Boss: Complete Box Set: A Mob BDSM Romance Read Online Free PDF

body so I can devour the entire image.
    His expression is impassive if not a little bored. His eyes flick over me and a smirk pulls one corner of his mouth. I let out my breath at the gesture. So he’s acknowledging me. Sort of.
    “Hi,” I say when he remains silent.
    “Good evening, Ms. Lundgren.” His tone is a little breathy. It raises gooseflesh on my skin and I find myself leaning into him, just to get closer to the source of my excitement.
    But then I remember that this isn’t a date, and I have no damn good reason for snugging up to him like a desperate cat. I have no idea what he thinks this is. I’m here on his terms and I’m not supposed to question it.
    “Erica,” I say quietly. “My first name is Erica.”
    “I know.” He looks amused now.
    “You wouldn’t call your date Ms. Lundgren. Unless, of course, this is completely business, in which case you would.”
    He threads his long fingers together. “Correct.”
    So it actually is a job? But what kind of job requires an employee and not an actual date? Frustrated by my lack of progress, I adjust my place on the seat to keep a good amount of distance between us. He’s watching me with a clear dose of heat in his eyes. A tiny shiver wrenches through me.
    Determined to focus on the topic, I tip up my chin and slide my hair over my shoulder.
    “How shall I address you tonight, then?”
    “With respect.” His tone is tight, but his features are soft and I have the sudden impression that he’s playing with me. Time to get right to the point.
    “I won’t date my boss.”
    “This isn’t a date, Erica.” My name. He flicks up one eyebrow, challenging me … teasing me. The hunger in his eyes says there’s more to it as well. I want to find out, but first, I want to smack him upside the head for leading me down a rabbit hole.
    “You’re accompanying me to a business function. That’s all. Dinner. Drinks. Socializing. And then you go home.”
    Alone? The word almost falls out of my mouth, but I catch it at the last minute. For some reason, the play-out of this fairy tale in my mind includes Mr. Masters fucking me hard against a wall in his penthouse. My nipples perk at the image and I move my arms to cover them. It’s not graceful, but letting him see my peaked breasts through the thin satin of my dress is worse.
    I can’t recall the last time a man affected me physically like this. Passion, I’ve experienced. But I swear the pulsing need between my legs hasn’t stopped since yesterday. My body feels almost feverish, my skin over-sensitive. I’m walking an edge that falls only one way. This isn’t passion. This is unadulterated lust.
    And it’s getting stronger.
    I tear my gaze from his to try and get control of my thoughts. Suddenly, he touches my arm, pulling it away from my chest … and then the other. His eyes drop to my breasts, his hands holding my arms away so I can’t cover myself again. Not that I want to. Satisfaction seeps through my nervousness as he wets his lips with his tongue and pulls in a tight breath.
    He moves closer, his breath hot against my cleavage. I go completely still, my pulse beating in my ears as heat from his body electrifies my skin. I want him to kiss me, right between my breasts … run his tongue between the mounds of flesh, ripping my dress aside so he can take my nipples deep into his mouth.
    I arch into him as a small whimper escapes me. He brings my arms above my head and holds my wrists in one hand. My breasts push together and I’m silently begging for him to run a finger down my chest, to cup my breast, to touch me any way at all just as long as he does it.
    “Mr. Masters, we’ve arrived.”
    I jerk at the unexpected voice through the intercom on the partition. He startles a bit too, pulling away from me like he’d been in a daze. With a small shake of his head, he releases me and rights himself against the seat. I scramble to get control of my breathing as the limo comes to a stop.
    It’s