One Night with Her Brooding Boss: Ruthless Boss, Dream Baby / Her Impossible Boss / The Secretary’s Bossman Bargain. Susan Stephens
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he said. Cupping her chin, he made her look at him.
‘I might have healed up…’
He laughed; they both laughed.
‘You’re frightened I might hurt you?’
I’m more frightened of the way you make me feel, Magenta thought. ‘Not that—but I am frightened of losing control. I’m frightened of the sensation that builds inside me each time you touch me. I’m frightened of falling over the edge and never coming back. I’m frightened of experiencing something I can’t begin to cope with.’
‘Can you be more specific?’
‘This is going to sound so stupid to you.’
‘Try me,’ Quinn suggested wryly.
‘I have never—’ She swallowed and started again in a firmer voice. ‘I have never…’
‘Had an orgasm? ‘ Quinn supplied, making her blush.
Her face was on fire. She couldn’t speak.
‘And you want me to show you?’
‘I’m not sure I do,’ Magenta admitted.
‘Only because you don’t know what to expect. When you do, you won’t want to stop.’
Her body responded with outrageous enthusiasm to Quinn’s proposition.
He took his time undressing her, smoothing his hands down her body while she responded eagerly to his touch. Her desire was reflected in Quinn’s eyes. She wanted everything he had to give—more sensation, more caresses—but she suspected Quinn would make her wait now he knew her secret. He would draw this out, allowing her time to think about the magnitude of the pleasure to come—pleasure he would bring her.
He proved this theory now. The more she tried to hurry him, the more his lazy smile assured her that he would set the pace.
‘Why?’ she demanded finally on a shaking breath. ‘Why are you making me wait like this?’
‘Because it will be worth waiting for.’
‘I’ve waited long enough.’
Quinn’s words and his stern expression, the note of command in his voice, all drove her to the pinnacle of lust—which he knew only too well. Quinn understood everything about her needs. He knew how to make her hungry for him and was shameless about using that power. Cupping her breast, he chafed her nipple through the flimsy fabric of her bra while his hot mouth attended to her other nipple. Her new lacy underwear concealed nothing; she could see that her nipples were no longer modestly pink, but were livid and erect. Her cobweb-fine briefs did even less to conceal the brazen swelling of a body that had to know Quinn’s touch—and soon.
He had slipped a pillow beneath her buttocks and now she realised why. He wanted her to see the pleasure he was bringing her—he wanted her to have clear sight of all her erotic zones responding to him as he coaxed them into pleasure.
‘I think you like that,’ he observed when she sucked in a noisy breath.
‘I don’t like you teasing me,’ she complained, writhing beneath him as she tried in vain to capture some elusive pressure from his hands. ‘How can you do this? How can you wait like this?’ She arced towards him, but Quinn was too fast for her, and had already moved his hands away.
‘I can’t bear it!’
‘Well, I can—and you are going to learn the benefit of delay.’
She reached for his belt.
‘I refuse to rush.’
‘You must—you have to help me,’ she insisted. It was then that Quinn pressed his lips to her ear.
‘When you’re swollen and ready to the point where you can’t hold on, then I’ll help you.’ Lifting her, he deftly removed her bra and tossed it aside. She moved to cover herself, but Quinn wouldn’t let her. ‘It’s my turn to look at you,’ he said.
She loved the note of command in his voice and, resting back on the pillow, she raised her arms above her head, displaying her body for his approval. Her breasts were full; Quinn approved, she gathered, as he caressed them. When he had suckled to his heart’s content, he buried his face in them. ‘You were made to be loved, Magenta Steele.’
By you. Only by you. ‘Has anyone ever told you you’re very good at this?’ she said, easing her head on the pillow to look down at him.
‘How would you like me to answer that?’ Quinn demanded softly, staring at her with amusement.
‘With the truth?’
But Quinn just laughed and moved farther down the bed.
She cried out softly, feeling his hot breath on her thighs. ‘Oh please,’ she begged as his strong, white teeth teased and tormented, sharp against her hot flesh. Arcing her body, she made it easier for him to remove the scrap of lace, which was all that was left between them, and then whimpered when he pressed her to him flesh to flesh. She should feel embarrassed—awkward, apprehensive—but instead she was lifting her hips for him. She was ready, more than ready, for the pleasure Quinn had promised her.
And then he touched her.
SHE went quite still. She didn’t want to breathe or move in case she did anything to distract Quinn and make the pleasure stop. Time was suspended as he began to touch her in a more purposeful manner. His movements were leisurely so she had a chance to relish each studied movement. Delicately parting her swollen lips, he touched her with his tongue. Rough tongue, hot flesh, warm breath and the steady but dependable rhythm he set up soon brought her to the edge. ‘Lie still,’ he commanded. ‘Let me do everything. Do you understand?’
She could only gasp something unintelligible in reply. She wanted to keep her focus on Quinn and the pleasure he was bringing her.
He began again.
‘Oh, no, no, no! ‘ she exclaimed, thrashing her head about on the pillows when he stopped. ‘You can’t stop now. Even you couldn’t be so cruel!’
‘Cruel?’ Quinn demanded softly, moving back up the bed. ‘I’m not cruel. You have no idea how considerate I can be—especially when you follow my instructions to the letter.’
‘You are so bad,’ she breathed. ‘But I will. I will…’
The last thing she saw was Quinn’s lips curving and then he was moving down the bed to start again.
‘I can’t hold on,’ she wailed as the tidal wave rushed towards her.
Quinn might have answered; she wouldn’t have known. She bucked convulsively as the first climactic throb of pleasure claimed her, and only heard herself crying out his name when the violent surges of pleasure began to subside. Quinn held her as she writhed beneath his firm touch until she quietened. ‘That was…amazing.’
‘More?’ he suggested.
‘I have to undress you.’
‘You have to? ’ Quinn curbed a grin.
‘Absolutely. Now I know what I’ve been missing. Like you said, I have plans.’
Sitting up in bed with her long, dark hair tumbling over her shoulders, she started on Quinn’s belt. She hated the thickness of the leather and the stubbornness of the tine. His erection thrust imperatively against the denim, tantalising her, taunting her, and when she finally released the zip it flew back under enormous pressure. ‘Lift your hips.’ Her voice sounded harsh and primitive, matching the hunger inside her. Inhibitions meant nothing to her now. She was claiming her mate.
Boxers followed Quinn’s jeans to the floor, and