I returned to the private room I’d left Dean in and knocked on the door before opening it, giving him warning that I was there.
My breath caught as I laid eyes on him again—he was already on his feet, halfway to the door, by the time I stepped inside. “What—?”
That was all I managed to get out before the door swung closed behind me and Dean grabbed me by the shoulders, pressed me up against it and clicked the lock shut. For a split second, all I could comprehend was that his body was flush with mine, his intensely dark eyes boring into me.
I barely had time to gasp in a breath before he kissed me, though the moment seemed to last a lifetime. The warm, insistent pressure of his lips against mine sent a pulse of energy from my mouth all the way down to my toes, a good portion of it surging to my cunt and staying there. When he teased my lips apart with his tongue I just about melted, meeting each stroke of that tongue with mine before I could stop myself.
An alarm bell was ringing somewhere in the back of my lust-fogged brain, reminding me that I was forgetting something, that I needed to pull away and take stock. I tried to listen, but the signal was faint. Every time I tried to decipher it, my senses found something new about the kiss to savour, my pussy clenched with the need for him to fill me and I lost myself anew.
He finally pulled back, leaving me breathless and yearning for more.
“Mia…” His voice was a low rumble, barely audible, and I knew he wasn’t merely speaking my name, but telling me again that I was his.
Most of me was just fine with that, but the respite brought reality crashing back down around me. “Fuck, I can’t keep screwing up on the job like this. Get off me.”
Though the words almost caused me physical pain, I knew I was right to say them. Not that that made it any easier.
Dean pinned my wrists above my head, the lust in his expression plain. “If I thought you really meant that, I would. Do you really mean it?”
I struggled, but all that achieved was to make him push against me more firmly, restraining me and letting me feel his growing hard-on simultaneously. I rested my forehead against his shoulder in surrender, tilting my hips forward to rub myself against him.
“Get off me.” I was saying one thing and giving him very definite signals that I wanted the complete opposite, which was something I’d usually frown upon. But I had the feeling Dean had played the resistance game before. From the slight widening of his eyes, I was right, and he recognised the signs that I wanted to play.
He exhaled shakily, releasing one of my wrists, but slammed it back against the wall as soon as I tried to move it. “You want me to let you go? Fight harder.”