Page 6 of Pucking My Off-Limits Billionaire Boss
I can feel her ripple along my shaft as I buck into her, Lucy’s ass bouncing off my cock, her lips gripping me tightly. Again and again I thrust into her, relishing the way her moans melt into sobs of pleasure as my thrusts bring her closer and closer to release.
I decide to let her come. She arches her back hard, a shriek exploding from her lungs as she has her first orgasm, her hands gripping the edge of the desk as she moans and bucks.
She’s tightening against me, enough to bring me to the edge of my own orgasm, but I want something different. I pull out, and before she’s got a chance to react, I take her by the hips and turn her around, sitting her on the desk and stepping between her spread legs. Her green eyes are wide with surprise, but before she can say a word, I’m already back inside of her, pumping like a mad man.
I grin, grabbing her hips and watching her tits bounce back and forth, pulling her onto me deeper.
“Just like that,” she moans. “Just like that…”
Lucy’s cunt is tense, and I can feel her move right to the edge of sweet release. I slide my hands up her sides and whisper into her ear.
“Come for me, baby.”
She does. Lucy’s eyes roll into the back of her head, and she starts spasming on my cock, wet and wild. Another orgasm is ripping through her, and all I can do is drink in the sweet sight of it. I lean forward and capture her lips with mine, her tongue eagerly seeking my own.
The sensation of her pussy gripping me, of her hands on my ass, of her tongue snaking over mine – it’s all too much. I’m pushed over the edge, muffling my roar against her neck as I shudder, my cock erupting inside.
In the aftermath, we find ourselves lying together on the couch in my office at the back of the bar, the quiet hum of the empty tavern around us. The dim light casts a warm glow, creating a cocoon that separates us from the rest of the world.
We're both catching our breath, the reality of what just happened slowly sinking in. I can feel Lucy's heart beating fast against my chest, her head resting on my shoulder in a moment of quiet intimacy. The air is thick with a mix of confusion, exhilaration, and a hint of uncertainty.
After a few moments of silence, Lucy lifts her head, her eyes meeting mine. They're full of questions, mirroring the turmoil I feel inside.
"What just happened, Jake?" she whispers, her voice a mix of wonder and apprehension.
I run a hand through my hair, searching for words that seem to elude me. "I... I don't know, Lucy. That was..." I pause, trying to gather my thoughts. "Unexpected."
She sits up, pulling a throw from the back of the couch around her shoulders. "Unexpected, but not unwanted," she says softly, a small smile playing on her lips.
I nod, sitting up beside her. "Definitely not unwanted. But Lucy, what does this mean for us? We're both moving away, starting new chapters..."
Lucy looks down, her fingers idly playing with the fringe of the throw. "I know. And this... us... it's complicated. I mean, we've always had this... tension, but I never thought..."
"Me neither," I admit, feeling a sense of vulnerability I'm not used to. "But maybe it's not about thinking. Maybe it's just about feeling."
We sit in silence for a moment, lost in our own thoughts. The connection between us is undeniable, but so are the complexities of our impending moves and new beginnings.
Finally, Lucy stands up, her gaze steady. "Maybe we should just take this one day at a time, see where it goes. No pressure, no expectations."
I stand too, feeling a sense of relief at her words. "One day at a time," I agree, offering her a hand. "Let's not define anything just yet."
The night's fervor has given way to a calm stillness, with only the sound of our steady breathing filling the room. Lucy's head rests on my chest, her hair sprawled out like a fiery halo on the pillow. Even in sleep, she manages to toss a sassy arm across me, as if claiming victory in our unspoken battle of wits.
Under the veil of dawn's light, I watch her, the rise and fall of her shoulders hypnotic, peaceful. There's a stirring inside me, a tangle of emotions I can't quite unravel. It's something new, something raw—something I'm not ready to face.
I glance at the clock and curse under my breath. My flight to LA is in an hour, and I need to move, fast. For a fleeting moment, I consider waking her, to at least say goodbye, but I can't bring myself to do it. It would make this real, and I'm not sure I'm ready for real.
Instead, I gently extricate myself from beneath her arm and scribble a quick note. It's light, it's casual—it's me. "Lucy, lock up when you leave. And don't even think about pocketing a bottle of the good stuff on your way out. —Jake"
I pause, pen hovering over the paper, the urge to say more nearly overwhelming. But that's not who I am. I'm not the guy who leaves heartfelt notes; I'm the guy who leaves a playful warning about the booze.
With one last look at Lucy, memorizing the way she looks right now—peaceful, content, a trace of a smile on her lips—I head for the door. I know it'll be a long time before I see her again, and something about that thought tightens my chest.
I leave the note on the bar where she can't miss it, take a deep breath, and step out into the breaking day, closing the door on the night, on Lucy, and on whatever might have been.
3
Lucy
