Page 47 of Pierce

“Of course, it means something. It used to mean the world to me, before I met you.”

Her shoulders fell as she sighed. “Pierce. I wish I could make you understand. I have a duty, too.”

“That doesn’t absolve you from trying to run away without saying a word. Could you have lived with yourself if you got away from me?” I closed the distance between us and saw the way her body trembled harder with every step I took.

She wanted to run—I could smell the fear all over her, but there was another scent. Just as strong, maybe stronger. I had smelled it earlier, in her room. Desire.

“I didn’t want to,” she whispered. “You have to believe that. I thought if I took myself out of the picture, you could go on without me.”

“That could never happen. The sun would burn out, the mountains would crumble, before I would ever be able to go on without you.”

I cupped her face, and she tilted her head to lean it against my palm with a tiny whimper.

“This is already complicated enough. Please, Pierce. We can’t make it worse.” Her body told another story.

The desire built until her scent surrounded us both, wrapping us in a cloud of deep, primal need.

I could almost hear her heart pounding as I stroked her warm, flushed cheek with my thumb. The end was inevitable.

I only waited for her to admit it.

“Pierce?”

“Yes.”

“I need you.”

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