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Judging by the way the fabric clings to her as if it’s painted on, she’s not wearing a bra. Her nipples are already hard, pressing through the material, painfully visible—like they are begging for my mouth.

I can’t resist. My mouth moves down to one, and I take it between my teeth, biting—hard enough to make her tremble in my arms. And fuck, she does.

Her whole body shudders, hips twitching toward me, breath caught like she wasn’t ready for how much she’d still like this.

My heart pounds, a chaotic rhythm that matches the fire igniting inside me. A fire I’ve tried to kill a thousand times over, but one that’s always been hers.

I feel her shiver beneath my touch, and a part of me aches—for the control I’m losing, for the distance I’ve kept for so long.

Her body still responds to me like it always has. But this time, there’s something rawer, more desperate in her gaze. Like she wants this as bad as I do—but also like she’s on the edge of falling apart. Like she came here broken and is barely holding the pieces in place.

Her breath catches, and I sense the tension coiling in her muscles, fighting back but losing ground. And for a second, I wonder if she’ll push me away. But she doesn’t. She pulls me closer.

I want to take her, to make her forget every doubt, every fear. Yet, there’s a fragility in her eyes—like she’s trying to hold herself together even as the walls are crumbling.

I tighten my grip slightly, just enough to ground her, to remind her I’m here. That I'm not going anywhere for now. But I keep my voice low, almost a growl.

“Don’t lie to me, Sierra.”

The air between us is electric, charged with everything we’ve left unsaid. And for the first time in months, I feel the weight of it all crashing down—desire, regret, anger, and something deeper.

Something like hope.

With my other hand, I slowly pull down the zipper of her jumpsuit, just halfway. The fabric parts, exposing the curve of her breasts—just enough to make me lose focus, just enough to ruin me.

I press my tongue to the bare skin at the base of the unzipped part and trail it up to her left breast, heat blooming across her skin.

With a push of my chin, the material shifts aside, exposing it fully to my gaze. I circle my tongue gently around her nipple—savoring her.

She trembles in my arms, her whole body reacting. I feel her hands clench tighter around me, pulling me fully into her, desperate for contact. She moans softly, throwing her head back against the cold wall. That sound? It’s lethal.

“You don’t look like a woman who doesn’t want to be fucked by me,” I say, lifting my head and locking eyes with her.

My voice is rough, tinged with arrogance but laced with something more vulnerable beneath it.

“Judging by how permissive you are, I think I could do whatever I want with you tonight.”

I know I’m crossing a line. I can feel it. And I hate myself for needing to say it. Because I’m pushing. I know I’m pushing. Teasing her like an asshole. But I need something—anything—that’ll pull me back, center me.

This fire between us? This dangerous dance? It’s all I have to hold on to.

Her gaze meets mine, sharp and unyielding, but there’s a flicker of desire—maybe—or the faintest hint of surrender.

Looking at me with that superior, teasing smirk, she slides her hand right over my hard cock, gripping it through my pants like she owns it. Like she never stopped owning it.

“Judging by this…” she says, squeezing harder, that teasing fire still dancing in her voice, “I think I’m the one who can do whatever she wants with you tonight.”

My breath hitches, caught between a growl and a groan.

“I’m not the one saying I don’t want to fuck you, Sierra,” I reply, feigning a calm I don’t feel.

All I want is for that hand to move—up and down—unzip me, slip inside my boxer briefs, and keep going until I lose it. And considering I’m holding her in my arms, and she’s the one touching me… I’m pretty sure it won’t take long at all.

But I can’t give her the satisfaction of admitting that. So I close the distance between us, trapping her hand between our bodies, and my lips brush the corner of her mouth. Just enough to make her want more. Just enough to remind her who’s really in control.

“Don’t you think we should play fair, then?”

With that, my grip tightens around her throat—a controlled pressure, nothing harmful but enough to make her shiver.