Page 31 of Cage of Thorns and Blood

“Please, Matteo. Fuck me. Please give me your cock.”

“Where?”

“In my pussy. Fuck me. Shove it in me, and make me scream.”

And he does.

He grabs my legs, holds them wide, and pulls me forward on the ledge as he shoves into me with a grunt.

I cry out at the pleasure and twinge of pain as he pushes all those piercings into me.

“Like this?” he demands.

“Yes, please. Like that.”

He circles his hips and holy hell. Those piercings do things to me. They massage me with each thrust and make this an entirely different experience.

He sets a punishing pace. His wraps around my throat, his thumb brushing over my jaw, as he stares in my eyes. I can't take the intensity, and I break the eye contact first; I'm a coward when it comes right down to it.

His mouth claims mine again in a heated kiss that matches what our bodies are doing. He fucks me hard and fast, but then he slams in deep to the hilt and rests against me. He grinds against me, and holy hell those piercings really do their work now. This is a completely mind-blowing experience.

I can't hold out much longer, and when he reaches between us and presses his thumb against my clit, rubbing expertly, I explode.

Detonating around him, I turn my mouth away to suck in much needed air as I cry out my release. He swears, and his hips stutter as he finds his own moment of heaven.

I realize that we're both panting and sweating. I taste blood, and I lick my lip and am shocked to find that he bit me. He's still inside me, and as I raise my eyes to look at him, it's all too raw, and I feel vulnerable now that the aftershocks are fading and cold reality rushes in.

He looks away from me as he slides out of me, and I get the feeling that he's closing off. But then he stands back between my legs and wraps his arms around me as he tips my chin up and kisses me much more softly this time.

“You should charge for that service.” I laugh. I try to make light of the mind-blowing, knee-shaking orgasm he's just given me.

“Thank the piercer, not me.”

“Oh, if I ever meet him, I will.” I climb down from the vanity on shaking legs and gather my clothes around me.

“There's no rush,” he says. “We could always grab a shower or a bath and then take this into the bedroom.”

I glance down and see that he's already half-hard for round two. This is where my moment comes. My second little power play. I kiss him sweetly on the mouth.

“I can't, I'm afraid. I have things to do. But thank you for an amazingly mind-blowing time. We definitely will have to do this again.”

“You have things to do at almost midnight on Friday?” He scowls at me. His expression screams that he doesn’t believe a word of what I’m saying.

“Yes, I do actually. I'm running a small business. My family doesn't know much about it, and I’ve been keeping it on the downlow for now.” This isn’t entirely a lie. I have a lucrative little online store where I sell unusual jewelry sourced from around the world. I only buy from female producers, and I pay them more than their fair share, unlike many chain stores. I don’t talk about it to many people, though, and I don’t have to do Friday night Zoom calls, but Matteo doesn’t have to know that. “I have to do a lot of work with people in America, so this is a peak busy time for me.”

“It's evening time in America by now surely?”

“West Coast,” I say breezily. I pull my jeans up, panties already on. I hunt around underneath the vanity for my bra. I clasp it in place and shake my hair out and then run my finger around my lips, trying to clear up my smudged lipstick.

“I'll grab a cab,” I say. “I don't expect you to run me home.”

“Of course I'm fucking taking you home,” he practically snarls.

“Well, thank you, but I don't expect it. I take cabs all the time. It is perfectly safe.”

“One,” he says as he holds up one finger. “It is not perfectly safe. “Two.” His second finger pops up. “Letting you do the cab ride of shame is not on the cards.” His third finger joins the other two. “Three, I get the feeling you're running away, so I'm going to make sure I get to spend more time with you.”

“I'm not running away,” I tell him. I realize that I need to dial this cut and run act down a bit, or he might simply get bored and think I'm playing games. Worst case scenario, he might think I'm going to do something like I did when we were teenagers and bail on him in the worst way. By screwing his best friend. I smile at him and infuse it with as much warmth as I can. “I really do have some work this evening, and I'm also up early tomorrow for a horrendous hardcore session with my personal trainer.” That part is completely true. “It's easier for me to go home tonight, and I don't want to leave it too late, or I won’t get the work done.”

---