CHAPTER EIGHT

Every moment of every interaction with Wyn is a dance—one step forward, two steps back—but I'm not letting her twirl away from me this time.

"Wynona Archer, stop hiding. Whatever battle you're waging isn't against me because I don't want to fight against you—I want to fight with you. For you. Stop shutting me out like you do everyone else. Please, let me in."

She laughs, the sound tinged with desperation.

"You want me to "let you in", tell you my secrets? Bash, you couldn't handle them."

Her nonchalant dismissal enrages me. "Try me—or are you too scared?"

"I'm petrified."

Wyn's admission gives me pause. I expected her to shout her denial, accuse me of insulting her character, but never agree with me.

Whatever she's harboring inside, it's big, and she's scared to death of what I'll think of her if she tells me.

"I know you're afraid, but open up to me. I promise if you fall, I'll catch you."

"But what if you're the reason I get tossed from the ledge?"

My heart constricts in my chest. "Do you have so little faith in me or think that I dislike you so? I would think after the kisses we shared, you would know…"

"Know what?"

"That I worship you—you're the epitome of feminine grace and beauty to me."

She cracks a smile, a real one, but it's laced with so much sadness that I can't savor the sight. "Feminine grace and beauty, huh? And what if I told you that I have a cock?"

English isn't my first language, but I speak it more than Bugge these days. Even still, there are times when my employees say something that I'm unfamiliar with, so it takes me a moment to really grasp Wyn's meaning.

I cup her cheeks. "So?"

She blinks, confusion stamped over her lovely features. "Bash, didn't you hear—"

"Yes, I heard you, and it doesn't change a single thing about how I feel about you." Her lips form a perfect ‘O' of shock, and my heart squeezes even harder. "Wyn, do you want me?"

The world stands still while I wait for her answer, I expect her to deny it, but my girl is the bravest I've ever known.

"I do."

"And I want you, so with your permission, can I keep kissing you?"

For a moment, Wyn just stares at me, and then the most magical thing happens—she closes her eyes and lets out a loud, booming laugh that echoes all around us.

Her entire face lights up, and I've never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life. I drink in the sight, committing it to memory.

It's the smile I've been dreaming of times a million, and I bask in the happiness she exudes. The first taste of it is like sunshine on my tongue, filling me with her essence.

Instead of answering me, Wyn draws my head back down until our foreheads touch, and then she kisses me.

It's different than before—fierier and unbridled—as if she's trying to consume a piece of me inside of her instead of the other way around.

My tarse hardens, and I rub against her like a giant cat, purring in contentment until Wyn freezes. She stares up at me, her brow furrowed.

"What's wrong, deoring?"

"Deoring?"

"It means ‘dear one' in Bugge, the language of my people."

Another soft smile curls the corners of her lips, and if I died right now, it would be as a very happy monster.

"How are you so sweet?"

"Do you mean because I'm a Boggart?"

Wyn snorts, the sound so her. "No, I mean because most people—humans—seem to be full of acid and hate."

"Well, my kind isn't exactly known for being the personification of compassion. Now tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, per se. When you rubbed against me, I felt your…"

"Tarse?"

"What?"

"That's the Bugge word for ‘cock'."

"Ah. Yes, I felt your tarse, and…"

"It made you uncomfortable?"

"No. It started to make me hard. It's been a while since the hormones I take usually keep me soft."

"Does this bother you?"

"I'm more surprised than anything, but then again, this is nothing like I've fantasized about."

An enormous grin splits my face at this. "You fantasize about me?"

Wyn blushes. "Maybe."

"Naughty girl. Do you want your boss to touch you until you come?"

She whimpers, and I lose my fucking mind. It doesn't matter where we are or that HR would have a damn heart attack if they knew.

All that matters is that Wyn wants me as much as I want her.

"Can I touch you, deoring?"

"Yes, please, I'm begging you."

"Mmm, I like it when you beg."

I sink to my knees until I'm eye level with Wyn's chest. Quickly popping the buttons of her navy blouse, I reveal a turquoise, lace bra.

Never in my wildest fantasies did I expect Wyn Archer to wear such seductive undergarments. She's so prim and proper on the outside, but only a fool judges a book by its cover.

"Fuck, you're stunning," I breathe into the deep V of her cleavage.

She shudders and inhales, the action pushing my face even further into the fragrant valley of her breasts, and I can't help but flick my tongue out for a taste.

Wyn moans when I nip at the tender flesh that swells just above the lace of her bra, and I shove the fabric aside to reveal a dusky pink nipple.

My mouth waters, but I glance up at the woman who's brought me to my knees. "May I?"

With a mute nod, she consents, and I waste no time licking the tip until it's hard and glistening from my saliva—then I do the same to the other.

I keep my ears perked in case anyone does decide to use the stairs. It's difficult with my attention wholly focused on the perfection of the woman before me, but I won't allow anyone to view us.

Not because I'm the boss and she's my employee, but because Wyn is mine—and no one can see her like this but me.

After a small eternity of feasting on her breasts, I pause to stare into her glazed eyes. Her dark brown gaze is slightly unfocused, and she has a dazzling, dreamy expression painting her face.

"May I touch…more?"

"More?"

"Down here."

I gesture to the juncture of her thighs, unsure of her comfort level.

"Mmm, yes, please."

Wyn practically pants the words, and a spurt of precum shoots from my tarse at the raw need suffused in her voice.

"What do you like—how can I make you feel good?"

"It takes me a while to come, but I like to stroke my clit—that's what I prefer to call my cock—while muffing."

"We're not in a rush, deoring. My goal isn't to just make you come—it's to make you see stars. Now, what is muffing? I'm unfamiliar with this term."

"So I'm not sure about Boggart anatomy, but for me, I have two canals that each of my balls descends from. If I push upward, I can finger one of my inguinal cunts while rubbing my clit."

"Fascinating. The human body is a wonder to me—and yours is my obsession. Will you show me how to do it?"

"Here?!"

"I have excellent hearing, Wyn. If anyone is close, I will know. Do you trust me?"

She stares, naked desire etched into her features. "Yes, Bash, I do."

"Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me. Now, be a good girl, and take off your pants."

Wyn hesitates for a split second before complying. She unbuttons her slacks, slowly drawing them down her long, silky legs just to drive me wild.

Underneath, a matching lace thong covers her, and I place a kiss on the sexy, little bow that sits in the middle, reminding me of a wrapped present that I can't wait to open.

Her hands shake as Wyn goes to push the fabric over her hips, but I still her trembling fingers with my own.

"We don't have to do this. If I'm moving too fast, tell me."

"You're not. I want this. It's just been a while since I've been with someone as a woman."

"This is new for both of us because this is our first time together. We're both learning and discovering. Nothing is wrong and off-limits to feel or touch unless we—you—say otherwise. Show me how to make it feel good for you."

With a nod, she shoves her panties out of the way, and I bury my face between her legs, taking in her scent until it's part of my own.

I want to be covered in this woman from head to toe so the whole world knows that I belong to her and vice versa.

"What now?" Wyn whispers when I nip her inner thigh.

A wicked smirk tugs at my lips.

Now I make you mine.