“What do you mean, pierced?” Noah asks gruffly from the front.
A thrill rushes through me. It’s mostly Sawyer’s doing, though there’s a smug satisfaction there, too.
Honestly, I’d forgotten Noah was here.
I’ve forgotten everything that existed before Sawyer lowered her lush, warm body onto mine, right where she belongs, and we were finally joined together.
She hasn’t stopped grinding against me. She’s doing all the work, taking my full length over and over and making the hottest noises I’ve ever heard. The windows of the truck are steamed up, thank fuck. No one else gets to see her like this. I can barely tolerate the small audience we already have.
She’s close, clenching around my piercings, gripping me mercilessly, working hard to pull herself up and down my length.
“You feel so good, mon ange,” I quietly praise. My hands drift to the globes of her ass, but I don’t allow myself to really grip her and hold on like I want to. I can’t take her weight or help in any way without reinjuring myself.
“Pierced, as in there are several silver barbells through his cock,” Eden grunts.
Sawyer freezes, then giggles. “It’sseven, professor. Not several.” When she sinks all the way back down and her walls spasm around me, I groan.
“The fuck?” Noah mutters.
Eden tips his head back against the headrest and closes his eyes.
Good. He can stay like that.
Sawyer, apparently, doesn’t agree. When she notices his despondence, she stills her movements. “Merce.”
Wait. Fuck.
The heat in my veins suddenly feels more like anger than ecstasy.
Why the hell do I have to be punished for his temper?
“Mercer. Please.”
He cracks his eyes open and lifts his head, clearly still reeling.
Sawyer reaches for him, cupping the side of his face, and he instantly leans into her touch.
“She’s high,” I remind him, a warning laced into the words. Just because she’s acting like nothing’s wrong right now doesn’t mean he’s forgiven. The same goes for me, unfortunately.
“I’m well aware,” he snaps back. “Should I ignore her, Tremblay? Just go back to the front seat and let you carry on?”
Sawyer gasps. “What? No!”
With both hands on her back, I cradle her closer, ignoring the pain in my chest as I press her body into mine.
“Right here, baby. I’m right here.”
The reminder does nothing to distract her from the man beside me.
“Merce,” she pouts, reaching out for him once again.
I tense, that anger spinning into a rage inside me.
Sawyer clenches around my length, the sensation instantly dampening the intrusive emotions, but only a little.
“Touch me. Please,” she beseeches him. “I need you, too.”
The rage sours, and hurt sets in, a lancing wound to my chest.
