by Sybil Bartel
My smile dropped. “I noticed, but I’m about to change one of them.” Fuck, I wanted to kiss her again. I never kissed women. I fucked them, dominated them, then left. Cara was the exception and a total fucking mistake. Refusing to think about her anymore, I focused on the woman whose orgasms had become my mission objective. “Listen up, princess. You’re going to do exactly what I say.”
Her hand slid up my arm and her fingers curled into the hair on my chest. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes.” Sure and precise, I cupped her. “You are.”
Her body jerked and her lips parted with a gasp. “Shade.”
I stroked her through her clothes. “That’s my name, woman. Remember it,” I demanded, bringing my mouth to her ear again as I slid my hand down her pants. “Because you’re about to scream it out when I make you come.” Thumbing her clit, stroking through her already wet cunt, I shoved two fingers into her.
Her back arched, and her mouth opened with a gasp.
Fuck me she was tight. “You feel that?” I rubbed her G spot as I circled her clit.
“Oh my God.” She spread her legs as wide as she could with her pants still on.
Dragging my teeth over her neck, pumping my hand faster, I rubbed her harder. Then I bit her hard as fuck nipple through her shirt.
“Shade!”
“Come for me, princess.”
She went off.
MY LEGS SHAKING UNCONTROLLABLY, MY mind blown, my body was on fire.
The best kind of fire.
Better than any high I’d ever experienced, I didn’t simply come from his miracle fingers, I completely shattered.
Moaning, trembling, my mouth feeling too empty without his fingers or his tongue, I wanted more. So much more that I reached for what he’d been denying me since getting his hands on me. My fingers curled around his thick, hard length at the same time his hand locked around my wrist.
He groaned, but I gasped.
Then I went completely still.
“What is that?” I dared to ask.
“Hardware,” he gritted, pulsing in my hand.
“Hardware,” I repeated, trying to clear the orgasm induced haze from my mind as my thumb slid over a substantial ring and my fingers played across bars with ball shaped ends.
This wasn’t hardware.
Hardware was a store with plumbing parts and door handles.
Hardware was tools and screws and hammers.
Hardware wasn’t this.
“You’re pierced,” I blurted.
His hand tightened on my wrist. “Let go.”
Terrified, turned on, curious, recoiling, I released him. “What does it feel like?”
Pushing me to my back, he settled between my legs. “You’re not going to find out.”
Dark, hooded, his eyes were saying something different than his words.
“Why not?” I dared to ask.
His nostril flared with an inhale. “You’re too small and too inexperienced. It’ll feel like I’m ripping you to shreds.”
Fear spidered across my skin, but at the same time, a rush somersaulted my stomach and teased my nerves. Something I had never, ever considered suddenly became the single biggest thing I’d ever wanted. “I want to feel you.” A thread of doubt lowered my voice to a whisper. “Inside me.”
“Not happening.” He ground against me.
The bars I’d felt on the underside of his cock rubbed against my clit and, all at once, sensations both slightly painful and thoroughly taboo rocked through my body. I couldn’t help it, I groaned. Then I lost all inhibition and outright begged. “Please?”
“You ever been with someone pierced?”
“No.” I’d never even thought about it.
“Not happening.” He rolled off me.
Desperate, wanting to come again more than I wanted my next breath, I threw my leg over his, intending to straddle him, but he caught my thigh with his huge hand. “I said, no.”
“Why?”
“Give it a rest, woman.”
Okay, this was bullshit. “Why did you get pierced if you didn’t want to have sex?”
He snorted. “I never said I didn’t want to.”
“Then why not with me?”
His palm landed on my throat and his fingers curled around my neck. His dominance bleeding out, he stroked his thumb over my jaw and across my lips. Then he buried me with his quiet voice.
“My hardware would destroy that tight cunt, woman. I’m not going to hurt you.”
His palm hot on my throat, I swallowed against his firm hold and tried to ignore the swelling of my heart with the seed he’d just planted with his last sentence. “Go slow.”
“No.” His thumb dragged across my lips again, but this time harder.
Feeling his touch all the way to my core, desperate to have his body against mine, I slowly moved my leg over his.
His eyes locked on mine, he didn’t push me away.
My heartrate skyrocketed, my body hummed, and I practically wept with victory. Slow, praying he didn’t stop me, I crawled on top of him.
His nostrils flared and his cock pulsed but his hand remained firm on my throat.
Yearning to taste his dominance, my thighs stretched wide to accommodate his sheer size, desire grew between my legs, and I argued for more. “Say yes.”
His hand tightened but his eyes turned a thousand shades darker. “Don’t push me.”
“I think you like me pushing you,” I challenged. “I think you want someone who can keep up with you.”
“You think too much.” He ground his hips.
My eyes fluttered shut and I moaned before focusing back on him. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” I whispered.
It happened so fast, I wasn’t expecting it.
Flipping me on my back, shoving my shirt up, he came down so hard between my legs, I gasped. But then his mouth sealed over one of my nipples as his thick fingers found the other and he bit down.
A half scream, half groan got caught in my throat.
Rough and hard and hot, his tongue swirled around a nipple I was sure would be bruised tomorrow as my legs came up of their own accord. Digging my fingers into his unbelievably perfect ass, I ground my hips against him.
His mouth moved to my other nipple as he caught the one he’d just sucked between his fingers.
Need, more painful than any withdrawals I’d ever experienced, made me start to rock against him. Feeling like a zipper digging in when you dry-fucked a guy with pants on, his piercings rubbed against me through his boxers and my leggings. The sting of pain only making me more turned on, I gripped a handful of his hair and yanked.
His head came up, but he rocked into me. “You on the pill?”
Anticipation raced through my veins in the sweetest rush that was better than any high. “Yeah, but condom.” Air hissed through my teeth on a sharp inhale. “Oh my God, is it going to feel like this inside me?”
“No.” He ground his hips once more and pushed up.
“Wait.” I reached for his huge biceps. “Where are you going?” Did he change his mind?
“Nowhere.” He grabbed the hem of my shirt and tugged it over my head. “I don’t have condoms.” His fingers slid between the waistband of my leggings and my stomach as his eyes landed on mine. With a seriousness that was devastatingly carnal, his voice quieted. “You clean?”
His question, his fierce gaze, it shouldn’t have been hot.
But this dominant, controlling, beast of a bodyguard with a pierced cock, dark eyes, and an even darker expression was asking me if I had any STDs, and I couldn’t catch my breath. At the very least, him, this whole conversation, it should’ve been frightening. But the only thing I was afraid of in that moment was him stopping.
“I’m clean,” I promised.
“Same.” His hungry gaze swept over my breasts then he fisted the waist of my leggings. “Off.”
The tremor started in my core and radiated out as my cheeks flushed and my nipples harde
ned to the point of pain. I lifted my hips and he dragged the cumbersome material down my legs and tossed it aside.
Drinking in every inch of my naked body, he stood from the bed and grabbed himself through his boxers. “On all fours,” he demanded, the shade of his tone going deep and guttural.
Feeling the slickness between my legs as my core pulsed, I sat up, but I didn’t do what he commanded. I slid to the end of the bed and dropped my legs over the edge so I was eye level with his cock. “I want to see.”
Still holding himself, taking me in, he studied me for a long moment.
My heart raced, my hands shook and my mouth watered, but I waited.
I waited because I wanted him.
I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.
But I didn’t just want a taste of him. I wanted him to want me back as desperately as I was craving him. I wanted this to be more than a single fuck. I wanted him to want me not because I was the only woman with him in a cabin on a mountain in the middle of a blizzard, but because he was as frantic to taste me as I was him.
I wanted to drown in him and him in me.
I didn’t care if that was wrong.
I didn’t care how every counselor and shrink at rehab would’ve told me this was codependency and transference and whatever other crappy clinical term they could’ve thrown at me. I’d only known Shade hours, but I felt connected to him in a way I’d never felt before. And when he looked at me like he was now?
Oh my God.
This wasn’t teenage love or infatuation, there was something big here. I could feel it as sure as I could feel my pulse in my neck and my heartbeat in my ear. I wasn’t making this up. I knew I wasn’t.
A tangible connection threaded through my nerves and linked with all of my frayed edges the second he’d looked me in the eye in Jacksonville and told me his rules. I knew then there was something between us, just as I knew the very second he decided to go from observation to action.
Like an impending storm, the air shifted, his eyes darkened and he moved. Then he did what I’d seen him do every other time he decided to take action. With swift and sure movements, his muscles bunched and contracted. Then his boxers were off, but before I could look my fill, his merciless grip caught my jaw and he stepped between my legs.
My head tilted all the way back, my neck strained, captive in his grasp, I fought from moaning. Having a mind of their own, my hands braced on his rock-solid thighs, and I licked my lips.
His sharp gaze cut from my eyes to my mouth. “Did I say you could touch me, princess?”
I dropped my hands.
“Smart girl.” His voice deep, his gaze deeper, his thumb stroked over my lips, smearing the saliva I’d just left there onto my cheek. “Do you remember rule number two?”
Nerves rioted in my stomach as excitement stole my breath. “Yes.” It felt like a lifetime ago since he’d first picked me up.
“What is it?” he demanded.
I paraphrased, giving him the part I knew he wanted to hear. “What you say goes.”
Slow and calculating, he nodded. Then his voice dropped dangerously low and he gave me back the very words I’d given to him. “What I say goes.”
Turned on, freaked out, my skin on fire, excitement making me shake, I bit my bottom lip. I wanted him to take control more than I wanted my next breath.
His thumb hit my lip and he pressed hard. “Did I tell you to bite?” His reprimand swift, his voice harsh, his fingers dug into my jaw.
“No.” The tremble started in my legs.
“Open your mouth.”
The demand almost barked at me, I didn’t think. I opened.
His thumb ruthlessly pressed down on my tongue, but then he did the last thing I was expecting. He rubbed in a tight circle like he did on my clit. “When my cock is in your mouth, you won’t bite. When my metal touches the back of your throat, you won’t panic. When I tell you to relax your jaw, you’ll relax your jaw. Understood?” He slowly slid his thumb out.
Oh God. “Okay.”
“When my cock is wet and your cunt is wetter, I’m going to slide deep inside you.”
Oh my fucking God. “Okay,” I rasped.
“Then I’m going to fuck you.”
The tremor turned into a shake as desire leaked out of me and onto the bed. “Will it hurt?”
“Yes.”
I couldn’t swallow past the fear-lust storm circling my body. “Shade—”
“Remember you asked for this.” He leaned closer. “Because it’ll feel like I’m ripping you.”
Warning me, or just being honest, I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I wanted everything he was promising. Every inch, every thrust, every second he was willing to give me. Sealing my fate, I agreed. “Okay.”
“Open your mouth,” he ordered.
I DIDN’T WARN WOMEN OFF me.
I didn’t fucking cajole or prep or make apologies for my body modification. I embraced it because every piercing meant I was alive.
But this young as fuck woman was making me question every damn step I took, and I should’ve walked away.
Instead, I barked out a command. “Open your mouth.”
My hand on her jaw, her muscles flexed under my hold and the submissive little minx did exactly as I said.
My hard as hell cock pulsed in my grip and I brought the head to her mouth. “Tongue out,” I growled, eating up the visual of her small mouth next to my big dick.
Rubbing her thighs together, she shivered, then her tongue came out. Her eyes on me, she licked the underside of my cock.
Fuck me.
Squeezing myself, I rubbed across her bottom lip. “Wider.”
Submissive as hell, she complied.
I shoved the head in.
With a sharp inhale through her nose, her lips closed around me.
I watched the moment she found my reverse Prince Albert. Her eyes went wide and her tongue swirled around the eight gauge captive ring before she abruptly pulled back.
Shaking her head, she licked her lips. “No.”
“No what, princess?” I rubbed my cock against her chin. “Open.”
“That’s…” Her eyes strayed south.
I gripped her jaw tighter, forcing her to keep her gaze on me. “You trust me?”
“That’s a thick piercing.”
That was only one of them. “Open your mouth, princess.”
“Stop calling me that,” she whispered.
“Open, woman.” I stroked her cheek.
Her eyes closed at my caress and she leaned into it before giving me her baby-blues again. “I don’t think I can handle this.”
“You can.” She couldn’t. But I was already in so fucking deep, I wasn’t stopping now unless she told me to.
Like she couldn’t not touch me, her hands went to my thighs again. Soft, tentative, her fingers brushed across my skin as her nails teased. “It’s going to hurt.”
She didn’t ask it as a question, and I didn’t answer. Instead I gave her a promise that almost got me off more than my own damn release. “I’m going to make you come.” Right before I drove into her sweet cunt that I could smell from here. But before that happened, I selfishly wasn’t letting her get her eyes on my cock.
“Shade,” she whispered.
“Trust me.”
Her gaze was bold as fuck, but she bit her bottom lip again and there it was.
The dichotomy of her.
I couldn’t explain it, but I wanted to fucking own her. I wanted her innocence and submission in the bedroom, and I wanted the woman behind the brass to tell me to fuck off as she sat across from me at mealtimes. I wanted every goddamn thing about her, and it was fucking with my head.
With her sweet, submissive side, she gave me what I wanted. “Okay.”
I drove my cock into her mouth all the way to the first piercing on my Jacob’s ladder. My Reverse PA hit the roof of her mouth as my barbell rubbed across her tongue.
Her jaw closing,
she swallowed in fear.
Goddamn her mouth was tight. “Wider,” I commanded harshly, stoking my shaft. “Stay open.”
Her eyes welled and she gagged even though I wasn’t even halfway in, but she opened wider.
Fuck yeah. “That’s it.” Stroking her cheek, I eased in another couple inches and two more piercings brushed against her tongue. “Almost there, sweetheart, almost.” I hit the back of her throat before I was all the way in, but she was tonguing every one of my piercings. “You feel all that hardware?”
Sucking me, she barely nodded.
“That’s gonna be inside that tight cunt of yours. You ready for that?” Easing back a few inches, watching her cheeks hollow out, I wanted to come down her throat almost as much as I wanted to pound the fuck out of her.
She whimpered, and I pulled out of her mouth before I went off.
Grasping her chin, I held her eyes. “Last chance,” I warned. “Say no.”
Her throat moved with a swallow. Then she made the decision. “Let go of me.”
No hesitation, I dropped my hand.
Fucking disappointed, but not surprised, I didn’t move. I stood over her and took my fill of her huge tits and innocent eyes, locking away the image. One goddamn day and I knew. This woman wasn’t going to leave my head when the assignment was over.
She was going to linger.
Fuck, she’d linger. But I needed to leave this bedroom
Stepping back, I tipped my chin and gave her the goddamn truth. “Right decision.”
“Shade—”
“Stick with it, princess,” I warned, reaching for my boxers. Because God knew I wasn’t the one with any self-control here.
“I wanted to touch you.”
Boxers in hand, I froze.
Her breath coming faster, she got up from the bed and her tits swayed. “You touched me.” Her hand landed on my chest and her voice quieted. “I wanted to touch you.”
I fucking stood there. Mute.
Women didn’t touch my ink or my scars. I didn’t even fucking acknowledge my scars. The ink across my stomach was testament to that. I may have been wounded downrange, but I wasn’t scarred. I wasn’t fucking broken. I was a Marine.
I was still standing on my own legs.
Fuck the scars on my neck and shoulders.