Caught by the Boss

30

LEILA

I'm fuming as I storm out of the cabin.

He hired a detective. He did it again. Found out how to overstep. Used his power to belittle me. I thought we were past that, but clearly not.

I return to the lake that we enjoyed, and I swear I see water evaporating from my trail of fiery anger.

I dip my feet in the water, frustrated by the memories I made with him here. Being in his muscular, warm embrace had been heaven. But it was all a trap. And I fell for it like an idiot. Fell deeper in love as I was getting stretched by his unimaginable cock.

I was about to tell him that I wanted to stay with him in his home. But now that I know he has been stalking me, carefully plotting every move, I don't know if I want to give him another chance.

I stay by the lake for hours until it's dark and cold and the cabin calls for me. My anger has dwindled to disappointment and confusion. Hector helped me when I got arrested, and I appreciate that, but I don't condone his means.

When the sound of a creepy critter comes from across the lake, I bail out of there. I might be pissed at the millionaire, but I've gone nothing against his safe, warm cabin.

When I enter, I find him where I left him: sitting at the dining table. I don't address him. Not wanting to look at his distractingly handsome face and broad shoulders.

I go to my room. As I sink on the bed, I realize it's nothing like Hector's bed. His was much wider and plush. My preference is influenced by getting nailed into his bed by his relentless thrusts.

I keep glancing at the door. I didn't lock it, wondering what Hector will do next.

Half an hour later, I have my answer: he's staying away.

— —

I stayed up all night thinking of what Hector's admission means. After a few hours I begrudgingly appreciated that he told me. That he didn't keep it a secret forever.

Now I stand by the door, dressed and holding my bags. I'm ready to walk outside. It's eleven now. I skipped breakfast to avoid seeing him for a few more hours.

With a deep inhale and a reminder to not fall victim to his handsome face and dangerous muscles, I push the door open.

He's in the kitchen, a cup of coffee on the table. He's sitting on the same chair as yesterday and I wonder if the man left the room at all. Did he sleep on his bed?

His eyes are hooded with exhaustion and his shoulders slumped. He looks at me, but doesn't move. He seems more upset than when he lost his beloved company.

"Good morning," I say, dropping my bags. "It's time to go home."

He closes his eyes like my words pain him. Then he nods and runs a hand through his messy hair.

"Right." He rises from his seat, and my determination shrinks with every step he takes. It's practically gone when he's a foot away, hovering over me. All six-foot-something of muscle, money, and stamina.

A lock of hair hangs over the center of his forehead, and I've got the strangest urge to reach out and brush it aside. Because although he's intimidating, his body calls out for me. But I don't reach out because if I touched him, the greedy man would pull me into his arms and use his charms to destroy my resolve. Make me melt in his hands. He has proved to be good at that when he made me orgasm and coated his fingers.

"For all it's worth, know that I truly love you."

I stiffen. His gaze is unwavering. I'm the first to look away, grabbing my bags and walking out of the cabin. I set my bags by the trunk and wait for him.

He appears minutes later, opening the trunk and setting both our bags inside. Then he comes around to open the passenger door, surprising me although it's not the first time he does this.

We sit in the car and he pulls out, driving away from the cabin.

The memories follow me. His hands, tongue and cock are unforgettable. If I meet another man, I don't think he could satisfy me like Hector could. It's a terrifying, embarrassing realization.

A few minutes into the drive, my lack of sleep catches up to me. I'm lulled asleep by the smooth motions of the car. When I awake a few hours later, I notice we're driving away from the fancy rich area where he lives. He's taking me to my apartment.

I watch the familiar streets through the tinted windows, realizing how much I missed them. The elaborate graffiti on buildings that I can never make out, the people on benches throwing bits of bread at birds, the warmer air.

When we park outside my building, my eyes immediately find my window. High above, shut close.

Hector's fingers are wrapped tightly around his steering wheel. "Leila..." he grinds out, unable to look at me.

"Yes?"

He shakes his head. "I'm sorry."

We sit in silence as I scan our surroundings. The air is tense between us, but I let it boil. I don't disrupt the silence until many minutes later.

"If you ever do this again, I'll be done for good. I don't care how many people you have on payroll. My life is not a game."

He looks confused, but his grip on the wheel remains tight.

"I understand you wanted me back, but you had no right to invade my privacy. This is my last warning. Next time you drive me home, I'll actually step out of the car and leave you behind forever. Now let's go."

Realization dawns. His hands release the wheel and unlock my seatbelt. He grips my waist, yanking me off and awkwardly maneuvering me across the tight space.

I straddle him, my left thigh uncomfortable as it's squeezed against the door. But the feeling is forgotten when he presses his lips against mine. Kissing me so ferociously I can't keep up.

I think he's angry at me for playing this game. For letting him drive me all the way home, letting him think it's over.

One of his hands pulls at the button of my jeans. The other slides down my back, swoops under my butt to find my sex. I make a sound of surprise, my hooded eyes glancing out the window as I keep kissing him.

The windows are tinted, but there are people outside. If they get too close, they'll see what we're doing.

His fingers press against my pussy, expertly handling me although his hand is at an odd angle. He circles and rubs, his tongue coaxing me to relax. I arch my back like the slut I am, giving his delicious fingers better access.

He dips a finger in my pussy and fucks me, quickly adding another. He squeezes my breast and I moan into his mouth, my sex gushing.

There's a loud honk as my butt accidentally presses the horn, but now that Hector is knuckle-deep into my pussy, I don't care how much attention his luxury vehicle attracts. I don't care who peers inside. A cop could show up and tap on the window and I still wouldn't stop riding his hand.

He lifts my shirt and pulls my bra cup down, revealing enough to latch onto a nipple. My pussy snares around his fingers as he sucks on my breast. I'm panting and grinding onto his fingers, the windows fogging.

He's groaning, too, like sucking on my breast is delicious. I push my breasts onto his face, taking his breath and filling his mouth with my breast. He retaliates by fucking me faster, his fingers curling and twisting, pressing the spots he learned with his cock.

I think he would need to shove his entire fist to fill me as much as his cock does.

I dip my hips, throwing my ass on his hand, making the vehicle tremble.

I look down but am unable to see his face. He's lost under my tits, still sucking my nipple and fucking me with his dripping fingers.

I make a choked sound as I come, my pussy seizing around his fingers.

His hand stops moving, but his mouth keeps sucking my breast. I practically have to wrestle him to get him to release my nipple.

As he helps me back to my seat, we both pant and struggle to catch our breath. His fingers are dripping but he makes no move to wipe them clean.