Page 40 of Virgin Skin

“I’m not going to insult you by asking if you’re sure you want this.”

I let out a shaky laugh and thrust my erection against his to answer the question he’s not asking. He makes a low, throaty sound that vibrates between us and makes my cock twitch.

“But I do need to know how you see this going. You said you’re a virgin, do you just mean you haven’t done anal?”

“This is such an embarrassing conversation.” I laugh again, glad for the darkness hiding the blush I can feel flooding my face.

He closes the inch between our mouths and nips at my bottom lip sharply. I gasp and he soothes his tongue over it. I open my mouth, desperate for more, wordlessly begging him to just kiss me again and make this whole thing simple. But he pulls back again instead.

“It’s anadultconversation,” he says firmly.

“Okay, but do we have to have it in the hallway?”

Piston chuckles. “Fair enough.”

I expect him to let me go, but instead, he tightens his grip and starts walking me backward. With each step, he brushes his mouth against mine teasingly, not quite kissing me. He backs me into his bedroom and flips on the light. I blink against the sudden brightness, then ghost my lips against his stubble-roughjaw. He doesn’t stop until the backs of my knees hit the bed and I tumble backward with an embarrassing, “Eep.”

He stands over me, a hungry look in his eyes as he gazes down at me splayed out on his bed. I can only imagine what I look like right now—my hair disheveled, my lips red and bitten, my jeans straining to contain my cock. My jockstrap is damp with precum, and even the feeling of my t-shirt dragging over my nipples is enough to make me breathe harder.

Piston grabs his shirt by the back of the collar and tugs it up over his head. I saw him nearly naked earlier after his shower, but I was too keyed up to reallylook. Honestly, I’m not doing a hell of a lot better now, but fuck, I want to spend hours studying every line of his tattoos and tracing my tongue over the dark circles of his nipples.

“I’m waiting, Mi.”

I blink, trying to catch back up to the conversation I clearly lost the thread on. Luckily, he sees the confusion written on my face and helps me out.

“How much of a virgin are you, and how do you see tonight playing out? I’ll give you as much or as little as you want, I just need to know where the line is.”

He lowers himself to the floor, on his knees between my legs.

“The most I’ve done with anyone is trading clumsy handjobs that were interrupted by the guy’s roommate before either of us could even finish,” I confess.

His eyebrows jump up and he pushes my shirt up to expose my stomach. Compared to him I feel pale, skinny, and oddly bare without a single tattoo. He rumbles a pleased sound in his throat though, holding my gaze as he traces a circle around my belly button with his tongue.

“So, no one else has ever made you gasp and pant, tasted the sweat on your skin and felt the vibrations of your moans as yourballs tightened and your cock spasmed?” He scrapes his teeth gently along the bottom edge of my rib cage and I tremble.

“Jesus, no. And no one’s ever talked to me like that either.”

I start to sit up, reaching for the buttons on his jeans. He catches my wrist, then snags the other, pushing both my hands over my head and blanketing me with his body. He presses me into the mattress with the solid weight of his body, his cock finding mine through our clothes again. I whine and roll my hips, the tip of my cock dragging through the growing wet spot in my underwear, my balls already pulling tight just like he promised.

“You have one more question to answer, sweet thing.” He leans in and flicks the tip of his tongue against my cheek, right where my dimple appears when I smile. “Tell me what you’re ready for and I’ll give it to you.”

I meet his gaze so he can see the trust and confidence in my eyes. I know he’s playing Captain Consent right now because I’m so inexperienced, but it’s like I told him before, it’s never been a moral thing or any kind of hang-up about my virtue. Maybe some part of me was waiting for the ‘right’ person, but that never meant it had to be aforeverperson. I don’t know what’s going to happen between Piston and me tomorrow, but I know what I want to happen tonight.

“Everything. Touch me, suck me, make me cum screaming on your cock.”

His breath catches, and even through our clothes, I can feel the way his cock pulses in response. His lips part on a groan and he descends on me with another hungry kiss.

Thank fuck the talking part is over. Not that I’m not all for a good conversation with Piston, but I’m out of brain power for words.

We move up the bed in a blur of wandering hands and deep, breathless kisses. We tug at each other’s clothes, only breakingthe kiss long enough for me to get my shirt over my head and fling it away blindly. Our jeans follow, awkwardly shed as we both kick and writhe out of them, refusing to untangle our tongues again to make it any easier.

The heat of his bare cock drags against the inside of my thigh and there’s something unexpected about it that’s finally enough incentive for me to stop kissing him and get a better view. I gulp air into my burning lungs, running my hands greedily over his chest and abs as I look between us.

“Fuck,” I murmur.

PISTON

I rock against the crook of his thigh, Milo’s hard cock dragging against my stomach, leaving slippery streaks of precum on my skin. His eyes widen as he looks between us, and I grin. He drags his hand down my belly, stopping just short of touching my cock.

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