Wicked Wish (The Wicked Horse Vegas 2) - Page 44

“I know,” I say glumly. “But it’s only been a few weeks. I’ve got years ahead of me.”

“You have a husband pushing you to do something.”

“I thought you didn’t like Vince,” I say curiously. She seems to be his champion today.

“I can’t stand Vince,” she says freely. “But he’s right to be making you think about your future.”

“I got a job interview set for tomorrow,” I say as I change the subject and turn away from the window to start my pacing around Walsh’s apartment. I stop in my tracks when I see Walsh standing there just outside the elevator.

Memories of that first night he brought me here play in vivid flashback, and I start walking to him with a little sway in my hips.

“Gotta go,” I tell Elena softly. “Walsh is home.”

“Wait a minute—” she says, but I disconnect the call. She’ll forgive me.

I pocket my phone as I near him, his eyes watching me with dark curiosity.

“You’re home early,” I murmur as I reach him, my hands going to the belt on his dress slacks. As I start to pull it free, I add, “Looks like you had an exhausting day. Let me make it better for you.”

His lips quirk at the lame come on, but he doesn’t stop me as I undo his pants after dropping his belt. And Walsh in no way looks like he had a hard day. He looks as fresh and GQ handsome as he did when he left early this morning.

He’s thick and hard when I pull him free of his briefs, and I drop to my knees with my hand wrapped around his girth. Without hesitation, I take him in my mouth as I look up at him and start to move. I lick and suck, squeezing and stroking him with my hand. I expect him to take over at any moment now, but he just watches me from above with lust on his face.

It’s like that with us always, and I hope to fuck it never changes.

Walsh lets me do my thing. He doesn’t take over, but his hands do come up to gently frame my face. I move on him slowly, savoring every little groan I drag out of this normally stoic man. I flutter my tongue on the sensitive underside just below the head of his cock, and press my tongue into the slit. My hand moves his balls, and I gently squeeze them as I work his shaft.

And when he comes with a strangled moan, his hands clutching at my hair, I watch in pure enjoyment as the pleasure washes over his face, hardens his jaw, and makes his throat go taut as he strains with release.

Fucking beautiful.

When he pulls out of my mouth, he yanks me up off the ground, bends over, and throws me into a fireman’s carry. He heads straight for the bedroom, and I smile with anticipation.


I collapse on top of Walsh, my heart hammering because that was some intense shit. The normally in control alpha man came home today with the idea in mind to let me play. He let me blow him in slow fashion, and then he put me in a straddle over his waist on the bed, lowering me down slowly onto his cock after he recuperated while he ate me out.

It was perfect. I rode him slowly at first, but then the lust and need took over and I bounced up and down on him with abandonment as I made all kinds of gibberish sounds.

Walsh’s hands come to stroke my lower back gently as we let our systems cool down, our breathing come back to normal, and our hearts to get out of stroke territory.

When he rolls me to my side and faces me, I give him a smile. “You’re home early.”

“It was a slow day at the office,” he says, and I wonder what that means. Did he just make hundreds of thousands of dollars in property deals, or millions? He’s so damn successful, but I don’t really know what that means.

“What do you want to do tonight?” I ask. I don’t tell him I wanted to make him dinner because it smacks of domesticity too much, and I don’t want him to think I’m wanting more.

But God, I want more from him. These last few weeks have taken the fond love I’ve had for this man over the years, mixed it with the deepest intimacy I’ve ever experienced in my life, and intensified it into something that’s beyond description.

Elena was right to push at me, but I’m afraid to move. What I want from Walsh isn’t going to happen according to him. He’s too set on the fact that Micah won’t approve. Of course, I could just approach Micah on the sly and tell him what’s going on. The abbreviated, PG version so he doesn’t want to kill Walsh, but Micah loves me. He wants me to be happy.

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