The Boss’s Runaway (Possessive Kingpins)

Jae kept late hours. I knew that as I liked to wait up for the sound of him returning to the apartment at night. I felt safer when he was home.

Home? Fuck, get a grip, Kat. He needs you to do a little job for him, and then you’re out of here on your ass. Don’t get comfortable. 

The voice whispering terrible things in my head was so familiar it was hard to block out. It was my brother’s voice, and I’d heard his reprimands and putdowns for as long as I could remember. It was easy to imagine what Konstantin would say. He lived inside my head.

I heard a door shutting down the hall. My eyes flew to the clock. It was midnight. I was lying in bed reading after about three hours of admiring my rapidly filling dressing room. Okay, I’ll admit it. I did it every evening. I felt like a spoiled, pampered princess, and it felt good. It would no doubt be the first and only time in my life once the things I was hiding from Jae came to light, so I intended to enjoy it.

Jae had a routine when he came home from work. He went to the kitchen, then showered for a long time. Then he sat in the living room for a while and went to bed. The man only slept about five hours a night, which couldn’t be healthy.

Tonight, I heard the soft sound of a door closing out of its usual order. The bathroom? Was he hurt? I found myself slipping through my bedroom room and peering down the hall before I could stop myself. Ok, well, I didn’t try very hard to stop myself, to be honest. I wanted to see him. He’d been out all day, and I missed his dashing face and mercurial moods.

I wandered down the hall, reaching the bathroom door. It was ajar, and light spilled down the dark hallway. The sound of water rushing drifted around the edge of the door. So, he was showering. I turned away, not wanting to be caught snooping, and my eyes came to rest on his clothes.

He had discarded his white shirt on the floor near the entrance. The red splotches against it stood out against the pale background—a spray of blood arching over the sleeve and up the collar. I gasped, instant worry forming in my gut. Was Jae hurt?

I found myself pushing closer to the door. That air in the room held a hint of fog, but I could still see him. He stood under the shower spray, completely naked and utterly delicious. He was turned away from me, giving me a million-dollar view of the long sloping lines of muscle in his strong back, disappearing into a tight ass and firm thighs. A tattoo of Asian artwork I couldn’t quite make out dominated his left shoulder, wrapping nearly across his back. The man was deity-level beautiful. Then, he turned.

His chest was cut and defined, and an eight-pack disappeared between two strong grooves, leading to a treasure trail I’d be happy to follow any day. His hands moved down his body, soaping himself, and he turned as he reached his cock. My knees wobbled as my eyes fastened to it, and I leaned against the door. It creaked—a tiny sound.

Jae’s closed eyes snapped open, and he looked right at me. Only a sliver of my face was visible through the gap in the door, and I was standing in the dark hallway. Surely, he couldn’t see me?

Whether he did or not, he didn’t seem to care. His hand was still on his dick, and my eyes followed his movement. He wasn’t washing, I realized after a moment. He was hard, and his long strokes up and down the thick length were for pleasure, not service. Wetness gathered in my lacy panties. My nipples instantly grew hard and pressed against my top. I wanted to slip inside the steamy room and offer him a hand. Tell him I’d agreed to thank him any way he wanted, and I could take over now.

Instead, I stayed still and worked a hand down the silk pajama shorts Jae had bought me. I dragged my fingers through my wetness and over the folds of my clit as I watched him. His eyes closed as his fist moved purposefully. He clearly didn’t know I was here, getting off on watching him. Was this wrong? Probably, but there was no way I was stopping now.

His strokes picked up speed as he worked his shaft. It was straining right up his belly, a delicious, wide length flushed dark red with arousal. His pace picked up as my fingers worked faster. I could come like this, leaning against the wall, watching this beautiful, powerful, but utterly private man come in his hand with no idea I was here.

He braced a hand against the glass of the shower enclosure, his hips pumping into his hand as I circled my clit, rising higher and higher.

Just as my orgasm threatened to crash over me, Jae’s eyes snapped open and landed right on me. The connection as our eyes met pierced me to my soul.

He came in long, hard pulses. Jets of white splashed the glass and ran down to the tiles while his eyes remained fixed on me the entire time. I followed him, contracting around my hand, my pussy clenching emptily as my clit sent a burst of pleasure through my entire body. I knew he was watching me as I writhed against the wall, and somehow, that only made it hotter.

As soon as I could pull myself together, I ripped my hand from my shorts, turned, and hightailed it back to my room. I couldn’t meet his eyes without dying of embarrassment. I jumped into my bed and put the pillow over my face.

Jesus Christ, what the hell had just happened?