Page 34 of Ms. Fortune
Half of the staff decided to stay at the property and rent the space above the garage. It was a sweet deal since I’d paid them all a hefty severance package.
Instead of taking out a loan against the property, Risky floated me the funds, telling me it was an investment. I’d long ago guessed he wasn’t a flannel-and-jeans guy in the real world, but I’d never expected him to be an unlimited-cash-flow guy. Between the new truck, the lawyer, and the advance, he’d spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on me without batting an eye.
I’d never been so deeply indebted to anyone. On multiple levels.
It shifted the power dynamic between us. And even though he still called me boss lady, it was obvious he was now the captain of the ship I’d run aground.
The snow crunched under my feet as I walked toward the last cabin. It was the only one with the lights on. I hadn’t bothered to grab a coat since I knew it wouldn’t stay on for long. The cold wrapped around my body and chilled me to the bone. I took a swig from the open wine bottle in my hand and shivered. It was lightly snowing, the flakes catching on my eyelashes and settling in my hair.
Under different circumstances, I would’ve loved the mood and the setting, but all I could feel was frozen.
I didn’t need to knock on the cabin door. Risky opened it the second I stepped into the soft yellow light that illuminated the icy ground.
I gazed at him through blurry eyes, realizing I might be a touch tipsy when I couldn’t look away from the tight designer boxer briefs he was wearing. I was right all along. Under the faded denim was Versace. His hair was wet, and he smelled like he’d just stepped out of the shower. He was effortlessly seductive and overwhelmingly sexy.
Declan Risk was far out of my league. I was lucky; Risky wasn’t. I didn’t know what had brought him down to my lowly level, but I would be forever grateful he’d changed course in his life and ended up on my mountain.
I gave him what was hopefully an alluring smile and asked, “Do you want to tell me I’m a good girl again? This time, you can do it when I have your dick in my mouth.”
His eyebrows shot up as he reached for the wine bottle. “Are you drunk?”
I made a pinching gesture, leaving a tiny space between my thumb and index finger. “A bit.”
He pulled me inside the cabin and turned to set the bottle down. I appreciated that he hadn’t asked why I had come to him instead of waiting for him in my apartment in the lodge. I also enjoyed that he didn’t fight me when I reached out to pull him around so I could put a hand on the center of his broad chest and push him in the direction of the bed. I understood he wasn’t a man who was easily moved by others. The fact that he went where I wanted him to with no resistance made my heart do somersaults in my chest.
I dropped my head to kiss him, wrapping an arm loosely around his neck. His facial hair was damp and cool against my skin. He tasted fresh and clean, a far cry from my boozy breath. I felt like I might corrupt him with my sadness and vices, but his hands went to my waist and pulled me closer. Since the only thing he was wearing was his underwear, the evidence of his arousal was clear as day.
I thought I was leading and he was going to follow, but his tongue didn’t remain passive for longer than a second. It slid against mine as he pulled me onto the bed, my knees resting on the outside of his muscular thighs. His hands moved to my ass and grabbed a handful as our breath mingled, and his teeth clung to my lower lip. There was a bite and an edge to all of hismovements, and I loved it. The sting made my body come alive and forced me to face my mounting desires.
There would never be a chance to pretend we had fallen into bed together. Risky always made it known he was the one holding and touching me. He was the one with my taste on his tongue. I couldn’t slip into the illusion that he was merely my current option for sexual relief. No. The way he handled me let it be known he was myonly option,period.
Risky used his hold to change our positions. I lay on my back, looking up at his heated eyes. He brushed my hair out of my face and used the tip of his finger to trace over my prominent eyebrows.
“I think we need to wait until you’re sober for me to call you a good girl while my dick is in your mouth. Nothing kills the mood faster than the idea of you throwing up all over my cock.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not that drunk.”
I wasn’t. The wine just made my melancholy mood more evident.
He kissed my forehead. The point of my nose. The curve of my chin. And then he flicked his tongue along the line of my jaw until he reached my ear. “Still, I think you need someone to take care of you right now.”
Who was I to argue with that?
If I lacked anything in my life, aside from luck, it was the care of another person with zero expectations in return.
He didn’t even suggest I return the favor at a later date. He simply kissed me until I couldn’t breathe, then stripped my still-chilly clothing off and dropped to his knees between my bare legs that were hanging over the edge of the bed. I closed my eyes when he put the bend of my knee over his shoulder, and I felt the scrape of his beard against the sensitive skin on the inside of my thigh. The sensation had my toes curling in anticipation.
Risky didn’t keep me waiting. I felt his warm breath drift over my center. My body clenched, and my tummy fluttered. He used the tip of his tongue to trace the heated slit and across my clit. His thumb pressed against my opening, dipping inside the entrance and stroking along the slick folds. My heels dug into his back, and my hands curled around my breasts. My fingers reflexively stroked over my aching, pebbled nipples. I tossed my head to the side while biting down on my lower lip as his mouth worked my pussy until everything felt hot and wet.
I’d never heard the sounds I was making come out of my mouth before, but each gasp had Risky nipping at my clit and pushing his tongue deeper inside of me. I sounded hungry. Fortunately, Risky ate me like he was starving.
It wasn’t the first time I’d had his mouth all over me since we’d started hooking up. But it was the only time I felt like he was trying to do what he’d told me earlier—he was taking care of me. He let my body ask for what it wanted, and he happily obliged. If I quivered when he scraped his teeth over my clit, he did it until I begged him to stop. If I quaked when he fucked me with his tongue, like a sensual promise of what was still to come, he drove me to the edge of an orgasm over and over again. If I screamed his name when he backed off right before I was about to come, he tormented me repeatedly with a smile on his face. I used the leverage I had on his back to urge him closer. With the way my back arched and my hips moved, he probably felt like I was trying to suffocate him with my pleasure.
Eventually, I couldn’t take the teasing and taunting any longer. I grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged until he moved back and our eyes locked.
“Make me come.” I didn’t care if he used his cock or his mouth, but one way or another, I needed him to shove me over the edge he’d kept me clinging to.
Risky chuckled and turned his head so he could bite the inside of my thigh. He used enough force that I knew there was gonna be a mark that lingered for a few days.
