I should have given her more credit, she’s constantly surprising me.
Smirking, I tell her what’s on my mind. “I’m sorry for treating you that way. I’m just nervous as fuck that I’ll los—” I stop myself, knowing it’s too much of a serious word. “That I’ll make you overly nervous.” One of her eyebrows shoots up, knowing that wasn’t what I was going to say, but she lets it go. “And to answer your question, it’s a regular Prince Albert.”
Her eyes stare intensely into mine, and I know the mention of it is turning her on.
She goes from lying on her back to facing me, causing her tits to press against one another.Fucking hell.
“What shape?”
I’m going to come in my pants from this conversation alone.
My voice is tight when I answer. “Captive bead ring.”
“Why that shape? Was it worth the pain?” Her hand captures my jaw, and she rubs a finger over the sensitive spot she’s gotten to know.
Stevie’s going to make me say it. “Yes, it was worth the pain. The sensation for my partners and me heightened after it, and the shape is the safest and most pleasurable.”
She bites her lip and looks at my cock that’s throbbing under my pants. “I want to see it.”
“Stevie…” I warn her. “I’m barely holding on by a thread here.” I’ve been edging myself all day. I never asked her for anything in return, and I never expected it. My priority is to please the person I’m with over myself.
“I’m not going to run,” she assures me.
Doing a quick assessment of her face, I see the truth written all over her delicate features.
“Okay,” I huff out. “But you pull them down.”
Her eyes light up as if I’ve just given her a car. I stifle a laugh, and every rational thought leaves me instantly when I feel her. I clench my jaw and close my eyes as her slender hand tugs my pants down, only showing the tip where my silver piercing pops out.
She lets out a small gasp, and my gaze shoots down, making sure she isn’t about to change her mind. What I find is the opposite. Her stare grows hungry, and she ever so slowly pulls the rest of my sweats down till they’re around my knees.
Stevie studies my dick as it twitches at the thought of her mouth around it. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to take that entire thing inside of my mouth.”
Suppressing another laugh, I tell her, “You’ll figure it out.”
She snorts. “I don’t have much of a gag reflex, so I think that should help.” Her shoulders lift.
“Fuuucckk.” I run my hands down my face, a drop of precum dripping down my cock. “What the hell are you doing to me?”
Her lips curve upward, and she lowers herself, studying the piercing. It takes all my motherfucking strength not to grab a fistful of her hair and push her mouth down.
My fists clench as Stevie’s tongue darts out, licking my tip next to the metal that’s inside my dick.
“Holy shit.”
Her mouth opens, and she takes the top in, swirling her tongue around the sensitive spot between the head and shaft,causing me to clutch the sheets and shake.Fuck, I can’t come yet.
“Is that okay?” she asks shyly. Her look has switched from cocky to vulnerable, it makes something in me ache. I know the asshole she used to be with probably told her otherwise, as another way to make her feel bad. To control her.
I stroke her cheek. “It’s perfect.”
Stevie shivers at my words, and I know I said exactly what both of us needed to hear. After that, any hesitation she had flies out the fucking door. Her lips wrap around me, and her throat bobs, her tongue swirling, her hand wrapping around my shaft. I groan at the feeling. My piercing moves around, only making everything more intense, and she looks so fucking amazing. There’s only one problem.
“Eyes on me,” I demand.
They fly open and she takes me in farther, moaning around me. I’m surprised I’ve managed to hold on this long. Her tits mimic the movement of her mouth, and fuck, I want to make her come again. “Keep going like that.” Her eyebrows turn inward as she whimpers. I know what she wants me to say. “You want to be a good girl for me?” She nods emphatically. “Then ride my face while you suck my dick.”
Stevie takes me out of her mouth, and I groan at the loss of it. “I’ve never sixty-nined before.”
