“Can I touch it?”
“Porca miseria, gattina. Sarai la fine di me e del mio cazzo,” I grind out in Italian.Fucking hell, kitten. You are going to be the death of me and my cock.
“What was that?”
“I said you can touch me anywhere.”
I hiss as one of her warm hands wraps around the base of my cock to steady it, while the other slides up my shaft. Her fingers stroke the sensitive skin around the two steel ball bearings protruding vertically through the broad head of my dick.
“When did you get this?” Her voice cuts through the ironclad concentration I need to not come in her soft hands.
Like a masochist, I open my eyes to watch as Savannah explores my body. “When I signed my first professional contract with the Saints.”
“So then Charlotte—”
“Stop. She has no place in our bed, Savannah. You’re the one with my cock in your hands. It’s just you and me. No one else. I know you have a hundred questions. I would too if it were me, but just know all of this”—I wave my hand over my body, alluding to my tats and piercing—“didn’t happen until after college. I am not the same man.”
“Okay.” The orange flecks in her irises sparkle as we lock gazes.
She enjoyed hearing that. Knowing there is a piece of me that’s only hers.
I’d give her all of me if she’d let me. Someday.
“May I ask why the piercing?”
Even though I would rather keep this to myself, I promised Savannah full transparency. “You’re going to run away screaming when I tell you. And I just got you to sleep in my bed.”
Savannah smiles. “Please, I promise I won’t run away.”
“Are we done with the show portion of this conversation?”
“Sure.”
In a quick move, I grab her around the waist and flip her onto her back. With my dick still out and my boxers wrapped aroundmy thighs, I roll on top of her and grip her hands in one of mine, raising them over her head in a firm hold.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asks.
“Preventing you from running away when I tell you.”
“I said I wouldn’t run away.”
“Gattina.” I glare at her. No way in hell do I believe her. I feel like she’s still trying to come up with reasons to walk. Don’t think I can let her do that. Not now.
“Okay, fine. I might,” she admits. “But I’ll try not to. Now tell me why you got your cock pierced.”
My dick jerks in response to her talking about the big fella. “Don’t say cock.”
She lifts her head and whispers “cock” before kissing me and lying back down on the bed.
“Such a brat.”
Savannah grins. “You like it. Now keep going.”
I really do fucking like it. Like her. Which is why I tell her, “I’ve never told anyone this before, but I got my dick pierced because I wanted to concentrate solely on baseball my rookie year in the league. I knew I would over-indulge in the women who threw themselves at me at hotels and clubs. That shit leads to getting in unpleasant situations with women who are more interested in being a WAG than anything else.”
I search her eyes as she quietly mulls over the information I just relayed. She shocks me by asking, “How long did it take to heal?”
“The entire season.”
