Page 25 of Chic Steel

“No.”

“Why?” I demand. I want him to say it. Say why he didn’t fuck anyone with them when women would fall over themselves to be with him.

His hips jerk again, but I loosen my hold. He won’t get anything until he answers the question.

He makes a frustrated sound, looks me in the eye, and says, “Because I was waiting for you.”

A smile spreads across my face. “Good.” My grip tightens, and I move again, giving him what he wants as a reward. I squeeze the base and wrap an arm around his neck, and pull him to my height. “If it makes you feel better, I haven’t been with anyone who has piercings here.” I squeeze him again. “Haven’t been with anyone since I met you.”

“Really?” His voice sounds surprised, and he shifts his hands to my ass and lifts me to my toes.

“Really. So we can have the first together.”

“I haven’t been with anyone since you pierced this.” He takes my hand and presses it on his nipple and attacks my mouth in a drugging kiss, and I forget to keep up my movements, instead I yank him closer and thrust a hand through his hair.

Pull him close and suck on his lip, his tongue, anything I can reach. My hold’s loose around him—I’m too distracted byhis mouth trailing down my throat to keep it up—but he begins to thrust, which reminds me. I tighten my hold, careful of the piercings and the rings on my hand so they don’t chafe, and rub pre-cum over him. His head drops to my shoulder with a guttural groan when I brush the tip of his cock around the curved barbell.

“You ready for this, darling?” I ask, guiding his cock down and pressing it against my cunt. I roll my hips and feel the metal scraping delicately over my folds and nudging my clit. My fingernails dig into his arms, and my stomach clenches at the sensation.

“Fuck yes.” His eyes burn into me, mouth swollen from mine, and I can’t wait to feel him inside me. To feel the jewellery I decorated him with inside me.

“Go on. Put your cock inside me, Oliver,” I whisper.

His eyes are blown wide, and with a flush spreading across his cheeks, he slips a hand between us and grasps himself, bends slightly, and lines himself up at my entrance. He brushes my clit, causing my eyes to flutter.

“Wait,” I gasp as the head of his cock pushes inside me.

He stills instantly, hands clenched on my hips, not moving an inch. He tilts his head in question.

“Do it in front of the mirror so I can see. I want to see my jewellery decorating you. See it when you thrust inside me.”

He doesn’t move for a few seconds, just swallows harshly before whirling me around until my front faces the full-length mirror beside the door. My back presses against his chest and his chest hair tickles my back. I can see my clothes gathered around my ankles, his shirt stuck at his wrists with his hands resting on my hips.

We lock eyes in the mirror. My head barely reaches his chin, and my body doesn’t hide the red lipstick adorning his shoulders.

“You want to see your jewellery decorating me? See your claim on me while I thrust inside you, while I hold my hand over what’s mine?” His hand lands on my collarbones, touching the necklace he gave me, thumb brushing over the chain.

“Yes,” I groan. “Yes, do it.” I push my ass back into him.

“Stand on my shoes.”

I tilt my head until it rests on his chest. “Why?”

My eyes follow him in the mirror as his head ducks and his breath ruffles my hair. “So I can reach you better.”

I can’t control my shiver. Glancing at the clothes gathered around our feet, I lift one foot, and then the other onto his shiny shoes. My sneakers dent them but raise me enough that he gives me a satisfied nod.

Oliver slides his hand touching the necklace down until he cups my breast, lifts it and pinches my nipple between his fingers. “Put the dick you decorated inside your cunt. Watch as the barbells slip inside you. Watch as you claim what’s yours, what’s always been yours, Ella.”

Hearing him say that makes me arch back into him, and press my ass against his cock to feel everything against me.

“Watch,” I tell him and wait for his nod before I move.

Slipping a hand between us, I grasp him and position him between my legs so I can see everything in the reflection. The three barbells running up him and the second piercing I gave him, the curved barbell pointing at the mirror. Already between my legs and weeping at the tip, I can feel the heat radiating from him, can see his tense expression while he waits for me to guide him inside.

I hold him and run my hand up and down, watching his expression to see what he likes, watching my hand holding him as the jewellery is covered and revealed again.

He grunts. “If you keep doing that, you won’t have a chance to feel the jewellery inside you.”

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