But he doesn’t waste any time. I’m still trembling, my pussy soaked and twitching after the force of the orgasm, when he rises to his feet again and pushes his jeans down.

  God. His cock, where it springs free, is a thing of glory. Thick and veined along one side, with a glistening spot of precum at the tip. I reach for him, but he’s already pulling something from a side drawer—a condom. He tears open the package, but I take it from him then, eyes on his.

  “I want to feel you,” I tell him. So I take my time rolling the condom down the length of his thick shaft. Jesus. It takes both of my hands combined to fit around him, he’s so thick. Will he fit? Part of me wonders. But the rest of me is eager to find out.

  He steps closer, his hands sliding up my thighs, gripping tight.

  “I want your cock inside me.” I lean back against the counter to look up at him.

  He reaches up with one hand to brush my hair back over my shoulder, then cups my cheek. I tilt my face into his palm, savoring how warm he feels. He tips down, until his forehead rests against mine, and his cock is poised between my legs, standing hard, just inches from my pussy.

  “Please?” I add, my eyes flickering back up to his, remembering how he liked that earlier.

  His cock jumps with tension, and his smirk widens. “I just want to remember this, that’s all,” he says. Then he reaches down to wrap a fist around the base of his cock, and guides his tip to my entrance. “Look at me,” he orders, and I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to. My gaze rises to meet his. “I want to feel every fucking inch of you. Savor every second of this.”

  Slowly, so slowly it makes my whole body arch up and tremble with anticipation, he begins to press his cock inside me. The head of him slips between my lips and into my pussy, stretching me wide as he goes. He rocks his hips forward, pushes another inch into me, and a moan escapes my lips at the sensation of him filling me.

  He keeps moving, keeps rocking back and pressing forward again, until, inch by inch, his cock pushes deep into my pussy. Finally, when he’s fully inside me, he pauses again, his eyes on mine, savoring my reaction.

  His hands slide around my waist, tight, holding me steady.

  “God, you feel good,” he murmurs. “So fucking tight.”

  I clench my pussy muscles around him, and he smirks in response. I do, too. “Fuck me,” I breathe.

  And he obeys me. He draws out and pushes back into me, faster this time, hard enough to make my ass rock against the countertop. His hands pin me in place, and he starts to build up rhythm, pulling out and thrusting back into me faster with each pass. I rock with him—or at least, I try to, thrusting my hips, but I can only move so far with his big, strong hands pinning me there, holding me right where he wants me.

  At the same time, my hands trace over his chest, feeling the plains of his muscles, memorizing the feel of his body.

  His scent envelops me, musky and heady all at once, and when his mouth comes down on mine again, I moan into his kiss, because it just feels so fucking good to surrender control, to let him take me however he wants
.

  He buries his face in my neck, his hands so tight they almost hurt, but the pain only adds to the pleasure. He growls, then, and the sound sends sparks through my body. “Fuck, Cassidy.” He bites my neck, his teeth sharp, stinging, but I moan with pleasure at the sting.

  “Lark…”

  “I need you,” he says, and those words send a pulse through me, make my belly tighten and my legs clamp tight around his waist. All the while, he continues to thrust into me, over and over, and the pressure builds, my whole body on fire with want for him.

  “I want to hear you come for me,” he says again, and then, without warning, he pulls me up and off the counter, holding me in his arms. I cling onto him. At this angle, it drives his cock into me, right along my front wall, dragging over my G-spot as he holds me up in his arms and fucks me, hard and fast, his thick cock driving me wild.

  “Come for me, Cassidy,” he orders, and there’s no disobeying the steely command in his voice.

  I’m so close, right at the edge, my whole body shaking, my breath coming in fast pants.

  “Do it,” he says, louder, and I scream as I come undone.

  The orgasm hits me full force, makes my whole body tremble. He keeps right on fucking me. He pushes my ass back against the counter and pounds into me, his balls slapping against my pussy lips with every deep, hard thrust. His cock fills me, makes me feel stuffed, so fucking full. My body arcs back, away from him, and his lips find my breast, suck my nipple into his mouth as he continues to fuck me.

  I’m still moaning when the second orgasm comes, hard on the heels of the first, making me writhe across the countertop. He slides his hands under the arch of my back, supporting me, holding me in midair as he nears his own finish.

  He finishes with a growl, pulling me against him, crushing my soft curves into his chest as his cock thrusts deep into me. I’m still panting, slick with sweat, when he pulls out of me, bends to kiss me, softer this time, his lips lingering against mine.

  When we part, he’s smirking again, watching me.

  “Fuck,” I manage to say.