Page 83 of Wild Love
She attempts to squeeze her legs together, but all it does is clamp me more tightly in place.
I don’t stop touching her. Can’t peel my eyes off the way my hands look gripping her thighs.
“One who’s been driving me crazy. Wincing all morning like she’s in pain.”
All Rosie does is pant and watch me move my hands over her. Up the sides of her thighs.
I dip the tips of my fingers under the line of the shorts, not far enough to go anywhere. Just far enough to tease.
She whimpers.
I already know I’m planning to tear down whatever wall I tried to build between us just to get to her. Keeping mydistance is downright excruciating, and thinking I can keep up with it is borderline delusional.
“Should I help you feel better, Rosie?” I growl out the words, frustration lacing each one. My thumbs brush up her inner thighs, painfully close to her pussy.
I shake my head at my utter lack of restraint.
“I told myself I was going to stay the hell away from you. But here I am, making you spread your legs for me on my desk and dreaming about fucking you senseless.”
I thought I’d rendered her speechless, but now she rises up on her elbows and volleys back. “Might be hard to fuck me senseless considering you still haven’t figured out where my clit is.”
Now my eyes are on hers, reading the heat in them. The dare in them.
“Is that what you think?” I feel my body shift, rising to her taunt. My eyes narrow. My skin hums. I love that Rosie Belmont is a constant challenge.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you think it’s in my thighs somewhere. Maybe I really should have helped you out all those years ago.”
I smirk and pull the pen from behind my ear, eyes latched on her center. “Let’s see what I can come up with.”
I drop back down into my chair and roll myself between her legs. Using my teeth, I tug the cap from the pen and lean closer. Rosie pants as I splay a palm over her stomach, but when I peek up, her eyes are shiny and bright. Lips parted in anticipation.
So, I carry on.
I hold the pen in my right hand and make my first stroke.
One downward line, diagonal, across her underwear.
“Oh god,” she mutters, hips bucking.
I know I crossed her clit based on her reaction.
“Stay still, Rosie. I’d hate to fail this test.”
I clamp my tongue between my lips and cross my first line with an upward one. I hear her hum, feel her legs shake as she struggles to stay still. Then I lean back to look at my handiwork.
When she glances down at herself, I hear a muttered, “Fuck,” between her heavy breaths. A blue X is drawn over the pristine white fabric.
“X marks the spot,” I grumble, both hands holding her thighs open.
“Yeah.”
“You’re soaking through your panties, Rosie,” I say, flipping my pen around and dragging the dull, rounded tip of it up the line of her inner thigh.
“I know, I know.” Her voice is breathy as I approach the seam of her underwear.
“Does that mean I got it right?” I take another peek at her flushed face, but all I see are green lights, the all-clear to keep going. “Tell me to stop, Rosie.”
“Please don’t stop, Ford,” is her response. Because of course she has to drive me fucking crazy at every turn.
