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“Don’t worry about me. Let me worry about you.”
Those words alone almost push me over the edge. It’s been so long since I’ve been like this with anyone. More than that, it’s been so long since anyone has taken care of me. Like this or otherwise.
Timofey’s warm hand slides deeper between my thighs. The heel of his palm massages me while his fingers slide into my wetness.
I drop my head onto his shoulder and cry out. The only reason I haven’t fallen to the floor is because he’s pinning me to the car. My body is limp, so unaccustomed to this kind of pleasure that I’m not sure how to function.
“Timofey,” I cry, hugging his neck as I ride his fingers, “I’m going to—I can’t—”
“Come.” It’s a single command spoken in my ear.
I obey.
64
PIPER
My muscles clamp tightly around him, and I dissolve into a puddle of ecstasy. Heat pulses through my core and flows to the very ends of me. I’m on fire, and I’ve never been happier.
“Oh my god,” I moan again and again.
He lets me ride out the waves, then slowly pulls his thick fingers from me. I feel every inch, every brush of skin on skin, and it’s as good as anything I’ve ever felt.
He lowers me to the concrete floor on shaky legs, and a wild laugh bubbles out of me. “You said I’d be begging for release.”
“I did,” he says flatly.
My body is buzzing, and I am drunk on the feeling. I drag a hand over the points of my nipples and lower. I twirl my fingers over the place in my belly where I feel warm and loose. I sigh. “You said that would be torture, Timofey. I think you oversold. That wasn’t torturous at all.”
My eyes flutter closed, and I could fall asleep standing up.
Then the world spins. Timofey’s hands are on my hips, yanking me towards him and bending me over the hood of a silver car.
“Hey! What are you—”
His hand cracks across my ass before I can get the words out. Pain lances through me, but before I can complain about that, he yanks my jeans down and presses a kiss to the tender flesh.
His words are a dark, breathy snarl. “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”
I’m shaking as Timofey rips off my clothes piece by piece. Part of it is the orgasm still vibrating inside of me. But the slow, methodical way Timofey stands me up and peels me down to my bare skin is definitely the other part of the equation.
It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but this feels uniquely vulnerable.
Still, he couldn’t pay me to put my clothes back on. Whatever is coming, I’m going into it with eyes wide open.
Timofey stands behind me, and I spread my legs wider. I lean across the hood of the car and arch my back for him. I realize in a sudden jolt how badly I want him to want me. I want him to think I’m sexy and beautiful. I want him to reward me when I’m a good girl, to punish me when I’m bad. I want to give myself over to him in every way a person can be given.
But before I can express any of that, he drops to his knees. I start to stand up, confused, when I feel his hot breath against my very center.
“Wait,” I gasp. “Timofey, I already—”
Then his soft lips part me. When his tongue thrusts into me, I have to fight to stay standing.
Like he can tell I’m on the verge of collapse, Timofey grabs my thighs and pins me against the chrome grill of the car. I don’t even mind the metal biting into my skin. I welcome the bruises so long as he keeps licking me.
“Yes,” I pant. “Right there. Please don’t stop. Please.”
I can feel the familiar tremble starting deep in my belly. It’s almost overwhelming, the way it rides the edge of earlier tremors. I roll myself against his mouth, seeking out more of his touch.
