Page 64 of The Cruelest Kind of Hate
When girls see that I’m pierced, they’re either all for it or all against it. Each sexual experience differs from person to person. For some, the piercings enhance everything. For others, it’s uncomfortable.
She drinks in a centering breath, closing her eyes for a briefsecond, then opening them again. “No, you don’t need to do that, Gage.”
“I want you to be as comfortable as possible, Cali. We don’t have to do this.”
She shakes her wavy locks, which have lost some of their volume from me combing my fingers through them like a cracked-out raccoon. “It’s not that, it’s…” She trails off, chewing on her lower lip self-consciously.
Her voice becomes small. “Will it hurt?”
“It, uh, it depends on the person. I’ve been told it feels uncomfortable before, but I’ve also been told it feels great,” I answer.
She deadlocks with my dick, just mindlessly staring at it while God knows what spins around in that pretty head of hers. I stare back at her, suddenly feeling very naked under her analytic gaze, and all those nerves begin dogpiling inside me.
Why didn’t this possibility cross my mind? If anything was to go wrong tonight, it would be my fucking dick jewelry. Is she disgusted by it? Did I just ruin the mood? Will she call me Pinhead for the rest of my life?
After a beat of silence, her brow sets into a determined line. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
“Are you sure?”
She runs her finger over a dominant vein tracking all the way to the head, and even though she isn’t applying any pressure, my cock twitches for the relief only she can offer. Grinding my teeth together seems to be the only preventive measure I have from humiliating myself in front of her. I’m as sensitive as a fucking tripwire.
“I’m sure.”
I open my mouth in search of reassurance, wanting to make sure she really means it, but she’s stripped her thong off before any words can take flight. That perfect, gorgeous pussy iswaiting for me, drenched in pent-up arousal, and I want her to disgorge all over my length until I’m dripping onto the sheets.
“Let me get a condom.” I reach for my nightstand, praying that they haven’t expired since it’s been eighty thousand years since I’ve had any action, but Cali stops my hand.
“I want to feel them—you,” she murmurs almost shamefully. “I have an IUD.”
Am I about to die? Is that why so many good things have been happening lately? Feeling Cali raw…fuck. It’s something that hasn’t even crossed my mind. I always wrap it before I tap it. I’ve nevernotwrapped it. I also don’t know shit about IUDs. Is that the little metal thingy that goes in the arm? Is it even an effective contraceptive?
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she assures wantonly.
With the mobility my hip allows me, I swiftly switch our positions so she’s beneath me, letting my cockhead snag over her damp clit, just giving her a taste so she can brace accordingly. When her eyes widen, I realize the top of my piercings must have grazed her folds, and a small gasp traps itself in her throat.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I ask softly, arms stationed by her head, making sure to keep the majority of my weight suspended so I don’t crush her. Putting this amount of pressure on my knees definitely isn’t good for my hip, but if sex with Cali means I’m set back three months in recovery, then it’s fucking worth it.
My stomach clenches in a combination of both anticipation and arousal, though I’m not sure which is more potent. “At any point you want me to stop, you just tell me.”
She looks like the sexiest centerfold sprawled out underneath me, breasts heaving in a thin finish of sweat, swatches of pink dusting her cheeks, and her flaming mane fanned out onthe pillow. She nods, but worry stilts her next set of words. “If you think that’ll fit inside me, you’re insane.”
“I was made for you, Spitfire. Only you.”
When Cali consents and spreads her legs wider, I slowly slide myself in, calculating the pace based on the contortion of her features—how her nose scrunches and a phantom grimace wrings her lips. The minute her cunt greets me with a welcoming slurp, I’m shock-stricken by how perfect she feels around me, and my brain has to hotwire itself back to its regularly scheduled programming.
I’m only halfway in, but my piercings have been swallowed up inside her, kissing her inner walls with every adjustment of her hips. I don’t move until I get some kind of confirmation from her.
“Oh, God,” she gasps, heeding the breach of her pussy, still tentative to move around or suck me any deeper.
I start to panic. “Is that a good ‘Oh, God’ or a bad ‘Oh, God?’”
“It’s—I—” She throws her head back, reveling in the sensation, her mouth forming a stunted,It’s good, before she wiggles around some more.
I don’t think she realizes how excruciating all her flailing around is. She’s involuntarily playing with the most sensitive part of me, and grunting through the pain doesn’t seem to be working.
“Spitfire, you need to stop…” I smash my molars together as my biceps shake. “Moving so much.”
