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The grip on my wrists was brutal, and even as I knew I’d likely have bruises, I couldn’t find it in myself to care. Pietor was just so damn delectable, and with every sporadic jerk of his hips, I got a clearer picture and just what Pietor was working with.
He was not lacking in that department, that was for sure.
I wanted to reach out and touch his face, take it in my hands as I let him explore my mouth. I was hungry to find the piercings in his nipples and toy with them, desperate to understand what it felt like.
Fuck, do I want piercings now? Billie, you are losing your damn mind.
Pietor nipped at my bottom lip before lowering his mouth to my neck, stealing caresses as his free hand dragged up my stomach toward my breast.
Oh, hell. He’s going to—
Reality crystallized, and I yanked at my wrists again, the rational side of my brain suddenly waking up. I bucked my hips again, and as much as that just slid me across his shaft, my ass rubbing against the coarse fabric of the carpet beneath me, it also interrupted his steady pursuit of my breast, the nipple hard as hell under this borrowed shirt.
“Let me go!” Thrashing, I tried to ignore the burn in my clit as my body begged for more attention.
“Absolutely not, darlin’. I’m enjoying myself far too much.” He rubbed himself between my legs again. “And I think you are, too.”
My cheeks burned. Knowing that my arousal was that obvious was so damn embarrassing.
“Did you like that piercing against your tongue, sweetheart?” Pietor smirked at me—sinful and sadistic. “Would you like it in other places? Or even better, would you like to see the one piercings you haven’t found yet?”
Everything was on fire, and if I understood what he was getting at, that monster cock of his had much more than size working for it. Oh fucking hell. Not good. Not good.
I yanked against him, my mother’s pious voice burning in my mind. Don’t just sell the farm for any boy who’s nice to look at. I’ve seen you, Billie Jean Pearce, looking at those motorcycle boys with lust in your eyes. I won’t have it.
I was an adult now, and that damned puritanical upbringing still haunted me. But I wasn’t about to admit that, was I?
Closing my eyes as I fought against him, I rocked my shoulders, increasing the likelihood of getting rug-burn while I was down here.
“I’m a lawyer, for fuck’s sake, and I have to get back to that job! I’m needed!”
“Where you’re needed?” Pietor’s voice was low, basically a growl.
My eyes flicked open, meeting Pietor’s as he glared at me. The way he towered over me was too fabulous, and I had to stop thinking like that. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I was fighting a losing battle against myself—against what was so close to happening between Pietor and me.
“Is that all you think about yourself? That you’re some worker bee there to get things done?”
I could hardly stand the weight of Pietor’s intense stare; all his interest focused entirely on me. It felt like being an insect pinned to a board, even as I relished being the center of his attention.
“I’ve seen you, Billie. I’ve watched how you let everyone around you get what they need first, putting yourself last on your list. All you do is work. That’s your entire existence. There’s more to life than that.”
My mouth fell open. He’d read me so thoroughly. While part of me reeled at the thought of Pietor tracking me and watching me, a much more significant part was blown away by how right he was. Still, I pulled into myself, shaking my head. I couldn’t…I wouldn’t just be analyzed like that.
Using the moment and Pietor’s relaxed grip as best I could, I pulled down on my hands once more. I slipped free this time, and while he was still a bit stunned, I shoved him back, rolling out from under him.
Scrabbling to my feet, I went for the exit. However, Pietor was quick on his feet, and he stood between me and the door, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Sweetheart, this isn’t going to end the way you think?”
I stepped to the side, but Pietor matched my movements like he had at the bathroom. That plan wouldn’t work, and telling him off wouldn’t work, either. What was I supposed to do?
“Why are you so obsessed with this? Wouldn’t it be easier just to kill me and be done with it?”
Pietor scoffed. “Well, that might be easier, but that’s not what I want at all. It’s not what you want either.”
“What do you know about what I want?” I sneered at him before maneuvering across the bed in a quick roll and getting much closer to the door.
Pietor was at my back just as fast, grabbing my arms around the biceps and hoisting me back against him. I could feel the thick outline of his erection press into me, and a stolen moan squeaked out.
