Page 16 of Freaks Of Nature
We’ll,I’m thrilledis an understatement.
Ash pulls out his phone and queues some music before setting it down on the nightstand.
I open my legs for him to step in between, and when he does, the bulge of his fly is at my eye level, daring me.
I push off and reach for his button.
“Nu-uh.” His grip cuffs my wrists. “Not so fast.”
My pussy pulses with him holding on to me, and I swallow as anticipation ripples through my core at his commanding tone.
Ash releases my wrists. “Tit for tat.” He gestures with his head toward me, his sly grin matching the quirk of his eyebrow. “Take off your top. All of it,” he demands.
I meet his smile and do as I’m told, tossing it somewhere behind me.
Ash’s grin widens. “Such a good girl.”
Heat floods my pussy at his praise. I never understood the allure behind the term until I heard it from him. I want to be good, but how can I be good if I want to do bad things?
Likereallybad things. Things that normal couples didn’t do. Things that were considered dirty. Depraved.
Ash lifts his right hand to my breast, teasing my tender nipple between his fingers. His teeth rake over his bottom lip with the motion, and I wonder whether he’s remembering sucking it.
“Now you can touch me,” he finally says.
My fingers flick the button. Eyes riveting to his face, I drink in his reaction as I tug the zipper down slowly.
I notice the jerk of his Adam’s apple from anticipation. I feel it too. It rages through my veins like an inferno.
Sliding my hands in from the top, I push his jeans and boxer briefs down.
His cock bobs free.
My eyes catch on the silver captive ball ring nestled right below the head then drop to the horizontal barbell at the base of his shaft.
Not one but two?
My throat goes dry. The piercings are not the only thing suddenly intimidating me.
He’s big.
Bigger than any guy I’ve ever been with. Ash’s shaft is long and so thick I’m not entirely sure I can fit all of him.
“We’ll make it fit,” he says, reading my wide eyes and gaping mouth.
I pick my jaw off the ground when he takes my hand and slides my palm over his stiff length, curling my fingers around him.
Fuck, he feels good. His pulse beats against my palm as I stroke him root to head, his hand guiding mine. His skin is smooth, shifting over the rigid shape like silk.
Ash surrenders a moan when I tighten my grip, and my thumb teases the ring.
My needy pussy thrums at the sound of his pleasure. I need to hear more. Need to feel more.
“How does that work with condoms?”
“You’ll still feel it,” he replies, his breath jagged. “Just not as much.”
“And you always use condoms?”
