Page 13 of Hung Up

“You—think”—sweat dripped down onto my chest and I swore it sizzled—“I—don’t—know—every—one—of—your—secret—desires?” Each word was accentuated by a powerful thrust, driving me higher and higher.

Pierce dropped his arm onto the pillow, framing me as he lowered his face to mine. His pace slowed down, though each snap of his hips remained purposeful as he drove inside of me.

“I’ve listened to every one of your calls for years, Harper,” he said, pausing between his thrusts, pulling out to grab the base of his cock and slap the tip against my clit. A thick strand of arousal glistened between his cock and my cunt. “I’ve been waiting for years to finally do something about it.”

He slowly rolled his cock against my pussy, teasing me as he flicked my clit with the crown of his cock. Back and forth, he massaged me over and over, faster and faster as I whimpered and writhed.

“And now,” he hissed, lining up back to my entrance, “you’re mine.”

With that, he slammed back inside of me.

His words awoke something in me, and my gaze met his. The image of his flushed body and strong form braced above me, afternoon sunlight streaming over his skin and highlighting the honey strands woven on his head . . . It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

“So you can lie there,” he said, voice gruff with desire as he snapped his hips to mine, “but you’re going to take every inch of me, love, and you’re going to like it.”

I did, I would, and I loved it.

Pierce moved his hand from the dip of my waist to draw circles on my clit, speeding up his pace as I met him thrust for thrust. I was powerless to his command, to the way he dragged me right to the edge of a cliff. All it would take was one stiff blow and I’d topple over.

Pierce must have seen the desperate look in my eyes, as he leaned down and whispered over my lips: “Let me feel you milk me, darling.”

It was like he pushed me over that cliff with a Mack truck. My moans were louder than the sound of our bodies smacking together; the high pitch of my squeal could’ve rivaled a porn star. Pierce silenced me with a kiss, sloppily fucking my mouth with his tongue as he rode out his own orgasm, groaning against my lips as we came together.

Hot pulsing inside me sent a searing flash over my skin, the knowledge of his cum inside me too hot for me to handle. My head dropped back onto the pillow as Pierce collapsed half on top of me, before rolling us so I lay on his chest. I fought to catch my breath as I buried deeper into his hold.

“I take it back,” Pierce groaned as he shifted to get comfortable, wrapping an arm around my body. “That was way better than fucking you as a landline.”

A gentle kiss was pressed to my forehead, and I smiled numbly into his bare chest, too tired to respond.

My eyes fluttered shut as exhaustion drew me into its warm embrace. Or maybe that was Pierce . . .

Note to self: Her laugh could heal anything. Anyone.

Make her laugh more.

Humming woke me, the grumbling melody unfamiliar but entrancing in its own right. My eyes blinked open, and I was met with the sight of Pierce flipping through that western romance again, Her Mail-Order Cowboy, humming to himself as he read.

Morning sunlight streamed into my room, framing Pierce and the bed we laid in.

“You can read?” I asked after a moment of realization. It hadn’t occurred to me that he probably shouldn’t be able to read.

Pierce startled, snapping the book shut as pink stained his cheekbones. God, he was cute. And not just cute, but fucking hot, too.

“I guess so,” he admitted. “Must’ve been programmed into me. Check the instruction manual.”

“I found you at a thrift shop.” My voice was sardonic. “Besides, I don’t even know how that would work.”

“Love, I was a pink princess phone up until two nights ago. I think we’re past the usual rules of logic.”

He had a point.

Manic laughter spilled from me and he looked at me like I’d lost it. I think I had . . . I mean, what was this life I was living?

An unbidden yawn poured out, and I quickly covered my mouth with my hands. I didn’t want Pierce hurting himself as he raced to escape my morning breath. Pierce’s brows furrowed, the question hanging in the air between us as I scrambled out of bed and over to my en suite.

Soft footsteps followed me as I grabbed my toothbrush. The entire time I scrubbed my mouth clean, Pierce stared at me through the mirror with that same look of confusion. My jade eyes were uncharacteristically bright as I watched our reflections, and a glow revitalized my usually pale skin. My cheeks were flushed and I looked . . . happy.

And who was I to question it?

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