Under My Boss's Direction: Office Romance Collection With New Novel by Jamie Knight (books to read to be successful .txt) 📕

Not that he seemed to mind at all. Making sure to keep my head moving, so my jaw didn’t get tired, I worked his tasty load into my mouth, swallowing it down slowly, like it was the elixir of life. It had been so long, nearly a week, and I was determined to enjoy it a much as I could. It was almost certain I would get more the next day, when the birth control kicked in full force, but I’d been getting greedy when it came to Ryan. Wanting as much as I could possibly get.

I collapsed against him, softly kissing his pelvis, working my way back up his shaft to lick him clean when I’d rallied enough.

“Your turn,” he declaimed.

Like a shot I was on my back, my legs bent up near my tits, supported by my hands, giving him full access to everything I had. A submissive pose if there ever was one but also a very sexy one.

Ryan’s soft, wet tongue caressed my sensitive pink lips, making me moan, deep and honest. I loved his tongue and I loved him. Our mutual affection manifested in the sex. The phrase ‘physical love’ as literal as it could possibly be. I finally knew what all the songwriters and poets were banging on about.

After a few long, gentle licks to get me warmed up, he started to go fancier, tracing all sorts of interesting shapes and sigils into my tender flesh, making out messages to strange and secret deities, as I moaned out prayers and praise to the heavens. Ones that only intensified when he took it up several notches.

Taking hold of my quivering thighs, Ryan buried his face in my sweet pussy, devouring my sex for all he was worth. Licking, sucking and fingering as though my life depended on it. A pure white burst of pleasure igniting in my mind as he brought me to orgasm, tremors rattling through me like a freight train as I came.

“Fuck!” I panted, slamming back into the bed.

It felt like I’d just run a marathon, my entire being lit up with the warm throb of exertion. Something I’d never felt from receiving oral before, but that just spoke well of Ryan and his methods. He was, by far, the most astounding man I’d ever had the supreme pleasure of knowing. And I was all his.

Without even asking if I could walk, correctly guessing I couldn’t really, my legs were still far too weak and wobbly for that, Ryan raised me up from the bed and took me into the bathroom for a gentle scrub down, dutifully avoiding my pussy, which was still tingling with sensitivity by the time the water was run.

 He left me to soak while he went down to the kitchen to make something to eat. After a while, hair still wet, but swaddled in the softest silk robe known to man, I headed out to join him. He instructed me to sit at the table and I watched as Ryan approached, plates in hand. His dress sense was much the same over the last few days, the only real variance was the density of his jeans, ranging from soft denim to hard, and the color of his sweater. Still more than the diversity of his tweeds, the entire gamut seeming to run from mustard to topaz.

Further evidence of which of his two personas Ryan was more comfortable in. Overall, it seemed he made the political incarnation work for him, doing what was expected in an unexpected way. There was a particular, rebellious joy to be found there. Particularly when one was used to the beat of one’s own drummer.

Even so, I wanted to get to know him, to learn about him. There wasn’t much about his family that was widely available. Either by accident or design, though he did have the air of breeding about him. Repressed as it might have been. Still, sit him down at an aristocrat's table, and I would bet every dime that I had that he would know exactly which fork to use.

“Would you like to go for a swim?” he asked suddenly.

“Now?”

“After breakfast. At least half an hour after just to be safe.”

“Sure, I mean I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“Not a problem.”

“Really? What if someone sees? Someone other than you, I mean?”

“Not going to happen. I own everything, between the highway and the mountains. Most of it is used as public use land but this section, the one with the house and the lake, all that, is for my personal use. There is an entrance to the public area further up the highway. But there’s a fence between there and here.”

“You bought land?”

“It’s a great investment. Highly unlikely to significantly depreciate in value. I also bought it off some tycoon who was holding it all for himself. It filled me with an almost perverse pleasure to open Owens Park. I’m one of those odd folk who thinks nature, for the most part, should be for open use. If you want to own a bit for your own fine but this loon, the one I bought it from, held over twenty-thousand acres for his personal use. It was insane.”

“How many do you have?” I asked out of curiosity.

“About three-thousand acres, most of which is taken up by the lake. The other seventeen went to the park.”

I couldn’t really fault his arithmetic. Three-thousand acres sound like a hell of a lot, but not in comparison to twenty thousand. More than three quarters of that prime, beautiful land was in the public domain. A near-heroic act of selfless altruism in terms of the overall economic climate.

“That’s not much.”

“It’s what I need. I grew up in a family that was richer than God but