“I beg to disagree,” I say, leaning over to place a soft kiss on his cheek. He tries to capture my lips, but I turn to kiss his jaw instead. “I can make a very compelling argument. In fact, my argument is getting very compelling right now.”
His breath catches and his fingers press harder against my skin.
“Pierce,” I breathe. “I need you to finish what you started this morning.”
He snaps. He fucking snaps so deliciously, pulling me into a demanding kiss. His hand cups my jaw while his mouth is hard against mine, like he wants to fuse us together.
I try to deepen the kiss—I fucking want to crawl insidethis man—when suddenly, Pierce is flipping us, his hands firm on my hips as he rolls me beneath him on the couch. The weight of him pressing me into the worn cushions makes me gasp, and he swallows the sound with his mouth.
“God, Thatcher,” he breathes against my lips, his hands already working at the hem of my T-shirt. “I need to see you.”
I lift my arms, letting him pull the fabric over my head before his mouth is on my chest, leaving trails of fire across my skin. His hands are everywhere, tracing the lines of my tattoos, mapping the planes of my torso like he’s memorizing every detail.
When his fingers reach the waistband of my joggers, he pauses, eyes meeting mine in question. I nod eagerly, lifting my hips to help him slide the fabric down my legs, along with my underwear.
The moment I’m exposed, Pierce goes completely still. His breath catches as he takes in my piercing, the silver ring on the underside of my cock where the head meets the shaft, glinting in the lamplight.
“Fuck, Thatcher.” His voice is rough with want.
“Is it…okay?” The question comes out more nervous than I intended. I’ve had mixed reactions before, and suddenly, Pierce’s opinion matters more than anyone else’s ever has.
His response is wordless but unmistakable. His mouth is on my cock immediately, his tongue exploring the metal with a reverence that makes me arch off the couch. The sensation is incredible. Pierce’s warm mouth combined with the way he plays with the piercing, tugging gently with his tongue.
“Jesus,” I gasp, my hands fisting in his hair. “Pierce, that’s…”
He hums around me, the vibration sending shockwavesthrough my entire body. My cock is long and thin, curving upward. If I’ve ever felt self-conscious about not being as thick as some of the men I’ve been with, the way Pierce worships it with his mouth puts all doubts to rest.
I’m already close when Pierce pulls back, his lips swollen and eyes dark with want. “What do you need, Thatcher?”
“Finger,” I manage, barely coherent. “I need?—”
He doesn’t need me to finish. His hands are already moving, pulling my sweatpants down as far as they can go without taking them off completely. He kisses a trail down my thighs even as his hand reaches up to my mouth. I take his fingers eagerly, sucking them until they’re slick.
The first touch of his wet finger against my hole makes me cry out, my back arching as he circles the sensitive skin. He takes me back in his mouth at the same time, the dual sensation overwhelming in the best possible way.
“Pierce,” I moan, one hand still tangled in his hair while the other grips the arm of the couch. “Fuck, I’m so close…”
He hums again, the sound vibrating through me as his finger presses deeper, finding that spot that makes me see stars. The combination of his mouth on my cock and his finger inside me is too much.
“I’m gonna—” The warning dies in my throat as my orgasm crashes over me, Pierce swallowing everything I give him while his finger continues its gentle movement.
“You’re way too good at that,” I pant when I can finally speak again, my body still trembling from the aftershocks.
Pierce crawls back up my body, his lips finding mine.
“Your turn,” I breathe against his mouth, already pushing his sweatpants down. “Thank you god for sweatpants.”
He laughs. “You mean, ‘Thank you, Pierce, for being so wound up about me that clothes were an afterthought?’”
It’s my turn to laugh. “I vote for clothes always being an afterthought.”
Even though I just came, seeing Pierce above me, his hair mussed and lips swollen from what he just did, has heat pooling in my stomach again.
I free his cock from his underwear, wrapping my hand around him. He’s already hard and leaking, and when I take us both in my grip, the contrast between us—his smooth skin against my metal—makes me gasp with pleasure.
“I need you to come in my mouth,” I tell him. He nods, pupils blown wide. “Tell me when you’re close.”
“So close already,” he admits, and I can feel the truth of it in the way his cock pulses in my hand.
