A NIGHT WITH MY BOSS のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

Jessica smirks. "Let’s just say he’s a CEO with a very large... ego. And an even larger bank account. He thinks he’s bought a front-row seat to the show, but I’m going to make him work for every single inch.""Girl, if he’s paying for the dress and the dinner, you better give him a show," Anna laughs, checking the door to make sure her HR boss isn't listening. "He’s a piece of work, Anna. Arrogant, persistent, and has a physique that should be illegal. He sent a courier with this dress and a set of emeralds like he’s buying a goddamn prize pony.”Anna gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. "Jess, I’ve been trying to set you up for months and you shoot every guy down because their 'vibe' is off. Now you’re going out with a guy who sends jewelry before the first drink? Is he the one? Are you finally breaking the streak?”"Not yet. I’m going to make him wait," Jessica smirks, her eyes glinting with mischief. "He thinks he’s already won. He’s probably told his friends he’s got me in the b

His hand slides down to the swell of her breast and she moans softly, then shoves him back with a single, manicured finger against his chest like she's got something up her sleeve. While he’s gasping for air, eyes dark and blown out with lust, she reaches down her spread legs, hand disappearing under the hem of her dress. She pushes past her panties and digs two fingers deep into her soaked cunt, swirling them in her own cream until they’re glistening with her thick, musky juice.‎She pulls them out and shoves them directly into Matt’s mouth."Taste that," she breathes, eyes locked onto his. "That’s how I taste. Let that be the memory of the pussy you never had, Kingston. Let it haunt you."Matt doesn't pull away. He sucks her fingers, his tongue tracing the salt and sweetness of her, eyes darkening to a near-black as he licks every drop of her juice.Then he grabs her wrist. "I’ll have you, Jessica," his voice a promise of total destruction. "I’ll have you on your back, and I’ll mak

He catches Matt’s eye for a split second, totally unbothered. "Well, Matt. It sounds like Mrs. Sterling is a woman who knows exactly what she wants and we’re men who pride ourselves on delivering results."‎Troy Montgomery is the Smooth Operator of the duo, the one who handles the PR while Matt handles the executions.He is a golden-tongued viper in a charcoal-grey suit with eyes the color of cold bourbon, and sun-kissed honey brown hair that’s perfectly coiffed but just messy enough to suggest he treats every sexual demand like a high-stakes poker game, and if the price of the Southbank contract is a few hours of "throne room service," he’s already checking his watch to see how long it’ll take to close the deal.He isn't as sculpted as Matt, but he’s lean, and got a dimple on his left cheek that he uses like a weapon to charm women to split their secrets, and apparently 68-year-old empresses, to see what’s underneath his zipper.‎But Matt’s jaw is locked, masking an immediate disgu

The sound of her desperate voice only makes their dicks more rigid. For Troy, being the specimen of a billionaire’s hunger is validation.For Matt, it’s a biological reaction to the hunt; the more she craves him, the more his body prepares to dominate her.He doesn't acknowledge the compliment. He just looks down at his own rigid length, then back at her with a gaze that promises absolutely no mercy.She raises her gown up past her hips, exposing her pale, wrinkly thighs, and pours a stream of red wine directly onto her skin. The liquid pools in the creases of her lap, dark and sticky.‎‎She gestures for Matt to get on his knees and start cleaning. "Come please the queen." ‎‎But Matt isn't having it. Instead of dropping down like a servant, he strides toward her and snatches the glass of wine from her jeweled hand.He drains it in one aggressive swallow, pours himself another, downs it like it’s water, and sets the crystal down with a sharp clack.‎‎"I'm in charge here, Genevieve

The sun is barely up over Chelsea, but Jessica is already out there turning the sidewalk into her own personal runway. ‎‎She’s wearing a pair of compression shorts so tight they might as well be painted on, hugging the curves of her ass and leaving nothing to the imagination. The material highlights the plump, tantalizing mound of her pussy, tracing every contour of her cameltoe with insolent clarity, – middle finger to anyone who thinks they can look without wanting. A white racerback tank top clings to her damp skin, showing off the fact that she’s ditched the bra, her nipples hardened by the cool breeze and the adrenaline of the workout.Her blonde hair is pulled back in a high, bouncy ponytail that whips side to side, like a golden pendulum, keeping time with the thirst she’s creating in her wake. ‎As she rounds the corner near the park, the neighborhood practically grinds to a halt. A man washing his car drops his sponge, staring with his mouth open as the curve of her ass v