The Case of the Mesmerizing Boss by Diana Palmer

anymore.”
    His teeth caught her upper lip and nibbled at it softly as his hips lifted and pushed, lifted and pushed, in a slow, tender rhythm that made her gasp and jerk with sudden, stark pleasure.
    He watched her react to it with an excess of male pride. “You were very brave,” he whispered as he increased the pressure and rhythm, feeling her body begin to echo his slow movements. “Very, very brave. You didn’t even cry out.” “Dane?” she cried, frightened.
    “Let me pleasure you,” he whispered, bending to her mouth as the silver ripples worked up his spine. “I’ll teach you now. I’ll teach you, baby.”
    Instinctively she knew he’d never done this before, never loved anyone the way he was loving her. It was as if he, too, were a virgin all over again. She clung to him, sobbing as he’d promised she would, begging for fulfillment at the last. He gave it to her unexpectedly, completely, lifted his head and watched her convulse, and smiled through his own fierce excitement before it caught him up in its vortex and made him cry out harshly with the sheer joy of ecstasy.
    He held her for a long time afterward, drying her tears, kissing her undemandingly, soothing her torn, exhausted body. He got up
     
    76Diana Palmer and got a cold beer from the refrigerator, sharing it with her while he had a cigarette. He wasn’t thinking about tomorrow. There was only tonight, only the joy of loving, the beauty of her whispered love for him, the sweet anguish of fulfillment.
    He put the half-finished beer on the bedside table, and crushed out his cigarette. Then he eased her over onto her back and slid up beside her.
    “I’m going to take you again, now,” he whispered as he moved between her long, trembling legs. “This time, it will be very slow, very gentle. This time, you’ll feel it so intensely that you’ll cry out, as I did earlier.”
    “I…love you,” she whispered frantically, her body so perfectly attuned to his that the first hard thrust of it brought a cry of ecstasy from her parched lips. “Already?” he asked huskily, moving fiercely against her. “Now,” she groaned. “Now, now, now…!”
    He thought that never in his life had he felt such sensations. He convulsed almost immediately, feeling her body surge under him, hearing her hoarse cries as he fulfilled her once, twice, three times. He shouldn’t have been capable of this, of endless potency, of tire-less arousal. But he was. Perhaps the abstinence, or what he felt for her, or even her unexpectedly sweet sensuality triggered it. Whatever the reason, by the time he finally rolled away from her, too exhausted to even kiss her swollen mouth one last time, he was asleep before his head even reached the pillow.
    The next morning, she kissed him awake. He opened his eyes and saw her over him, saw the light in her eyes, and he groaned softly as he levered her instantly onto her back and rolled onto her body.
    “No,” she whispered quickly, blushing when he loomed over her with virile intent. ‘Tm sorry,” she said miserably. ”But it hurts….”
    He breathed slowly until he could calm his blood. His hand smoothed over her soft breast. “I took you four times,” he whispered, lifting his eyes back to hers. “I hurt you.” “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Oh, no, you didn’t hurt me.”
    He brushed his lips over hers, and then over her eyes. “But I would if we made love now?” “I’m afraid so.”
     
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    He sighed and rolled onto his back. “I should have thought about that. I’m not properly awake. Do you want some coffee?” “Yes. I’ll make it.”
    She started to get up, realized she was undressed, and pulled the sheet demurely to her breasts.
    He glanced at her, following her embarrassed gaze to his own body. He made a sound and threw his legs over the side of the bed, carelessly tugging on his briefs and jeans and socks while she watched. “You can dress while I shave,”