Wild Love (Rose Hill, #1)(62)

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 my distance 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.

Without another thought, the pen dips under the fabric. It’s barely a touch. I graze her pussy carefully, as though it’s somehow breaking fewer rules than if I were to hook a finger into her panties.

Her head falls back, and I can’t pull my eyes from her. The wall I’ve painstakingly built crumbles. Disintegrates.

When I pull the pen out, it’s wet and shiny. I toss it onto the desk beside her and stand again, leaning over her body as I press against the pen mark with my thumb. Telling myself the flimsy cotton stretching between us makes this somehow less depraved.

But the truth is, nothing about this feels wrong. Everything about this feels right. So I go with it. I trust it.

I trust her.

“Admit it, Rosie.” I press in firm, even circles. “I found it on the first try, didn’t I?”

She arches her back now, hands gripping my shoulders as her eyes glaze over. She keeps her lips clamped shut and shakes her head defiantly.

I chuckle and switch to gentle upward swipes. Feeling the fabric beneath my thumb go wet. Feeling the hard point of her clit.

I know I got it right. And I know Rosie doesn’t want to admit it.

But that’s fine. I’ll let her have it.

Her moans turn to breathless gasps. Her cheeks turn from pink to red. I switch back to firm, slow circles.

“Fuck, this is so good,” she murmurs, eyes downcast as she watches me work her. “This should not be this—” I cut her off by increasing my pace.

“This is exactly how it should be.”

Her gaze snaps to mine and she nods. Then her breathing quickens. I watch her big blue eyes go from hooded to widened. Her eyes have always been her giveaway. So I’m not at all surprised when she gasps, “Ford!” as her back arches off my desk and her lashes crash down.

She comes with my name on her lips. Then she collapses back onto my desk, panting, and slings an arm over her face while I continue to gaze down at her, all beautifully disheveled.

This will play on repeat in my head for years to come. A moment I’ve imagined for far too long. All I can see is how perfect she looked when she came. My new go-to fantasy when I need to take the edge off.