Wild Love (Rose Hill Book 1)
Wild Love: Chapter 34

The problem is, I don’t want to keep things professional. I said it because it felt like a thing you should say when you start fucking your boss. Now, I’m lying in bed wearing Ford’s shirt, food baby forgotten, wishing he’d sneak down the stairs and crawl in with me.

I try to talk myself out of it so many times. We already almost got caught once. But my body doesn’t care—and neither does my heart. I want his hands in my hair, his warm skin against my own.

Which is why I creep through a dark house and up the stairs, keeping to the edges to avoid any creaking that might wake Cora. One peek into her room at the top of the stairs and I see her sprawled like a starfish. My lips curve up at the sight and then I very, very gently shut her bedroom door before padding down to the primary bedroom at the opposite end of the hallway.

The door is closed and no light shines from beneath. Some people might hesitate to march into Ford’s bedroom.

I am not one of those people. I twist the handle and walk right in. His curtains are open and ambient light from outside filters in through the massive windows. The door clicks shuts behind me and I walk across to the king-sized bed. Much like Cora, he is all long, muscular limbs stretched out in the middle.

Unlike with Cora, I don’t turn away.

I press one knee onto the mattress and crawl in his direction. His breaths are deep and the entire bed has a faint sandalwood smell. I think I’d settle for just lying here beside him, breathing him in.

Instead, I kneel at his side. Soaking him in, so relaxed.He looks younger—more carefree—like this.

With one hand, I trail the tip of my fingers over his lips—just like I did that day in the closet. I’d been on the verge of asking him if he ever thought we could be more. It seemed unfair to me in that moment that one of the best men I’ve ever known was standing right in front of me, telling me how valuable I was, and that I couldn’t have him.

But now the only question I find myself asking is why the hell not?

His big strong hand flies up, steely fingers wrapping around my wrist. “Rosie.”

It’s not a question. He knows it’s me.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing?” he asks from behind closed eyes.

“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 of that. Nothing between us is dirty—not in that way. Nothing about us needs to 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, and up to my breast, where he gently caresses me. Holds me. Touches me.

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.”

My brain is too addled to care. “More.” I fold myself over him, dropping my head into the crook of his neck and kissing him there. My teeth graze over the lobe of his ear as I realize he’s removed his boxers while I blacked out.

“More?”

I nod, feeling his Adam’s apple move against my forehead as he swallows. “More.”

His hands move firmly, all business, as he removes my underwear. Then he sits up, leaning against the headboard and taking me with him.

I can feel his hard length propped against my ass as he positions us.

His eyes stay on my face as he reaches down to grip the hem of his shirt. The one he gave me to sleep in when he walked me to the guest room door and told me it might help me miss him less. Right before he smirked that annoying, I’m-right-and-you-know-it smirk of his.

He wasn’t, though. Which is why I’m here.

My body coils with anticipation again as his gaze rakes over my bare skin.

His hands roam slowly yet purposefully. Over my arms, my collarbones. Reading me like braille. I think he’s always been able to, and I just didn’t know it.

“I’m not sure you can handle more, Rosie.” He kisses my chest as my hands move in tandem, feeling him in a way I didn’t get to earlier. “You’re not very good at keeping quiet.”

“I’ll be good,” I murmur, grinding my pussy back on him and feeling his steely length pulse against my ass.

My hands end up at the key around his neck. The fact he even sleeps with it on makes me smile.

And when I peek at his face, I can see the ghost of a smile on his lips too. But it’s a different type of smile.

His fingers bump against mine as he takes the key from me. He lifts it between us. “Open wide.”

“What?” As I whisper the word, he takes the key and presses it between my lips, flat on my tongue.

“Hold that there. Don’t let it go. Or I’ll stop.”

My eyes widen, but I nod. It tastes metallic in my mouth, but suddenly his lips are on my nipples and my hands are raking through his hair. When he moves too far, the chains tugs at my lips, but I clamp them together.

I don’t let go. Because I desperately do not want Ford to stop.

He reaches between us, urging me up onto my knees. I move obediently, and in return, I am rewarded by the sensation of his cock sliding against my pussy.

Back and forth. Back and forth. My eyes flutter shut as he tortures me. One hand grips my shoulder while the other is fisted around his length. I swivel my hips, feeling his crown notch inside me.

“Goddamn, Rosie. You’re even better than I fucking dreamed,” he mutters roughly. Then he shoves himself in, and I’m glad I have something in my mouth to keep me quiet. Because no one and nothing has ever felt this good.

My eyes snap open as my body adjusts. The light sting of him taking me so roughly for the second time today has blood thrumming through my veins at a rapid pace. My heart pounding even harder than before.

We stare at each other. His cock is buried deep inside me, his key now warm against my tongue.

My key?

Our key.

“Move, Rosie. Show me how bad you want it.”

My pelvis undulates because I do want it. I lift and I drop back down, feeling every thick inch of him as I do. Reveling in the way his eyes widen before taking on a more hooded appearance.

What starts off slow and deliberate comes apart at the seams. Hands that were searching are now gripping. Breathing that was even is now choppy. Everything is hot and damp as we writhe together in silence.

We don’t need words. They wouldn’t do justice to something that feels like this anyway.

“You’re gonna come on my cock now, aren’t you, Rosie?” he growls roughly, breathlessly, against my ear. My body shudders in response. “I can tell. Your eyes give it away, even in the dark. Then every muscle on you goes all tight. You ride me so damn hard. So eager. So warm. So fucking tight.”

I’m so full of him. His words. His body. It’s too much, and right when I’m about to go barreling over that edge again, he pulls the key from my mouth and kisses me soundly, swallowing the sound of me screaming his name as I come.

With a fist full of my hair, he pumps into me hard. Spilling himself, filling me up thoroughly right my orgasm rocks me. Flays me. Leaves me slumped in his arms, desperately trying to catch my breath.

I don’t know how long we stay like that. Me straddling his lap, his cock pulsing inside me, clinging to each other and kissing. Slow, languid, deliberate kisses that make my throat ache with their tenderness. Eventually they slow and Ford rolls me off him carefully.

Always carefully. Even when he’s rough with me, he’s so damn intentional. I feel nothing short of pampered with him. And when he gets up to retrieve a warm washcloth, the point is only driven further home.

“What are you doing?” I breathe the words, trying to stay quiet as he comes to kneel between my splayed legs.

“Taking care of you.”

The warm cloth swipes over my swollen core and I let out a soft moan. “You don’t need to do that.”

He continues wiping me gently. “But I want to.”

I’m struck silent by such a simple sentence.

I lie in Ford’s bed, letting him take care of me. And when he’s finished, he lifts the covers, crawls in behind me, and holds my body against his all night long.