rip my T-shirt over my head, tossing it at the mirror. Next, I move to toe off my boots, and then shove my jeans down my hips. I’m moving too fast and my hands get caught in the material as I try to be rid of it all. Her mouth parts, her chest rising and falling quickly as she watches my unsexy show of discarding my clothes.
Gazing at her like this, finally naked before me, has me taking stock in our differences. We’re opposites. For starters, the woman doesn’t have a tattoo or piercing in sight. I, on the other hand, am covered in ink and have a variety of piercings. Hell, even my cock is pierced. I’ve got one on the top and one on the bottom. I like covering all my bases when it comes to pounding a pussy the right way. I hope hers is ready for me, I’m about to change her outlook on sex forever.
Chapter 9
What matters most is how well
you walk through the fire.
- Charles Bukowski
“I-is that really a piercing down there?” I can’t help but ask. I swear if his length gets any bigger than he is now, he may not fit. Am I really doing this right now? I haven’t had a moment to stop and think, one second he was texting, and the next he was ripping my clothes off. I’ve never had this kind of explosive chemistry with someone before, and it’s overwhelming. I barely know this man, yet it’s been a whirlwind of sexual attraction and tension building up between us.
He flashes an arrogant grin. “Yeah, my cock’s pierced. Up top and down below.”
Sweet Jesus. And his nipples are pierced as well. He’s a canvas of art and metal, everything I’m not and everything I’ve never had before. I’ve never wanted someone so badly either. I can feel the moisture gathering between my legs, pooling like I’m a sex starved maniac. It’s rather embarrassing, to be frank. I’m insanely turned on, and there’s no way I can hide it if he touches me.
“You’re huge,” I breathe.
He nods, taking a step closer. He’s a hair’s width away from touching me, his cock on my belly. “I’m called Ripper for a reason, Gem. I thought you knew as much.”
I shake my head. I thought I had a clue, but I had absolutely no idea. Sure, grinding on him yesterday let me feel him through his pants, but it was nothing in comparison to seeing him in his full glory. He must make men wither away in shame when he uses a public restroom.
“The piercings will help soothe the ache. You just let me fuck you like I know how you need it, and you’ll survive.”
A squeak escapes me. It was meant to be a whimper, but it didn’t quite make it that far. I’m in so far over my head with this man, yet I can’t help it. No matter how much I try to fight the pull between us, it just never stops. His finger goes to my chin, holding it in place as he leans in. He tenderly brushes his mouth against mine—once, twice, three times—before winking. He doesn’t even have to ask. I’m putty in this man’s hands, willing to let him do whatever he wants. Yet, he waits for my consent, and I offer it with a tilt of my head. Any more of his delicious torture and I’ll be begging for his touch.
It’s the breaking point for him, and in my next breath, he’s hauled me up in his arms. It takes everything in me to keep quiet. He lifts me as if I’m nothing, my legs wrapping around his strong hips like they’re used to doing this very thing with him. With one hand holding me firmly to him, he uses the other on the shower wall to step inside. Thankfully, this place has a separate garden tub, or we may’ve fallen and thrown out our backs. Though, with Ripper, I doubt he ever allows something so trivial to get in his way of fucking.
The warm spray hits me from the side as I’m pressed up against the far wall. Ripper’s mouth goes to my throat, nipping and sucking, hitting all the ultra-sensitive places I never realized I had. He makes me feel like a fish out of water, and I’ve had sex several times over the years, yet it’s all new with him. “Oh, God,” I moan.