I run my fingers furiously through his hair and claw at his broad shoulders and, finally, when I can’t contain my fervor any longer, I grip his hair and pull his face off my nipple and lean down and return the favor, swirling one of his unbelievably hot nipple piercings in my mouth. Oh, God, this is heaven on earth. Why the hell did I think I had to be in a committed relationship to do this with a man? I was a freaking fool.
Ryan slams me against the wall again and yanks my undies to the floor, and the next thing I know, he’s kneeling before me, his large hands gripping my ass like it’s a life preserver thrown to a drowning man, his warm, wet mouth voraciously consuming my throbbing clit.
Sweet Mary and Joseph. I’m rapidly coming undone.
A weird sound escapes my throat—good lord, I’m cooing like a mutant dove possessed by the devil.
Ryan moans from between my legs. “Come for me,mind-fucker,” he whispers. “Come on, baby.”
He slides his fingers deep inside me while his tongue continues its glorious assault on my clit, and my body clenches sharply, just once, around his fingers.
“That’s it, mind-fucker,” he says. “Come on, baby. Oh, God, I’m so fucking turned on.” He increases the intensity of his fingers’ and tongue’s movement, and, suddenly, it’s like he’s turned up the flames on my gas grill.
I grip Ryan’s hair violently and smash my crotch into his hungry mouth, all manner of crazy-ass sounds and exclamations and expletives spewing from my mouth.
“That’s it, sociopath,” he murmurs. “Oh, God, you taste good.”
My skin pricks.
My toes curl.
Heat floods my crotch.
My abdomen burns.
And that’s it.
A tsunami of pleasure rips through me, a torrent of deliciousness that makes every freaking muscle enveloping Ryan’s hand wrench and twist and clench.
I throw my head back into the wall, completely enraptured—oh, thank you, Jesus! After a full year without this exquisite sensation, I’m suddenly certain I can’t go another day without it, ever again.
In a flash, Ryan’s lips are on mine and we’re groping and gasping and kissing like our lives depend on it. I reach into his briefs, desperate to stroke him, and when I grip his massive erection, much to my shock, my fingers meet with an unexpected sensation:a tiny loop of metal at the base of his dick.
My hand freezes.
“I’m pierced,” he whispers hoarsely. He peels off his briefs and tosses them onto the floor and I’m treated to the vision of Ryan Morgan in all his naked glory: insane muscles, sexy tattoos, pierced nipples (oh my God!), and an exceptionally large dick that’s... yup...piercedat the spot where his penis meets his torso.
I stare at Ryan’s pierced hard-on for a very long beat, my heart and clit pounding with equal force.Wow. His piercing is a thin metal ring about the size of a quarter with a small metal ball at its center arc. Fascinating. I’ve never seen a dick piercing before, actually, and have never had any particular curiosity to do so. But, now that I’m seeing Ryan’s, I must admit, it’s hella sexy. He’s a work of art, from head to toe—and from arms and chest to nipple to dick. I let out a shaky breath, blood flooding my crotch. “Did that hurt?” I ask.
Ryan’s practically gasping for air. “When I got it? No, not too bad. And any pain was well worth it.”
“Because it heightens your pleasure?”
He smiles like a shark. “No, sweetheart. Because it’s gonna heighten yours.” With that, he grabs his pants off the floor, fishes into his pocket, and pulls out a foil packet—and, ten seconds later, he’s looking up from his condom-covered erection, a look of white-hot desire on his face. “I’ve waited so long to get inside you.”
I make a face like he’s full of shit. “Yeah, I’m sure the ten minutes it took for me to walk from the lobby to your room was excruciating for you.”
His eyes darken. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Without warning, he turns me around, presses me into the wall, and grips my hair, his body hulking over my backside.
I gasp, utterly shocked at my unexpectedly vulnerable position—and how much I like it.
He leans into my ear and whispers, “You’re a mind-fucker. You know that?”
Maybe I should be scared right now at his flash of rage toward me, but I’m not at all: the only thing I’m feeling right now is excitement... and a sudden desire to twist the knife. “Little white lies,” I grit out, straining against his grip on my hair. “It was a victimless crime, asshole. At least I’m not a lying, cheating sack of shit like you.”
He grips my ass and leans into my ear and I feel his erection poking my ass. “You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about, you fucking sociopath.” He slides his hand between my legs and begins caressing me and my body seizes with pleasure. “Were you even gonna show up for dinner the next night?” he whispers. “Or was standing me up part of the fun?”
I open my mouth to reply, but a groan comes out instead. Oh, man, I don’t know what he’s doing down there between my legs—nobody’s ever touched me quite like this before—but, damn, it feels amazing. “Fuck you,” I whisper. “If anyone’s a sociopath, it’s you, fuckboy.” Oh, God, his hand between my legs is magical. And I must admit I’m digging this hatred-thing we’ve got going on right now. It’s sick as fuck—but damn near the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.
