Wicked Wish (The Wicked Horse Vegas 2) - Page 66

“Okay,” he says, and I can hear the disappointment in his voice. “See you soon.”

Forty-five minutes doesn’t give me much time, especially because I want to stop by the post office and mail a package to Elena. I found the most beautiful scarf while out shopping yesterday, and I knew she’d love it.

I rush back to my room, checking my hair and makeup. I put a little bit of cherry Chapstick on and grab my purse to head out.

When I open the door, I’m brought to a complete halt by someone standing there.

A big hulking someone actually, and it takes several beats of my heart before I can process it’s Walsh with his finger outstretched toward my doorbell.

“What are you doing here?” I’m able to finally push out around the emotion clogging my throat.

“I’m here to bring you back to Vegas with me,” he says confidently, and while I’ll admit a thrill of adrenaline spikes through me at that alpha proclamation, all my hurt and anger throw up a huge wall.

“Not interested,” I say as I start to push past him. “And I’m running late. I’ve got to meet Vince for lunch.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to work for me,” Walsh says as his palm goes to my chest and he gently pushes me back inside. He follows me in, shuts the door, and turns the lock. “You’re going to have to be late.”

“Walsh,” I sputter, but then his mouth is on mine and he’s kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before.

His hands deep in my hair, fingers curled to grip it tight. He shoves his tongue into my mouth, and he bends me almost backward as he claims me.

When he pulls his lips from mine, he demands in a snarling way that tells me the answer is very important, “Have you fucked him?”

I shake my head no, and then I go dizzy when he pulls me up, spins me to the door, and pushes me back into it. Words of protest are stuck deep within me when Walsh goes to his knees, puts his hands up my sundress, and roughly drags my panties down my legs. I feel the cool air hit me there, and it feels cooler than it should because I’m wet.

Fuck.

Lifting each one of my legs in turn, Walsh pulls my panties free without so much as a protest from me. Then he’s pushing my dress up, hauling a single leg over his shoulder, and burying his face in my pussy. He gives out a groan and then inhales deeply, a move that’s so fucking erotic I almost collapse. But then my leg locks straight as his tongue circles my clit and his fingers slip inside me.

I bring my hands to Walsh’s head, and I try to push him off with a feeble protest that’s a bit of a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Walsh, please stop. I’m with Vince—”

His head pulls back, and he glares up at me. “Say his fucking name again while I’m tongue fucking you and you’re not going to like what I do.”

Our eyes stay locked, and I can’t say anything. I want to just say “Vince” to see what Walsh would do, because I bet it would involve him slapping my pussy, but I don’t poke the bear. He waits a moment more for me to tell him to stop. When I don’t, he dives back in. He licks and sucks. Fucks me with his fingers. He waits until I’m on the edge of an orgasm, and then he pulls his lips away to look up at me and say things like, “God, I missed this” and “This is my pussy” and “You better fucking scream my name when you come, Jorie.”

My orgasm starts to brew hard again and my whimpering lets Walsh know I’m close. He starts to pull away from me, the torturous bastard, but I’m having none of it. I grip his hair hard, flex my hips, and rub myself hard against his mouth. I can feel his lips peel back into an amused grin, and he gives a tiny nip to my clit.

I explode viciously, screaming out his name like he told me to.

I’m still shuddering with tiny micro bursts of pleasure when he surges up and whips his cock out of his pants so fast I don’t even have time to admire it. He’s got me in his arms, back slammed into the door, and he’s driving into me so deeply, I feel another climax start.

Walsh is so lost inside of me, he grunts like an animal every time he thrusts in. I claw at his shoulders and rotate my hips, trying to get him deeper. I moan and whimper and pant, begging him for more.

He starts to fuck me so hard, the door starts rattling.

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