Free The Boss' Surrender (Callahan's Secretary) by Seraphina Donavan Page B

would never trust him with the power to hurt her until she was certain she had the same power over him. 
                  Tugging his sweater up and over his head, he dropped it to the floor, before kicking off his shoes and joining her on the bed.  Each touch, the circling of his fingertips on her bare skin, was featherlight.  With his mouth, he traced the same path, gentle kisses and the damp pressure of his tongue against her skin.   Her nipples puckered in the lace cups, thrusting up impudently, but he resisted the temptation.  When his hands reached her thighs, he increased the pressure slightly, massaging muscles that he knew were tight, as much from their activities the night before as from the ridiculous heels she had taken to wearing.  It was the one outward sign of Grace’s sensual liberation.  She’d sacrificed her sensible shoes and had begun to wear stilettos, even at work.  They made her the perfect height, so that he could walk behind her and slide his cock right between her thighs, where it nudged against the damp slit of her pussy. 
                  Thinking of that was not allowing him to sustain his control, so instead he focused on the task at hand, soothing her aching muscles while creating a new ache in her, one that could only assuaged by him.  “Turn over,” he said.  Obediently, Grace did as he asked, turning onto her stomach.  The lace was cut low in back, and he deftly unfastened the hooks holding it in place, before unsnapping her garters.  Turning her onto her back again, he divested her of the bustier and garters entirely, until only the sheer, lace underwear and sheer stockings remained.  Moving to the end of the bed, he lifted her right foot and began to knead gently, his thumb digging into the muscles and then working over her ankle, up her calf, until he reached the top of her stocking and rolled it down.  He repeated the process on the other leg. 
                  He didn’t often get Grace completely naked, especially in the bright light of day.  Occasionally, her shyness would still rear its ugly head, but she wasn’t protesting.  With every touch, she seemed to relax more.  Were it not for the flush covering her breasts and that her nipples had pebbled into hardened buds, he would have thought she was falling asleep on him.  Kneeling between her thighs, he decided it was time to take up the heat.  Pressing his face against her mound, he inhaled deeply, savoring the musky scent of her desire.  He closed his mouth over her, sucking the damp swollen lips of her sex into his mouth, before plunging his tongue between them.  He found her clit unerringly, working it deftly.  When she gasped and speared her hands into his hair, holding him in place, he increased the pressure, lifting her legs so that her thighs draped over his shoulder.  Pressing more deeply inside her, he continued to tease and torment that little bundle of nerves. 
                  “Please, Anthony... I need you!”
                  Pulling his mouth away from her with one last, lingering lick that had her crying out, he moved up, until he could kiss her lips, sharing the taste of her.  “Taste how sweet you are, Grace,” he urged, dipping his tongue into her mouth.  “The taste of you drives me wild.”  She kissed him back eagerly and he cupped her breasts, kneading the soft mounds with a gentle touch.  His thumbs coasted over her nipples, thrumming the hardened peaks until she was moaning beneath him.  The silky skin of her inner thighs glided over his hips as she wrapped her legs around him, opening herself to him.  There was no clearer invitation.  He pressed his cock against her, nudging the thick head between her damp folds, feeling her clinch around him.  She was so blissfully, perfectly tight as he pressed into her, gliding in inch by inch.  Her nails dug into his shoulders, scoring his back as she arched against him,