Bastard Boss

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Tyler

Bella on her knees with my cock in her mouth is a fantasy come to life. It was my intent to talk to her about this bullshit my father has created for me and now us, but holy hell, her tongue. She's licking me like I'm a damn lollipop, which is exactly how my fantasy played out. It's almost like she's in my head, when I'm the one who needs to be inside her. Because if she keeps this up, I'm going to unload in her mouth and ruin the hell out of this night.

She sucks me deep and I groan, low and rough. I reach for her and my fingers twine in her hair, guiding her to keep going. But that's not what's in my head—the one that actually thinks and makes proper decisions—the one telling me that I'm screwing this up with Bella. I'm being selfish, allowing my pleasure to be the priority. She won't remember my pleasure tomorrow. She'll remember hers and I want her to remember. That's it. We're done, at least with this. I catch her arms and with supreme effort, drag her away from my cock.

Confusion etches her beautiful features. "You didn't like it?"

I stroke her hair and say "Baby, it was a perfect fantasy come to life, and yes, I've had that fantasy, and about you. But this is not how I want tonight to end." I scoop her up and carry her to the foot of the bed where I set her on her feet again. I sit down, frame her hips, and walk her close, between my legs. My hands caress up her backside and I kiss her belly. Her body trembles in response.

She bites her bottom lip and dives her fingers into my hair and she stares down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. "You had fantasies about me?"

"Yeah, baby, I did. I was never going to act on them, but then you came to my apartment and seduced me with Dirty Dancing."

She smiles, and says, "Swayze had a way about him," only to pant and bite her lip, as my fingers slide along her slick sex. "God, you're so damn wet," I murmur, slipping a finger in and out of her, my opposite hand stroking over her breast, fingers tweaking her nipple.

Her hands come down on my face and she leans in and presses her forehead to mine. "I don't want to come like this either, and if you don't stop, I will. Can you just be inside me now, already? Please, Tyler."

And there is the word I most wanted from her, because they tell me she's all in, one hundred percent present and accounted for. I cup her head and kiss her, scooping her backside as I do and then leaning in to kiss her clit. "Tyler," she breathes out desperately. "I'm about one right move from coming. Please, please be inside me when that happens."

I pull her onto my lap. She eagerly climbs on board, her hands settling on my shoulders, her amazing breasts between us, right at my mouth's reach. I capture her waist, anchoring her, kissing one stiff peak, even as she wraps her hand around my cock and guides me where she wants me. She presses my throbbing erection inside her, and she is tight and wet, and it's about the closest thing to heaven on Earth I can imagine.

When she has all of me, her hands press to my face, and she leans in, her lips above mine as she says, "I'm not going to regret this. How could I?"

That brings me back to Earth with a crash. Too easily, I think, but she's caught in the moment. Right here, right now, she believes tomorrow will be sunshine and daisies while I know differently. For that reason, the sincerity of her words, her belief, cuts me like a knife. I drag her mouth to mine, kissing her with the fierceness of a man who wants to own the woman he's inside. Our bodies start to sway together, and I cover her breasts with my hands, and she covers my hands with her hands. She eases back, squeezing my shaft, her eyes meeting mine as she rides me, and rocks against me.

I lean down and suckle her nipple. Her hands are back in my hair, but I fold her into me, her breasts to my chest, and we're swaying, wild, fast, and then nice and slow. Our breath mingles together, our lips close, and then we're kissing again, touching each other, and I swear to God, when I bury my face in her neck, I want to inhale her, and consume all that she is. I roll her to her back and settle on top of her, her legs spread, one lifting to my hip. I catch her knees and pull them to her chest, and thrust into her, and I'm still not deep enough. I shift both of her knees to my chest, cup her backside and curl her into me, rocking with her. She grabs my shoulders, or tries, and her eyes squeeze shut, sounds of pleasure, hers and mine, filling the air.

I can feel the squeeze of her sex around me, feel how close she is to tumbling over the edge. I roll off with her, taking her with me, and us to our sides, pulling her leg to my hip, shifting our bodies until we're nice and snug. "Good?" I ask softly.

Her fingers curl on my cheek and she says, "Perfect."

There is no better word for a man inside a woman, and my mouth crashes down on hers, my tongue and cock stroking deep. She presses into me, and I mold her close, urgency building between us again, expanding, and then exploding into release. She trembles in my arms and I quake in response. When we're done, we collapse into each other. For long seconds that stretch into a full minute, we just lay there, our bodies entwined.

I finally force myself to reach behind me and grab the box of tissues on the nightstand, pulling out tissues and handing them to her. "Thanks," she says, and then, "I should go to the bathroom." Just like that, she is rolling off the other side of the bed and grabbing her clothes as she races to the other room. The door shuts with a thud. I sit up and run my hand through my hair. Already she's regretting this. I stand up, grab my pants and pull them on and then stand outside the door.

I knock. "Bella?"

She opens the door and just as I expect she's dressed, minus her shoes. "I'll go," she says." I should go to the other room."

I catch her to me, fold her close, and kiss the hell out of her. Her resistance is short-lived, and she melts into me, kissing the hell out of me right back. "Why are you dressed?" I ask when our lips part. "We aren't even close to done with each other."

"I told you, I'm not good at the sex is just sex thing." Her resistance has returned, her hand pressing weakly against my chest. "I need to go."

There are reasons why I am a loner, a past I don't talk about, and history that taught me what is, or at least was, right for me, is to be alone. But I don't even hesitate when I say, "If this was just sex, Bella, I'd be with the waitress downstairs."

"Of course, it's just sex."

"Come on, baby, we both know—"

"Do you even realize what you're saying? When we get back—"

"We'll figure it out."

"Tyler, I'm your employee and you're"—she presses her lips together—"captive to what saves the company and people's jobs. I need to go. It's what's right for us both. Let me by, please."

Now my lips press together and tension knots in my shoulders, but I will not force myself on anyone. I release her. "If that's what you want, Bella." I back out of the doorway, and she walks past me and retrieves her boots, pulling them on where she stands before facing me, hands on her hips. Her hair is wild, sexy, well fucked, while she is not. Not yet. "I need the key to the other room," she states.

"My stuff is in that room Bella. I'll leave." I walk past her, and snatch up my shirt, pulling it on. Then fix my pants, and pull on my own boots. When I stand to leave, she's still where she was, hugging herself, watching me.

I close the distance between me and her and stand in front of her. "You feel as good as you taste. I won't forget that." I walk toward the door and pause, rotating to face her. "I can leave, Bella, right now, and go to my room, where you are not or I can stay and we can order pizza and fuck again."

Her chin dips and she presses her fingers to her forehead before she looks at me and asks, "What kind of pizza, and is there a spanking involved?"