Page 24 of Chic Steel

Oliver keeps his eyes locked with mine, the pressure and movement unchanged, and then his other hand lifts and he rubs a thumb slowly across my nipple. The jewellery moves pleasantly and causes a matching tug right where he’s pushing the seam of my jeans against my clit. I glance at his chest and see my red lipstick staining him, and I’m done for.

I groan and yank him down to me so I can kiss him through the pleasure rolling through me. His tongue thrusts against mine, urging me further over the edge, and I pull away and gasp for breath.

“I wasn’t expecting that.” I brush my thumb on his bottom lip and he sucks it inside his mouth, the tug and swirl of his tongue causing aftershocks to ripple through me.

He shrugs. “I wanted to make you feel good. To stop thinking about things that don’t matter.”

I smile and tug him into a hug, the red lipstick on his chest transferring to mine, the hair on his chest rubbing on my nipples. “Well, you succeeded.”

“Now the question is, do you want to stay here and continue, finish watching the game, or leave and come to mine?” His hand runs up and down my vertebrae.

I glance at the door. Go home and have sex with Oliver in a bed, or do it in his fancy bathroom with his coworkers on the other side of the door after one of them thought I wasn’t good enough for him? Tough question.

“Let’s stay here and continue.” I drag a hand down his chest and brush against his trousers. “I haven’t done anything for you yet.”

“You don’t need to. Only if you want to.”

“I do.” I drag his zip down and push the trousers to gather at his feet, but before I do anything interesting he pulls away.

He kneels in front of me, lips pressing against my stomach and tongue darting out to lick my hipbone. Oliver’s hands wait at the button of my jeans, a question in his eyes, and when I give him my nod of consent, he releases the button and drags the zip open.

“How is this helping me do something for you?” I ask, my stomach tensing when he licks across my pubic bone.

“I’m helping you undress.” He gives my jeans a tug, but unless I raise my hips or stand up, they won’t be going anywhere.

Oliver tugs enough to reveal the top of my curls, but I stop him. “I’m not sitting on the vanity with my bare ass.”

He gives up trying and laughs. “Why not?”

“Because it’s cold! Standing will be easier.” I nudge him out of the way and hop off the vanity. I push my jeans and underwear off, and my top slithers past my hips, until I’m standing before him naked, with my clothing around my ankles.

He blows out a slow breath, and his eyes trail down my body and up again, catching on my piercings before focusing on myface. I smirk and raise my brows, giving a pointed look at his boxers.

He gets the message and hooks his fingers in the elastic and shoves them down to pool around his ankles with his trousers.

I bite my lip and suck in a breath. There it is. All my decorations, and his hard work healing them properly.

The metal gleams in the light. He’s erect and straining towards his stomach, and I can see everything. His Jacob’s ladder, the placement carefully decided by me, is on display for me. The three barbells strategically placed to look aesthetic and give pleasure to both parties have smaller and flatter balls holding the barbells closed to avoid discomfort for anyone. His Prince Albert in the thick curved barbell I chose, pointing at me. Pierced by me.

His cock is mine.

And I have the decoration to prove it.

If anyone saw it, they sawmy work, my decisions, my jewellery. They saw me. They just didn’t know it.

He’s mine. Just like I’m his.

I twist the necklace around my throat and take a step towards him. My hand drops, and I drag a hand down his chest, down his stomach, and grasp him. I give a slow pump, eyes locked with his dilated ones, and he groans and jerks in my hand. My hand brushes over the metal, slow and gentle; he’ll be more sensitive because of it, but I do it again, and again, and swirl my thumb over the curved barbell.

His eyes flutter. “Holy fuck.”

I giggle and raise an eyebrow at his contorted facial expression. “I barely touched you. You remember the piercings make you more sensitive, right?”

He groans and pants. “Yes, but I haven’t been with anyone since getting them. Only used my hand. Having you touch me is different.”

My hand flexes on his cock involuntarily, and he jerks froward. He hasn’t been with anyone since the piercings? I would be his first with piercings? I swallow hard and press a hand on his chest, on top of the barbell and the red surrounding it. He keeps proving to me that I’m his, in multiple different ways. Can’t believe I was worried about not fitting in. No way is he ever getting rid of me.

“You’ve never had the pleasure of having your piercings warmed by a cunt before?” I ask, giving my hand a twist, watching his hips twitch in response.

---