Page 103 of Wild Love
I push the head of my cock into her, and we both groan. I pull back out and her chin tips forward on a desperate whimper.
“More.”
“You’re awfully eager for my cock, considering how much you hate me. Aren’t you, Rosie?”
I press my lips down on my tongue as I swipe myself through her wetness again, waiting for her to retaliate for that comment.
And she does.
She bites down hard on my fingers, but I don’t remove them. I dig the fingers of my other hand into her hip and thrust forward, impaling her on my full length.
“Oh god,” she moans, and I watch her fingers curl against the desk.
“Should I stop?” I grit out, trying to get myself under control.
“Mmm,” she hums around my fingers. Her bite transforms into a firm suck.
My breathing goes ragged when I look down and see myself inside her. When I feel her clenching around me. “So fucking tight.”
I want to touch her. Feel her.
I remove my fingers from her mouth with a wet popping sound and press between her shoulder blades, pushing her lower as I lift her hips.
My eyes follow the motion as I draw out and slide myself back in.
“Ford,” she murmurs, and her eyes flutter shut from where she’s laid out flush against the desktop.
“Should I stop?”
“Don’t you dare.”
I thrust again, hand roaming. Her back. Her hair. My fingers link with hers.
I grip her ass, I pull her hair, I fuck her like I hate her even though I don’t.
“Is this what you needed, Rosie? Someone to fill this tight little cunt? Fuck all the fight right out of you?” My words come out choppy, breathless, as I pound into her. The desk scrapes the floors as we push it forward. “You going to settle down once I make you come on my cock?”
Her ass shakes with the force of my thrusts, and she chuckles. “You going to stop following me around like a sad puppy once you finish flopping around back there?”
I slap her ass and watch a handprint bloom on her pale skin. The hint of a tan line from last summer just beside my mark. She moans and rolls her forehead against the desk. I grunt on a forward thrust, getting off on the way she squirms. Loving the way she bites back. “That was mean, Rosie. And no. You’re stuck with me. Give me all that bitchy attitude. It just makes me love you more.”
The words slip out before I can stop them. They hang between us, heavy—an elephant in the room. I slow my motions as silence descends between us.
She finally lifts her head and looks back at me over her shoulder. Eyes glazed, cheeks glowing. I expect her to hear my words and run away. To move us back into familiar territory. Put us back on even footing.
But her voice comes out hushed when she says, “Okay, now I want you to flip me over and fuck me like you love me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
ROSIE
I don’t knowwhy I expected my request to be met with a laugh or a smirk or an eye roll. That’s how Ford and I operate—that’s us. Being honest? Beingnice? It’s new and uncharted, and I don’t know what to make of it.
But he does.
He doesn’t miss a beat, helping me to my feet and turning me to him. His chest is hard against mine, his hands are gentle on my cheeks, and he kisses me like he can’t get enough. It feels like he wants to be touching me everywhere he can.
Kissing. Stroking. Undressing me. He whispers my name against my skin like a prayer, and before I know it, I’m naked, seated on the desk, and he’s dropping to his knees before me.
