Page 84 of Ruthless

I heard the snap of a cap opening, then the slick sound of liquid being poured. His slick fingers traced the cleft of my ass before circling my entrance teasingly.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he said, the tip of one finger pressing against me but not yet breaching. "How manynights I spent watching you through my scope, imagining you spread out for me just like this."

The admission, combined with the slight pressure of his finger, drew a desperate sound from me. My hips shifted, trying to press back against him, seeking more.

"Patience, doc," he chided, his free hand pressing down on the small of my back, holding me still. "We do this my way. Remember?"

"Yes," I gasped, forcing myself to stay still despite the desperate need building inside me.

"Good boy." The approval in his voice sent a rush of pleasure through me that almost embarrassed me with its intensity.

Finally, blessedly, he pressed one finger inside me, the intrusion careful but insistent. I moaned at the sensation, body tensing briefly before relaxing to accept him.

"That's it," he encouraged, working his finger deeper. "Take it. Take me."

He took his time, preparing me methodically but efficiently. One finger became two, then three, each addition stretching me further, sending sparks of pleasure radiating outward. By the time he deemed me ready, I writhed, begging shamelessly.

"Please, Luka," I gasped as his fingers found my prostate. "I need you. Now."

"I know exactly what you need," he replied, his voice rough with desire as he withdrew his fingers. I heard the rustle of clothing, then the distinctive sound of a zipper being lowered. My breath caught in anticipation.

"Turn over," he commanded. "I want to see your face when I blow your mind with my magic pierced dick."

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me even as I complied eagerly, rolling onto my back. "Magic pierced dick?"

"Hey, you're the one who called it a fidget toy," he retorted, his hands guiding my legs apart, positioning himself between them. "I'm upgrading the branding. Marketing is important, doc."

Though I couldn't see him, I registered the heat of his body hovering over mine, the brush of fabric against my skin telling me he remained partially clothed.

"Maybe we should get business cards made," I suggested, then gasped as I felt the blunt pressure of his cock against my entrance. The first hard ridge of metal made me lose my train of thought.

"You were saying?" He sounded smug.

"Shut up and fuck me."

"So bossy," he teased, but I heard the strain in his voice as he held himself back. "Ready?"

"Yes," I breathed. "God, yes."

He pushed in slowly, the first piercing breaching me with a strange, not unwelcome sensation. I groaned at the stretch, at the perfect fullness as he kept up his careful advance. Each metal ridge sparked a new point of pleasure as it entered me.

When he was fully seated inside me, he paused, giving me time to adjust.

"You feel fucking incredible," he murmured, voice tight with restraint. "Like you were custom made for my cock."

"Maybe your cock was custom made for me," I countered breathlessly. "Given all the... customization."

He laughed, the sound vibrating through both our bodies. "Fair point. Think of me as your personalized pleasure delivery system."

"Customer service is outstanding so far," I managed, then moaned as he shifted his hips slightly.

"Just wait for the full-service package," he promised.

His hips began to move, establishing a rhythm that hit every perfect spot inside me. Each thrust dragged those metal bars against my prostate, creating sensations so intense I couldn't form coherent thoughts. My vocabulary was reduced to single syllables and expletives, fingers clawing at the sheets.

His hand wrapped around my cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. The dual stimulation had me spiraling toward the edge embarrassingly quickly. My brain scrambled like static on an old TV, the signal of rational thought lost in overwhelming pleasure.

"Luka," I gasped, a warning that I neared the edge.

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