Wishful Sinful (Rock Royalty Book 5)

by Christie Ridgway

  He stayed her hand for a moment. “Just the head for now.”

  Nodding, she moved the stretchy band until only the flushed crown of his penis was revealed. Breathing hard, she stared at it, fascinated to see a bead of liquid seep from the slit as she watched. Oh, yes. He wanted her, too. Her forefinger shot out to sweep the drop away, and then she sucked it off.

  Walsh’s groan sent her gaze to his face, her finger still in her mouth.

  “Flirt.” He caressed her hair again. “I told you that teases get into trouble.”

  With a quick movement, he shoved his boxers and pants to the ground.

  Honey edged forward, thinking this was permission to play with the fascinating object in front of her, but he stepped out of her reach to yank back the covers on the bed. The maid had left another arrangement of scarlet hibiscus on the white duvet, and the flowers went flying.

  “Get in,” he said.

  She stood, then hesitated, just to tease a little more. Walsh strode to her, fisted his hand in her hair and yanked back her head to take her mouth. She moaned into the kiss and molded her body to his, the heat of his cock branding her belly. Then he tore his mouth away, released her hair, and spanked her twice on the butt.

  “Get in,” he ordered again.

  Rubbing her behind as if it hurt—it didn’t, the little slaps only served to bring more sensation to a region already overloaded—Honey climbed onto the mattress.

  “On your back.”

  More wetness gathered between her thighs. The commands just worked for her. Maybe because she was always thinking so hard, trying to do the right thing, anticipating what her siblings needed from her, coming up with ways to neutralize the crap her parents pulled on each other that put the family into crisis time and again.

  With her head on the pillow she gazed at her boss. He was no less intimidating naked. She stole a glance at his cock, noting its aggressive thrust and the tightness of the round balls at the base. A feminine thrill that was part nerves and part need coursed through her.

  “Like what you see?” he asked, palming the hard flesh.

  She nodded, captivated by the way he handled himself. She’d never seen this. Her previous encounters had never included a man touching his own sexual organ, and the roughness of the strokes surprised her. Excited her.

  “Now you.”

  Her gaze flew to his. “Me…?”

  “Show me how you touch yourself, Honey.”

  Her whole body flushed. “I couldn’t—”

  “I’m in charge of you, and I want to see.” His nostrils flared. He stared at her, in full boss-mode.

  He’d see how wet she was for him. How much she wanted to be with him this way. Panic tightened her chest.

  His mind-reading abilities must have kicked in again, because he strode over to the bed. “Okay, sweet girl. I’ll help.” He settled onto the pillows beside hers, sitting up against the headboard. Then he lifted her between his legs.

  She made a little bleat of noise, but she settled in place, her back to his chest, his erect penis pressing into the small of her back. He widened his legs, then, without a word of warning, he lifted hers so they bracketed his thighs, her knees bent, the center of her exposed.

  He rested his chin on her shoulder, and put his palm on her belly. “What a beautiful pussy.”

  Honey supposed now was a good time to die.

  Before she could think of how to make that happen, his fingers slid through her folds. He spread them to open her farther, and the air washed cool on her hot, wet flesh. Walsh nuzzled her neck.

  “You’re doing good, girl.”

  She didn’t want to die anymore. She wanted more of his touch, his praise.

  He picked up her hand, kissed the knuckles then twined two of her fingers with two of his. She suspected where he was going with this, but she still jumped when they touched her flesh.

  “Shh,” he said, kissing her neck again. “Relax. Let’s get you feeling good.”

  Closing her eyes, she allowed the back of her head to rest against his chest. Their fingers slid through her swollen flesh, and she held her breath as he closed in on her clit…but didn’t touch it.

  As he toyed with her, the sounds of her wetness made her belly tighten with embarrassment. His mouth moved on her neck again.

  “Look who’s all turned on,” he said. “I love it.”

  Then he lifted their fingers and took them into his mouth. She moaned as he sucked her flavor off their digits, his tongue firm and fastidious, seeking out the taste from between her fingers and on her palm.

  She squirmed.

  “Sweet,” he said, when he was done. “Like your name.”

  “I want to come,” she said, sudden and fervent.

  He laughed. “I just bet you do.” Then he cupped her exposed flesh, almost gripping there. She lifted her hips into the firm touch, bowled-over by how practiced he was, how well he could play her body.

  Two long fingers found her channel, slid inside.

  She moaned, her hips lifting higher, but his other hand pushed them down, holding her still for his retreat and penetration. It was a tight fit, but she was so wet there was no discomfort. He kept up a steady rhythm, still not allowing her to do anything but take what he deigned to offer her. Goose bumps broke out over her body, and her nipples felt as hard as cherry pits.

  Without her permission, her hand lifted to one.

  “Yeah,” Walsh said in her ear.

  She almost yanked it away, but he kissed her neck, bit her earlobe.

  “Do that, Honey. Good girl.”

  As he continued to screw her with his fingers, she tugged on her nipples, pinching them tighter, remembering Walsh’s sure touch. She moaned, almost overwhelmed by desire. Her skin felt scorching, and her inner muscles clenched hard on his deliciously invading fingers.

  He groaned, and behind her his cock twitched. He was seeping liquid too, and it made a wet kiss against the small of her back. “Yeah, baby. You’re close.”

  “So close,” she murmured.

  “Then touch that needy little clit, darling. Make yourself come while I own this hot and greedy pussy.”

  His dirty words took her halfway to heaven, and then she touched her clit. Her arm lay across the one caging her hips, adding more pressure there as she rubbed the bundle of nerves. The orgasm gathered, a pressure in her chest and in her pelvis, and then pleasure rolled, traveling from her toes and from her fingertips, exploding at her center in a starburst of drenching pleasure that he prolonged by the thrust and retreat of his driving fingers.

  Finally, the last of the carnal bliss faded away. She came to herself still spread around Walsh’s body and still speared by his hand. It felt…good. More than good.

  At his continued possession her clit twitched, and desire stirred again.

  He slid his fingers out, nice and easy, then back in. “You with me already, girl?”

  She nodded, reluctant to leave the cradle of his body. But she felt the prod of his erection at her back, and she knew the night wasn’t over. A shiver ran down her spine. But when she made to move, he tightened his hold on her.

  “I’m still in charge,” he said. “You like that?”

  She loved that. But instead of speaking she nodded.

  “Then you pay attention.”

  Honey nodded again.

  “There are condoms in the bathroom. When I let you up, I want you to fetch one.”

  “Okay.”

  “I want to see your body again, Honey. I want to see you walk away from me so I can look at that sweet ass, and then I want to see you breasts bounce when you return to bed.”

  Heat started at the crown of her head and washed toward the soles of her feet. “I can do that.” She wanted his gaze on her.

  His movements slow and gentle, Walsh withdrew from her body. He lifted the arm across her hips. Her heart pounding again, Honey tried to gracefully roll off the bed. Then she padded toward the bathroom, feeling his gaze on her the entire
distance.

  On the counter, the condoms were in open sight in a pocket of his toiletry kit. She drew one out and tucked it into her palm. Then she glanced at herself in the mirror over the sink. Jerking back, she had to take a second look. She could hardly recognize herself with the wild curls, the red, swollen mouth, the flushed cheeks.

  Honey Brooks was not this wanton, sexual creature in the mirror.

  Well, for now, in this bubble away from home, Honey Brooks was this wanton, sexual creature.

  She waited for a reaction from her inner self and smiled when she heard it loud and clear.

  Hallelujah.

  Chapter 9

  Walsh didn’t usually feel fondness for his bed partners. Of course, he liked them fine, and was always sure they got their share of the pleasure, but he didn’t feel a warmth run through him when he held them after coitus like he did now with Honey. He rubbed his cheek against the top of her hair and felt the fine strands catch on his beard.

  He’d probably put a rash all over her sweet body.

  Christ, he wanted to do it again.

  And he could, he thought, smug as hell. As long as they were in Mexico, he could do it as often as he could manage to seduce her.

  It wouldn’t be difficult. He knew exactly how to get to her.

  “Mouth,” he said now, to prove it.

  She instantly lifted her head to offer it to him. He kissed her, soft and affectionate, keeping a sexual smolder out of it until she made a needy noise at the back of her throat. Then he thrust his tongue between her lips, domineering and possessive.

  Honey went boneless against him, surrendering to his aggression.

  His cock, which mere minutes before had worked in her tight pussy until achieving an explosive climax, stirred.

  Jesus. Needing air, he ended the kiss and then hitched her over his body so her face looked down into his.

  He drew his thumb along the beard burn on her jaw. “The way you take orders turns me on,” he murmured.

  Her gaze slid sideways. Even in the dim light he could see new color rise on her cheeks.

  “Hey,” he said. “Didn’t you hear me? It turns me on.”

  She buried her face in his neck, and he stroked the back of her hair. “Baby, it’s cool. You have a little kink,” he teased.

  Her head shot up. “It’s you,” she said, her tone indignant. “You…brought it out of me.”

  “Yeah.” He bussed her nose. “I’m a beast.”

  “You are,” she agreed. “It’s not my fault that I…”

  “Respond like a dream.” He fucking loved it.

  When he’d decided to bow to the inevitable and take her to bed, he’d been delighted to discover that what made him as hard as a pike got her going, too. The fact was, that little twist put what they did together safely and squarely in the category of fun and games.

  Instead of serious sex, which might be dangerous, it was just some lighthearted bed play.

  She rolled off him, but he didn’t allow her to go far. His arm pulled her close again, and she rested her head on his shoulder once more.

  “Maybe we should have started out a little tamer,” she said in a small voice.

  Really, she thought a few bossy orders was wild? “Hey, I didn’t bring out the whips and chains, did I?”

  When she stiffened, he laughed. “Honey, relax.”

  But his mind went to the drawer full of silk ties he had at home. Damn, he wished he’d packed a couple. Not that he couldn’t improvise…

  “How did you know?” she whispered now.

  He rubbed his cheek against her curls again. “We don’t have to talk about it in hushed tones,” he whispered back. “We’re consenting adults.”

  “I’m not sure I could be…like that with anyone but you.”

  At the thought of her with someone else, his gut tightened. Then he forced himself to relax and toy gently with her hair. “Is that right?”

  “I trust you. I guess that’s why I could respond that way. You know…give over.”

  Surrender. Submit. It made him feel smug and damn satisfied that he could be the man with whom she felt safe enough to reveal her inner and honest sexual being. He’d be happy to help her explore her appetites over the next few days.

  “Well, good. I’m glad you trust me. I feel the same.”

  “You do?” Now she sounded pleased.

  “Of course.” He was closer to Honey than any other woman, even his Rock Royalty “sisters.” By design, he’d always kept a certain distance from the females in his life. Whether it was because of his careless mother who’d taken off, leaving her sons with a negligent, perpetually half-tanked father who exposed his kids to a year-round summer camp of sin, or because the one woman he’d given his youthful heart to had turned what he believed was true love into a Greek-style tragedy…

  Well, the why of it didn’t matter. What did, was that if any lover besides Honey had promised they’d go back to their business-only relationship after a few days of setting the sheets on fire, he wouldn’t believe them.

  Walsh, however, took Honey at her word.

  Warm affection for her welled up inside him again. He kissed the top of her head and slid his hand up and down her arm, stroking her soft flesh.

  “I like your skin,” he said. “I like seeing it in those sexy dresses and little shorts. Your hair looks great.”

  “That’s not what you said at first.”

  “I was still trying to resist your feminine wiles.”

  She made a sound of disbelief. “I don’t have any feminine wiles.”

  He thought of those little looks she’d sent him through her lashes. Oh, she was finding some wiles, all right. His hand returned to her hair, where he found a springy curl that he pulled straight, then let free.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Why what?”

  “Your hair—”

  “The humidity here made it crazy. My head looked like a pyramid.”

  “Not why’d you get it cut. Why were you hiding behind it in the first place? And what was with the glasses? The drab clothes?”

  “I don’t like to shop.”

  Maybe. But she wasn’t being entirely forthcoming. He reached lower to put his hand on the soft rise of her ass.

  “Do you think the boss will allow you to hold out on him?” His fingers tightened on her flesh. “Didn’t you promise on your way down here not to keep any secrets from him?”

  She squirmed. “Walsh…”

  “Girl,” he warned in a low voice. He bit back a smile as he felt her skin heat all along his side. “We have rules.”

  “Oh, all right,” she said, as if annoyed. “It’s just…protection, I guess. Like a shell.”

  Protection? “What?”

  “I had a bad experience once, and I found out it was better if people―men―you know, don’t look at me.”

  He didn’t like the sound of this. “Men look at you all day long every day at MadSci.”

  “Look at me like I’m…I’m a woman.”

  His muscles went rigid. “Did someone bother you there? Is someone bothering you there? Why haven’t you—”

  “No, no. This was before I started work at MadSci.”

  It didn’t calm him much. “I need to hear this story.”

  “It was at the end of college. I had a summer internship as an assistant to the president—”

  “It was on your resume. You worked for the president of the company that bottles that specialty hot sauce.”

  “You remember?” She sounded surprised.

  “I remember. What happened?”

  “I really liked Mr. Rivera.” She sighed. “He gave me a lot of opportunities. Explained, often, why he made the decisions he did. I admired him.”

  Fuck. He stroked her thigh, trying to soothe himself as much as her. “Did he harass you?”

  She shook her head, her curls tickling his chest. “Not him. Not like you’re thinking.”

  Her ensuing silence unnerved him, and
he gritted his teeth, admonishing himself to give her time to tell it her way. But at moments like this he didn’t have much patience. “Honey—”

  “Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I was too naive to understand the situation. If I had realized, I could have—”

  “You are not going to take that on.” His temper spiked, and he had to pause to put reins on it. A long breath helped. “I know you, and whatever happened was not your fault.”

  “I know,” she said, her voice quiet. “I do know that.”

  Another silence passed, and then she continued. “A man came to the offices from New York. A possible distributor. It was an important contact, and I did what I could to make him comfortable—the usual stuff, coffee how he liked it, asking for his lunch order. With a smile, of course.”

  “And?”

  “I guess he took a shine to me. To my mind, I was simply being courteous. But to his…”

  “Men like that don’t give a shit what’s going on in your head. If they want you, they think they should get to have you.”

  “Mr. Rivera asked me to drive the client to the airport one night as he had a family obligation—that was his excuse, anyway. Before leaving, he reminded me of how valuable a contract with the man would be.”

  Walsh closed his eyes.

  “It was after hours. The executive offices were empty except for me and the client. He followed me into the small kitchen there—I thought I was making him a coffee.”

  “He had something else in mind.”

  Another nod. “I held out the mug. He took it, set it away, then grabbed my hand and put it on him…there.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Then he was kissing, groping, telling me I’d showed him how much I wanted him every time I walked his way.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I pushed at him, turned my face away, told him he was wrong. ‘No’ did not work. When I finally managed to break free of him, I ran to the door, but he’d locked it.”

  “Honey.” Walsh tucked her head closer to him. “My God.”

  “I fumbled with it for a second, but I guess I was so rattled I couldn’t get the mechanism to work. So I punched through the wood.”

  He froze. “What?”

  “It was a very cheap door.”

  Walsh fumbled for Honey’s right hand, the one with the scarred knuckles. He brought it to his mouth, kissed the raised places. “My little WWE Diva.”