Free Beneath the Boss: Omnibus (The Complete Collection) by Lydia Rowan

her hands on his chest.
    “Well, I do,” she said, running her hands down his chest before resting them on his belt. “It’s so sturdy, powerful.”
    “Is it now?”
    “Um-hmm,” she said, as she slid down to rest on her knees between his thighs. “It makes me imagine the man who sits behind it, being on my knees before him ready to serve.”
    She traced the ridge of his cock through his pants as she looked up at him, his gray gaze so hot it almost felt like a physical touch. His scorching look ignited an explosion in her belly, propelled her to action.  She rubbed the smooth, supple leather of his belt with the tips of her fingers, letting the heel of her hand rest against his crotch. Leighton squirmed in his chair, tilted his hips to increase the contact.
    “And how would you serve him?” he asked, the strain in his voice as arousing as his heated gaze.
    “First, I’d open my shirt.” She leaned back and slowly unbuttoned her shirt.
    “You wouldn’t take it off?”
    She shook her head. “I know he likes the way the I look with my shirt open, bra exposed so he can make out the points of my nipples through the fabric, see the way my breasts spill out of the cups, barely contained.”
    She could see Leighton’s cock twitch as she said the words.
    “Then?” he asked, strain still evident in his voice and in the way he gripped the arms of his chair. The action made Layla appreciate how difficult this was for Leighton. He usually took control, was the one who had her on the edge, and she enjoyed the prospect of returning even a small taste of the pleasure he gave.
    “Why, then I’d lean forward, kiss his cock through the fabric of his pants, revel in the heat and hardness of him, the faint scent that could be cologne but that I know is just him.”
    She did just that when she finished speaking, loving the feel of the hard ridge of his erection beneath her lips, inhaling deeply to get more of his intoxicating scent.
    She leaned back a fraction, her actions now mimicking her words. “Then I’d open his pants and lower his zipper. Slowly, carefully, because the anticipation makes me so wet, so desperate, and I want to draw it out. And the man who sits behind this desk expects the best, so rushing just won’t do.”
    Leighton moaned as she completed her task, the bulge of his cock now lovingly framed by his pants, the barest hint of his cockhead visible through his underwear.
    “I’d slide his pants down and then guide his boxer briefs over his cock, relieved, and humbled, when it is finally free.”
    And she was. She’d seen him before, had him in her mouth, but he still took her breath away. The sight of his cock, thick and heavily veined and at the moment flushed deep red, never failed to amaze her. She went still for a moment, and silence reigned briefly before she reached up and encircled him with her fingers, the rough brush of the tuft of hair at his base against her hand sending pinpricks of desire directly to her core.
    She continued, “Then I’d stroke him, take in the contrast of the velvet-soft skin over the steel of his erection.”
    She did, and he moaned, the sound low in his throat and a clear indication of his deteriorating restraint. She decided to give him a reprieve when a single drop of precum, followed by another, then another, leaked out of the mushroomed tip of his cock.
    “And then I lick precum from his tip, shivering when the salty flavor hits my taste buds, run my tongue over his slit and spread the moisture around his cockhead until it glistened. Once I had him wet and almost panting, I’d take him into my mouth, my throat, as deep as I could.”
    And she did.
    Layla raised slightly and lowered her mouth over Leighton’s cock, working her tongue up and down as she went. She paused for a moment when tip of Leighton’s cock hit the tender flesh at the back of her throat, but then went on, sealing her lips around his cock and latching her hands around the base. Layla put