In Your Corner
Page 56
Trembling, I reach up and hook my fingers through the wire, palms toward him. My back arches and my br**sts brush against his chest.
“Such beautiful br**sts.” He nuzzles his way down. “Want to play with them all night.”
“Please…don’t.”
He gives me an evil smile and draws one taut nipple into his mouth. So warm. So wet. His tongue circles, his teeth nip, his lips suck. Over and over again, his tongue teases my nipple until my breast is sore, swollen, and I am writhing against him, near mindless with need. When he turns his attention to the other one, I resort to begging.
“I need you inside me, Jake. Please. Now. I can’t take any more.”
Taking my weight with one hand, he slides his fingers along my wet folds and then up over my swollen clit. My body coils tighter and tighter and when he dips two fingers inside, I suck in a sharp breath and whimper.
“Christ, you’re wet.” His lips are hot on my ear. “So goddam wet. I was worried you wouldn’t be ready, but my baby needs me bad.”
“Yesss. God, yes.”
His growl of satisfaction inflames me. I wrap my legs around his waist and tighten my thighs, drawing him so close his piercing bumps against my clit and my entire body shudders violently.
“None of that, little minx. You’re only getting off with me buried deep inside you.” And without warning, he lifts me and then slams me down over his jutting cock.
No easing in. No taking it slow. No giving me a chance to get used to the piercing. Instead he impales me and my breath catches in my throat as sensation floods my brain. So big. So thick. So hard. He is everything I remember…but more.
But it isn’t the depth or girth of him that fries my brain. It isn’t the violence of his thrust or the slide of his c**k through my swollen channel. It’s the exquisite, electrifying scrape of his piercing over my most sensitive inner tissue that makes me scream.
I am not one of those women who wonders if G-spots really exist. Or if she has a G-spot. Or even where her G-spot might be. My G-spot and I are intimately familiar. I have a special set of toys for G-spot pleasuring. I can direct a man’s fingers or cock—or once even his tongue—to the exact spot for maximum pleasure. I know where, when, why, and how I want my G-spot touched. But nothing can match the feel of cold, hard steel.
He lifts me almost all the way up and then thrusts inside, deeper this time, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. Then he pounds into me, hands curled tight on my ass. Every thrust is a new burst of mind-numbing sensation as his piercing drags over my most sensitive area, and although I am coiled tight and ready to explode, I almost don’t want the beautiful torture to end.
Almost.
“Ready for me, baby?” He slides his hand between us, fingers brushing over my swollen clit as my body slams against the fence again and again. Even as I am driven to new heights of pleasure, an unfamiliar heaviness curls low in my belly. Deep, dark, and delicious, it almost pulls me out of the moment.
Fingers pinch. My world explodes. A shriek rips from my throat as I am rocked by an earth-shattering orgasm. Pleasure thunders through my body, sending wave after wave of sensation all the way to my fingers and toes. With one last violent thrust, Jake joins me, coming hard in hot, heated jerks. And as he pulses against my swollen tissue, the heaviness deep inside me becomes a second wave of brain-fuzzing, scream-inducing exquisite pleasure.
Jake groans and leans against me, still supporting my weight. I can feel his heart pounding. I can feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest. I can feel liquid trickling down my legs from my G-spot release. Now that was a first.
“Fuck, baby. We were always good together, but never like that.”
We hold each other for a few moments and then Jake withdraws and leaves the cage to dispose of the condom. When he returns, he has a first aid blanket with him and, in true fighter form, a water bottle.
“Always good to stay hydrated in the cage.” He spreads the blanket on the mat and then pulls me down on top of him so my head is resting on his chest. Emotionally and physically drained, I listen to the steady thud of his heart and the rasp of his breathing. My fingers trail over the soft hair leading down from his chest to the piercing, glinting in the overhead lights.
“Did it hurt?”
He gives a bitter laugh. “Made me a better fighter. After pain like that, I don’t feel anything else.”
“But…why?”
His jaw tightens, and for once he won’t meet my gaze. “After we broke up, it was something I just wanted to do. Maybe it’s the rebel in me. Or maybe in some twisted way I wanted to punish myself for losing the best thing that ever happened to my life.”
My heart squeezes in my chest. “That wasn’t you, Jake. That was me.”
“You tried to make it right,” he says softly. “I almost f**king lost my mind the night you and Makayla went looking for me and got kidnapped. And the other times you tried to talk to me…I knew you were genuinely sorry. I could have listened. I’ve just never been good with forgiveness. I don’t come from a forgiving family.”
I stroke a finger gently over the tip of his cock, toying lightly with his piercing. He comes semierect almost instantly in my hand. “So you do things like this? You really are a renegade. I can’t imagine many men who could even conceive of getting pierced. The guys I know take out their frustrations in the gym or sports field or usually the bar—not on themselves.”
He draws my hand away and brings my fingers to his lips, kissing each tip with a featherlight brush of his tongue. “Ever since I was a kid, I couldn’t follow the rules. I was constantly getting into trouble. My parents blamed me for everything that went wrong, even my father’s alcoholism. So I became who they thought I was. A rebel. Hung out with the wrong crowd, got into trouble with the law…the total opposite of Peter.”
“Such beautiful br**sts.” He nuzzles his way down. “Want to play with them all night.”
“Please…don’t.”
He gives me an evil smile and draws one taut nipple into his mouth. So warm. So wet. His tongue circles, his teeth nip, his lips suck. Over and over again, his tongue teases my nipple until my breast is sore, swollen, and I am writhing against him, near mindless with need. When he turns his attention to the other one, I resort to begging.
“I need you inside me, Jake. Please. Now. I can’t take any more.”
Taking my weight with one hand, he slides his fingers along my wet folds and then up over my swollen clit. My body coils tighter and tighter and when he dips two fingers inside, I suck in a sharp breath and whimper.
“Christ, you’re wet.” His lips are hot on my ear. “So goddam wet. I was worried you wouldn’t be ready, but my baby needs me bad.”
“Yesss. God, yes.”
His growl of satisfaction inflames me. I wrap my legs around his waist and tighten my thighs, drawing him so close his piercing bumps against my clit and my entire body shudders violently.
“None of that, little minx. You’re only getting off with me buried deep inside you.” And without warning, he lifts me and then slams me down over his jutting cock.
No easing in. No taking it slow. No giving me a chance to get used to the piercing. Instead he impales me and my breath catches in my throat as sensation floods my brain. So big. So thick. So hard. He is everything I remember…but more.
But it isn’t the depth or girth of him that fries my brain. It isn’t the violence of his thrust or the slide of his c**k through my swollen channel. It’s the exquisite, electrifying scrape of his piercing over my most sensitive inner tissue that makes me scream.
I am not one of those women who wonders if G-spots really exist. Or if she has a G-spot. Or even where her G-spot might be. My G-spot and I are intimately familiar. I have a special set of toys for G-spot pleasuring. I can direct a man’s fingers or cock—or once even his tongue—to the exact spot for maximum pleasure. I know where, when, why, and how I want my G-spot touched. But nothing can match the feel of cold, hard steel.
He lifts me almost all the way up and then thrusts inside, deeper this time, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. Then he pounds into me, hands curled tight on my ass. Every thrust is a new burst of mind-numbing sensation as his piercing drags over my most sensitive area, and although I am coiled tight and ready to explode, I almost don’t want the beautiful torture to end.
Almost.
“Ready for me, baby?” He slides his hand between us, fingers brushing over my swollen clit as my body slams against the fence again and again. Even as I am driven to new heights of pleasure, an unfamiliar heaviness curls low in my belly. Deep, dark, and delicious, it almost pulls me out of the moment.
Fingers pinch. My world explodes. A shriek rips from my throat as I am rocked by an earth-shattering orgasm. Pleasure thunders through my body, sending wave after wave of sensation all the way to my fingers and toes. With one last violent thrust, Jake joins me, coming hard in hot, heated jerks. And as he pulses against my swollen tissue, the heaviness deep inside me becomes a second wave of brain-fuzzing, scream-inducing exquisite pleasure.
Jake groans and leans against me, still supporting my weight. I can feel his heart pounding. I can feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest. I can feel liquid trickling down my legs from my G-spot release. Now that was a first.
“Fuck, baby. We were always good together, but never like that.”
We hold each other for a few moments and then Jake withdraws and leaves the cage to dispose of the condom. When he returns, he has a first aid blanket with him and, in true fighter form, a water bottle.
“Always good to stay hydrated in the cage.” He spreads the blanket on the mat and then pulls me down on top of him so my head is resting on his chest. Emotionally and physically drained, I listen to the steady thud of his heart and the rasp of his breathing. My fingers trail over the soft hair leading down from his chest to the piercing, glinting in the overhead lights.
“Did it hurt?”
He gives a bitter laugh. “Made me a better fighter. After pain like that, I don’t feel anything else.”
“But…why?”
His jaw tightens, and for once he won’t meet my gaze. “After we broke up, it was something I just wanted to do. Maybe it’s the rebel in me. Or maybe in some twisted way I wanted to punish myself for losing the best thing that ever happened to my life.”
My heart squeezes in my chest. “That wasn’t you, Jake. That was me.”
“You tried to make it right,” he says softly. “I almost f**king lost my mind the night you and Makayla went looking for me and got kidnapped. And the other times you tried to talk to me…I knew you were genuinely sorry. I could have listened. I’ve just never been good with forgiveness. I don’t come from a forgiving family.”
I stroke a finger gently over the tip of his cock, toying lightly with his piercing. He comes semierect almost instantly in my hand. “So you do things like this? You really are a renegade. I can’t imagine many men who could even conceive of getting pierced. The guys I know take out their frustrations in the gym or sports field or usually the bar—not on themselves.”
He draws my hand away and brings my fingers to his lips, kissing each tip with a featherlight brush of his tongue. “Ever since I was a kid, I couldn’t follow the rules. I was constantly getting into trouble. My parents blamed me for everything that went wrong, even my father’s alcoholism. So I became who they thought I was. A rebel. Hung out with the wrong crowd, got into trouble with the law…the total opposite of Peter.”
