The Boss (The Boss #1) Read Online Abigail Barnette

Categories Genre: BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Boss Series by Abigail Barnette
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Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 129427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
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“Right there. Oh right there, oh please, oh god, yes,” I babbled as I raced toward another climax, tilting my hips with his shallow thrusts. It was torture. He was just barely inside of me. My muscles clenched, holding his cock tight against that sensitive patch, and as I burned toward release with shrill gasps, he let go of my clit. My blood pounded back into the enflamed flesh, and that was all it took to make me spasm all around him, screaming, sobbing.

I couldn’t take anymore, I realized with a shiver of sensation as he sank into me. He’d told me he wouldn’t stop until I begged him. So, I begged him. “Please, Sir. No more.”

He withdrew slowly. “Take the pillow. Put it on the floor and kneel on it.”

Gooseflesh stood out all over my body. I rose on quivering legs and did as I was told, dropping the pillow on the floor at the foot of the bed. I knelt on it, and looked up at him expectantly as he stood before me.

He rolled the condom off and tossed it on the bed, then rubbed the massive head of his cock against my lips. “You only came twice, Sophie.”

“It was a little too intense, Sir,” I murmured, my tongue slipping out to touch the tight, satiny skin of his cock.

“Oh, then you are in trouble.” He took a breath as I ran my tongue over the slit in his tip. “Because nothing would give me more pleasure than to make you come over and over, with no let up, until you were screaming and sobbing and begging me to stop. Would you like that?”

“Fuck yes, Sir. Just as long as you don’t expect me to walk after.” My thighs trembled with exhaustion at the mere thought of what one more orgasm would have done to me.

I took him in my fist and pumped his length, slowly rolling his foreskin up and then back. I wet my lips and leaned forward to take just his tip into my mouth. Neil’s hand fell on my head, not to urge me along, but to thread through my hair. He exerted no pressure, just held on, and his reaction emboldened me. I circled him with my tongue, slipping between the sensitive glans and the ridge of skin I glided back and forth. Then I dove down the length of him, taking him as deeply as I could.

He groaned, his hips rocking just a little in time to the bobbing of my mouth on him. I lightly raked the nails of my unoccupied hand down the back of his thigh and sucked him slowly, my tongue swirling round and round. I loved how strangely intimate a blowjob could be, almost more so than intercourse. I loved knowing that there was no possible way my partner could be thinking of anything else. The pleasure I took in performing the act made me feel almost selfish.

I tilted my head slightly up, the flat of my tongue lapping the underside of his cock. Neil watched my every move. When we made eye contact, I held it, knowing I was the focus of his entire world. A renewed rush of desire flooded through me at the heat I saw in his eyes.

Slowly and steadily, I kept my hand squeezing and stroking, my lips sliding up and down his length as far as I could. I cupped his balls and felt them draw up, heavy and hot in my hand. The telltale hitch in his breathing, the tight grip he had on my hair, all of it clued me in that he wasn’t going to be much longer. I slightly sped up my efforts, and he groaned, “Oh god,” before his cock jerked and a burst hit the roof of my mouth. It took me a second to react and swallow, but I did, and then again, and again, before I finally released him.

He let go of my hair and offered me a hand up. I took it, giggling, “I need to get a drink of water.”

He briefly pulled me into his arms, planting a quick kiss on my cheek. As I headed to the bathroom, he swatted my behind, and I snickered to myself.

When I came back after rinsing my mouth and using the facilities, Neil was in bed, sitting half-up against the mountain of lush, comfy pillows. I looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Quarter to eleven.

“I should probably...” I didn’t want to finish my sentence, because it sounded an awful lot like I was trying to fuck and run. And I was, but I had work in the morning.

“No, come here. Just for a minute,” he urged, patting the bed beside him. “I don’t want you to go home and have another drop.”

A part of me still thought I could leave and feel fine, but the other part of me remembered the way I’d burst into tears in his office earlier that day and how shitty I had felt. He was right; the whole Domination/submission thing really could mess with my head if I wasn’t careful. I decided to follow his lead on this one.


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