Page 23 of Chic Steel

That he doesn’t care what I do as long as I’m happy. That we’re together and nothing can take him from me.

Red catches in his chest hair, and when I wrap my mouth around the jewellery and swirl my tongue across it, his stomach tenses and shudders. His hand threads through the short strands of my hair, sifting through it, and sweeping it away from my face. I bite the metal gently and tug. He sucks in a breath, his hand tightens in my hair, and I shift away from the jewellery and kiss across his chest to his other nipple, without my metal decorating him.

“I need to fix this,” I say, rubbing a thumb over his bare nipple, teasing it to harden.

His hands run down my neck and arms and back up again. Like he’s incapable of not touching me, of not moving his hands over my skin. “Fix what?”

“It’s not balanced. He needs a friend.” My other hand fingers the barbell, and I can feel his heart racing against my fingers.

He snorts. “He needs a friend?”

I gasp. “We could have matching ones! It would be our secret.”

He shuffles closer and fingers the straps of my silk top. “Do I get to see the infamous cherries I’d be matching to?”

My breath stutters, and my mouth goes dry, but I nod.

Red is smeared on his chest and across his face as his fingers slip under the straps and slide them down my arms, eyes never leaving mine. The straps catch on my elbows, and I untangle myself from the top to free my arms. His eyes finally dart down, and his body sways into mine, his teeth dent his lip, and his hands rub back and forth on my shoulders like he’s attempting to keep them from drifting.

“Touch me.”

His hands lift from my shoulders and hover over my breasts, nipples peaked and straining towards him. Silver cherries glinting in the light.

I tilt my head. “You don’t want to?” I’d be surprised if he didn’t want to after asking to see them.

His throat bobs. “What if I hurt you? What if the barbell catches and I rip it out? What if?—”

I attempt to hide my satisfied smile that he worried about me. “Did it happen when I sucked this?” I rub his barbell between my fingers, and he sucks in a breath.

“No.”

“So don’t worry about it. Just be gentle and don’t yank them.”

His hovering hands finally meet flesh and I push into them. His warm hands surround me, squeezing gently, lifting slightly, and brushes a thumb across the jewellery.

“Harder. I got them pierced because they aren’t sensitive.”

He hesitates, but when I nod at him, he rubs harder and I gasp, jerking closer to him. My hands fly to his biceps and clench, nails dig into flesh, the red stark against his skin.

His eyes brighten before a look of intense concentration clouds them. Head ducking, he wraps his lips around my left nipple and swirls his tongue around the jewellery like I did for him.

I moan.

A fast learner. His teeth nip and tug at my nipple before he swirls his tongue around it again. And again.

My legs around his waist tug him closer. One hand grips his hair, the other scratches up his back, urging him on.

I wriggle on the vanity. “Keep doing that.”

He moves to the other nipple, leaving a wet trail behind to cool in the air. I jump when he bites down, but melt into him when he sucks and licks, his other hand fingering his necklace around my throat.

It’s one thing to claim him and have visual proof of it. It’s another for him to claim me.

His hand slides from the necklace, down my chest with a gentle brush against my nipple, and down my stomach to land on jeans. Oliver’s thumb brushes past the zip and finds the seam of my jeans like he did in his office. I gasp and shudder on the vanity.

He glances at me and lifts his head from my nipple with a pop. His thumb drifts lower and lower, and then hepresses.

I moan and my head falls back, knocking against the mirror, but I don’t care. He keeps the pressure consistent and rubs back and forth, remembering what I liked yesterday. My hips roll uncontrollably and my eyelids are heavy, but I manage to keep them open to see his face. His staring at me, head tilted to look into my eyes. My breath ruffles his hair, and I make a whining sound when the heat coils tighter in me, and my legs release his hips to bang against the cupboards below the vanity.

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