Work Wife by Dee Ellis

Chapter Eight

Karina  

Turns out my boss is a bit kinky—and I like it.

Bent over the bed we shared last night, my hands are again bound and my scalp stings as he pulls my hair. My ass is pink from the slaps he lands every time he pulls out of me. But when he slams back into me, he kisses up my back and tells me how good I am. His good girl. It makes me so hot I am dripping down my thighs as he fucks me. Me liking everything he does to me, liking it so much I am sticky with arousal, has kept him hard all night and he has barely stopped fucking me since we started.

“I need it, sweetheart,” he rasps in my ear as he drives into me, the bed shaking beneath the force of his thrusts, “give it to me.”

Just like I have all night, when he asks me to come, I do. It is the first time I have ever come with someone else. Somehow all I need is for him to demand it. When he touches me, when he whispers that I am his in my ear, and when he fills me, I am so close to the edge, I just need his words. This pleases him so he has spent most the night testing how much he can make me come by just telling me to.

“Kolt,” I pant as my orgasm—I lost count after eight—whirls through me like a storm.

“Christ, sweetheart, such a good girl,” he moans in my ear, the final push over the ledge into pleasure.

His big hands grip my shoulders and pin me to the bed as I shudder with my climax. I shout into the sheets we barely slept in, my body soaked with both our pleasure and the night of lovemaking. His lips whisper over my skin, praising me, telling me to let myself go and give him what is his.

“Mine,” his voice rumbles against my back as he jerks inside me, coming until it drips down my thighs, “all fucking mine!”

Kolt has growled that, shouted it, moaned it, and declared it countless times through the night. So loudly I fear the entire place heard him and so softly against my lips they are stained with it. I don’t know if he is reminding me. Or telling himself it’s really true. But we both know it’s been true from the very start—I only played as his assistant but really, I was always just his.

His big body blankets mine and he peppers my damp skin with kisses. His warmth goes away, and I start to panic before he suddenly lifts me up against him. I snuggle into his firm chest and realize I hear a shower running. When we step beneath the warm spray, I shriek, clutching at him. He laughs, the sound loud in the glass shower, making me flush as it hits me between my legs.

Last night was my first night with a man. I never thought to ask him how many women he has been with. I could not bear the thought. We talked a little between him pinning me down or bending me over, but we never got that far. I don’t know how he feels about any of this and suddenly I feel shy and silly.

“Christ you are beautiful,” he murmurs, making my eyes snap open wide.

Standing beneath the shower with his dark hair wet and his beautiful face ruddy, he could be talking about himself. His body is hard and lean, not huge like his cousins, but defined and so sexy. He rubs a hand down his chest, and I flush again. My teeth marks stain his chest, his abs, and I see the path of my nails scoring his shoulders and back. I did all that.

Watching his face, his eyes scan my body and I feel hot beneath the heated gaze. My own body is marked with similar reminders of the night we spent. With his eyes on me I do feel beautiful. I feel sexy and wanted. His eyes storm and I watch as his hand drops to wrap around his cock as it stiffens.

“Do you like what you see,” he teases as he moves towards me in the huge shower, backing me up, “I got you beneath me so fast last night I never let you see what’s yours,” he growls, reaching out to take my hand and wrap it around his shaft. Or try to wrap it around him but my fingers barely touch.

“I do,” I whisper, tipping my head back beneath the spray to stare into his eyes, “you are beautiful. And... you’re mine?”

He has said it a dozen different ways since last night, but I need to know. I need to see his eyes when he says it. When he lets me know if the fantasy we’re playing this weekend is real for him at all. It has felt real since it started but that might just be because I want it so badly. I shouldn’t want my boss, but I do.

“Oh yes, I am. Did me spending the entire night inside you fail to convince you, sweetheart?” he hums, dropping his head and moving into me. “No need to pretend this weekend.”

Relief washes through me as hot as the water pouring down on us. I melt against his firm body as he kisses me, lifting me against him. Before I can object that we’re not getting clean, he lifts me higher, putting my legs over his shoulders. He eats me to two orgasms before he drags me down his body and pushes inside me to get his own pleasure.

Before the water turns cold, he does wash me. He does it so gently I am cradled back against his chest, humming softly as his big hands wash and rinse off my body. Again, he carries me from the room, setting me wet and naked on the bed. I start to lie back, but he chuckles as he reminds me we have work to do today. I fly back up, slapping a hand over my mouth.

“Holy shit. I need to pretend to be your wife!” I shriek.

Kolt’s eyes get hot as he tugs on jeans—no boxers, I note—and he advances on me. Pressing me to the bed, he kisses at my jaw, my throat, my breasts, growling words I can’t make out. Lifting back up, he kneels in front of me. His touch turns gentle as he stares up at me, but I can’t read what is in his head.

“You get to go hang out with the ladies,” he grins, kissing my bare thigh, “Holden wants to sit down with me. I never got to tell you last night. It was the last thing I cared about. His wife adores you, so he doesn’t need to set up a meeting with me. He wants to talk business today.”

A confusing mix of relief and remorse churn through me. I want him to get his deal, it was my job this weekend to help secure it, but I don’t like how he got it. And I like his wife, Emrie, too so I hate lying to her. But also, I am upset I might not need to play his wife now. I was looking forward to getting to pretend a little longer.

“You don’t need me to....” I trail off as I flush and he sits up, pushing my thighs open.

“Oh no. Nothing changes. You keep that ring on your finger and tell anyone who asks that you are my wife. If any men see you this weekend, I want them to know you are taken. Because you are, sweetheart. Last night was not about me bedding you because you were here and were willing.”

“What does...does this mean?” I look away as frustrated tears fill my eyes, but he tugs at my chin.

“It means what I whispered every time you came for me, and every single time I filled you with my cock. You are mine, Karina. No more pretending. No more wondering what you taste like beneath those sexy skirts or how soft your tits are in my hand,” he gruffs, sliding a hand up to cup a breast, “and no more being careful at the office. No more jerking my cock after you bring me my coffee looking so good and smelling so delicious. Now, if you want, you can just suck my cock with our morning coffee,” he teases, and I flush but we both laugh because he’s being ridiculous.

“No more being careful?” I whisper as I close my legs around his ribs, tangling my hands in his thick copper hair.

“Not with me,” he gets my hint and climbs over me, pushing his jeans down again.

We do manage to get dressed before the day is over. Once we leave the room, he walks me through the upstairs a little, giving me a tour of his cousin’s estate. He says he used to come and here with them before they got married to Fallon. He wonders if we would like to come out together some time without cocktail parties and meetings in the way. When I tell him yes, he pins me to a wall and kisses me until I can barely stand.

“Come on, sweetheart. I bet the ladies are waiting for you and Holden is not a patient man I hear. Save some time for me today, I want to show you the gardens, I know you will love them,” he murmurs, pressing close and kissing me until I cling to him, not ready to let him go.

“Go close the deal, boss,” I tease, pushing at him playfully.

“Closed the one that mattered last night,” he shoots back with a sexy smirk and a swat at my backside.

Heading downstairs, I see the other ladies in the foyer. When Emrie sees me, she lights up with a smile and waves me over. They suggest we go swimming before we help Fallon set up for the barbecue this afternoon. With my body sore and marked from last night, I hesitate but they won’t take no for an answer. Fallon loops her arm through mine on one side and Emrie does the same on the other, both laughing about forcing me to have fun.

At the pool house, I see our fair hostess is ready for a party. Designer suits in all sorts of sizes, hang on racks with plush towels and robes rolled up in baskets beside wooden crates of flip flops. Clearly Fallon knows how to have fun. Picking a suit, I go bold. Because being with Kolt and these ladies, I feel bold and even beautiful.

“Holy shit. Kolt is going to kill me, but I love it,” Fallon teases me with a long whistle when I step out.

I chose a one-piece white suit that looks great on my tanned skin. Not much material makes up the suit, but the top crosses over my breasts and gathers at one shoulder. The bottom mirrors the same design, gathering at one hip, the sections looped through sparkling loops. It makes my boobs look amazing and the marks Kolt left at my thighs and chest are slowly fading but you can see them all.

“Damn your husband is uh,” Emrie casts her gaze around before she whispers to me, “rough, is he? Mine too,” she flushes pink as she admits this, giggling with Fallon.

“Mine too. And I have two of them so sometimes,” Fallon too looks around before she continues, “I swear, I need a turtleneck and scarves to hide what they do when they get hot.”

Now it’s my turn to flush. Since I never had girlfriends before I met these ladies—and have slowly grown close to Fallon since working with Kolt—I never got to talk about men. I mean, not like I had men to talk about anyway. Surely not men like Kolt. As I recall last night and all the things he did to me, I get hot all over. I understand why I always see Fallon snuggling up to one of her husbands and why Emrie gushes about her husband.

Together, we head to the huge pool where we spend the rest of the morning. We drink fruity cocktails, talk about things girlfriends talk about, and even take some photos together and with the other ladies. One shot of me by the water, looking out over the gardens makes me feel beautiful. I send it to Kolt after the ladies tease me about sending flirty shots to their husbands. He replies later as we are starting to set up for the barbecue and I know I am in trouble.

“Is this ussexting wife? If yes, show me what’s mine,” his words pop up on my phone and I swear I can hear him growling it in my ear.

I do as I am told, taking a photo in the pool on a big swan floaty. No one can see what I am doing so I prop my phone just right, spread my legs and send the shot. We already broke our rules, who cares about a naughty photo now? Not as if we are at the office sexting or fucking at his desk.

“Wife,” his voice calls and now I know I am not hearing things. There he stands, waiting with the other husbands, a salacious look on his face.

Who knew being married could be so much fun?