“Do they bring you pleasure?” I ask, teasing the metallic balls I can feel under the latex.
“The apadravya, yes. Some.”
“And the others?”
“The others aren’t for me, red.”
My walls pulse at the thought. I shouldn’t be so ready to have him, not with the way I just orgasmed. But I lost touch with reality long ago, which is probably why I use my hold on him to align his head with my awaiting opening.
“Should we count them together?” he suggests, his hand replacing mine. My throat swells with a stuck breath when he teases my folds, dragging his round head up and down, the ends of the largest piercing adding to the sensation. Then, before I can beg him to get on with it, he presses into my slit.
The first bar of steel—the largest one—enters, and I can already understand its appeal. Then, a full inch sinks into me, and while he’s thicker than anything I’ve ever welcomed, I’m too wet and aroused to find it uncomfortable.
“One,” he grunts, pausing. Displaying an unexpected amount of restraint, he pushes further, enough to pass another piercing. “Two.”
My hips jolt forward, compelled by an unstoppable spasm, and more of him disappears into me.
“Fuck,” he swears, as surprised as I am. “Well, three and four, then.”
He leans on a single elbow so his hand can still me. Seconds stretch, and I’m going half-mad by the time two more piercings enter me. There’s one left, but I’m not sure it’ll fit. I feel fuller than I ever have, my walls distended to their limits by his thickness.
Unhurriedly, he pulls out, the piercings rippling against my walls as he does. I don’t expect it when he punches back into me, but before I can even gasp in surprise, he mutters, “Seven,” right into my ear.
There. The reason why I’m here is officially accomplished. I’m trying a Jacob’s ladder. I’m experimenting, being audacious and bold. I’m not so boring now, am I?
“Fuck, red… I’ve been wondering if you were as tight as you’re uptight. You so fucking are.”
That makes my cheeks burn while I quiver around him. He draws out for a tentative thrust, and I feel his large jewel drag against my front wall. It feels amazing. Those mutilations I couldn’t fathom now make sense. This is an upgrade, and the pain it must have caused him is worth it—on my end, at least.
When I stretch my neck up, he gets my silent demand and kisses me. His tongue enters me, mimicking what’s going on between us. He’s slow, but I can feel the tension of his muscles under my coursing hands. He’s holding back, mindful of my lack of practice.
“Harder,” I beg into our kiss, bringing my knees higher onto his sides to be more open. “And faster.”
I swallow his crude curse, welcoming the increased pace and intensity of his thrusts.
It’s clear that he knows precisely how female anatomy works. The rolls of his hips are sinuous, deep, and firm. Every time he rams into me, not only do the metal balls drag on my walls, but his base also slams onto my overworked clit, adding to the sensations. With his earlier ministrations, I’m way too receptive to these thrusts, and my oversensitive flesh feels raw, its nerve endings on fire.
This feels like nothing I’ve ever known before. It’s like sex is a hundred times better than it ever was, like I’ve experienced it from behind a veil until now. But it’s not just the piercings, even though they make this extraordinarily unique. It’s him, Ladder Guy, the cocky, overconfident, rebellious man currently plowing into me. It’s the tattoos between us every time I look down. It’s his stupidly attractive face, his whole aura. He’s what makes it so terribly amazing.
In fact, it’s all so shockingly incredible that I end up exploding again, way too soon after my last climax.
“Aah, Jake! Yes!” I shout, ravaged by my orgasm. My walls clench and spasm, squeezing him and the jewels, shivers making my body jolt beneath his.
“Shit, red, I—Fuck!” he mutters. His thrusts lose their pointed precision, and the roar he can’t quite contain tells me why. My climax took him by surprise and triggered his. My arms and legs hold onto him tightly as he punches into me with intensity. He’s as lost in bliss as I am.
His grunts in my ear while his body tremors propel my orgasm to even greater heights.
Hana was right. Oh, God. She was so right. Great sex is worth everything.
Chapter Eight
Jake
It’s like the cum surgingout of me is bone marrow. Every rope of it that spurts into the condom feels like lava, searing, thick, and coming from my very core.
What is it with this woman? I can’t get enough of her moans, cries, and sighs. And when she begs, whimpering my name, I feel like a conqueror. I suspect it’s because she’s so stuck up and formal outside of this bed. There’s something about knowing that I turned her into this needy and desperate mess that flatters my ego.
That’s why the foreplay lasted so fucking long. I couldn’t get enough of her supplications, of her sweet moans and cries, of the way she arched and writhed. In those moments, I owned the proper little Miss Kensington. But by the time I was balls deep into her, I was already too far gone.
