Page 113 of Wild Love
“Touching you.”
His lips curve up in a sinful smile. “I thought we were being professional.”
“Right,” I whisper. “It’s just that I thought about it and decided being professional is overrated. I want you to touch me too.”
For only a moment, I’m taken back to that day in the boardroom. I told Stan that if I wanted him to touch me, I’d tell him.
Ford may be my boss on paper, but nothing about our relationship is reminiscent ofthat. Nothing between us is dirty—not in that way. Nothing about usneedsto be a secret if neither of us wants it to be.
A raspy chuckle spills from him as his green eyes open and dive into my own. Chills erupt from the back of my neck, racing down my spine and over my arms.
“And you kept all your clothes on earlier, which felt distinctly unfair to me. So, I came looking for you.”
“And you found me.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I nod.
“So what now?” he asks from beneath a quirked brow. “I don’t know.” I suddenly feel nervous. I snuck up here with no plan, only knowing I wanted to be close to him. “Do you want me to leave?”
He stares at me extra hard now. It’s borderline unnerving. The weight of his stare. The way my stomach flip-flops under his attention. I’ve never felt this way before.
“No, Rosie. I want you up here.” His voice is soft and deep as he reaches for me. Broad hands circle my waist and I squeal as he hauls me on to him, so I’m straddling his torso.
“Gonna need you to be quiet, baby,” he murmurs as his palms slide up over my quads, tips of his fingers dipping inside my underwear at my hips.
All I can do is nod, lick my lips, and watch how good his hands look roaming over my body.
“N-now what?” I practically stutter.
“Now you’re going to hold on tight to that headboard, sit on my face, and try to keep your mouth shut while I make you come.”
Before I can respond, he’s moved me up, yanked the gusset of my panties to the side, and has his tongue in my pussy.
I gasp and fall forward, holding the headboard like he instructed, more out of needing something to hold on to than because I’m good at following directions.
My head falls back when his teeth graze my clit. He palms my ass and holds me close, like he’s eating his favorite fruit. His eagerness does nothing but drive me even more wild.
“Hmmm,” I hum, trying to cover for the string of expletives currently sitting on the tip of my tongue. My thighs shake with the strain of holding myself over him and his fingers dig in hard.
He pulls away, only to grumble at me in that deep tone.
“Rosie. I said be quiet. And stop being polite. I told you to sit on my face.” The hand gripping my underwear yanks me down hard so that I’m fully seated.
He sucks my clit and my body bows into him. His hand slides up from my ass, over my hip, stomach, andup to my breast, where he gently caresses me. Holds me.Touchesme.
He gives my nipple a good, firm twist that has me gasping and grinding against his mouth. All the response I get is a deep satisfied growl against my core as he continues to lick, and suck, and tease.
I ride him shamelessly. He told me to stop being polite, and so I do. I lose myself in the sensation, the feel of his skin on mine. The smell of him wrapped around me.
There’s something empowering in asking for what I want. To be touched when I want. And I’m drunk on that— drunk on him—when everything inside me clenches. When that pressure builds so quickly, so intensely, I can’t hold back… I shatter.
I feel like I blow apart into a million little pieces. My skin is hot, my eyelids feel heavy. And as much as I try to stay quiet, I can’t.
His hand shoots up over my mouth and I slump into it, using his arm to prop me up while I cling to the headboard.
“Ford,” I whisper as he moves me down. His limbs are moving and there’s fabric rustling around me, but I’m too incoherent to keep up. “Ford.”
“Rosie, baby. I told you to stay quiet.”
