My inner ramble comes to a halt when I see those piercings again, staring at the head of his cock like I can’t help myself. Corbin Fucking Sterling has a magic cross. In my wildest dreams, I never expected it.
“You’re staring again, so I’m assuming that means you’re doing the math on whether or not I’m too big?”
I can hear the smug tone of his voice, despite the fact he’s obviously in a lot of pain. Cocky asshole.
Forcing my eyes back up, I glare at him again.
I’d be lying if I said I’m not equal parts terrified and thrilled. After all, half of the attraction is the mystery, right? We’ve spent years playing games that most consider foreplay.
Maybe once it’s finally out of the way, I can just move on. There’s no way he can ever live up to the hype in my head. There’s no way he can possibly live out my fantasies.
The real thing is never ever as good.
This could be the answer to all my prayers.
Obviously I can’t act too giddy about that either.
“Fine,” I say through clenched teeth, even though I’m secretly jumping up and down. Pathetic, I know. “One night, Corbin. And just because you’ve tripled dared me. Nothing too personal. No touching more than necessary.”
“Ruby, if you don’t get naked, I’m going to rip your damn clothes off.”
Ah hell. Why’d he have to go and turn me on more?
Rolling my eyes and trying not to act as impossibly nervous as I am, I make sure the door is locked. Then I do a total bitch thing and slowly perform a striptease in front of him.
“Ruby,” he groans/growls. It’s a sexy sound that has me working a little quicker to get out of all my clothes.
My hands are actually shaking when I turn around to face him, completely bare and fully aware of every nerve in my body, because they’re all firing uncontrollably.
This is really about to happen, and there’s no way it can be stopped this time. Well, not unless he wants to be jabbed in the dick with a needle. Surely I’m a better option.
Swallowing hard against the knot in my throat, I watch as his eyes move slowly over my body, taking in every bit of exposed flesh. It’s like flames lick each spot his gaze rakes over, as though his stare leaves a tangible trail in its wake.
His fists clench at his sides, and his jaw ticks as his chest moves quicker, proving his breathing has shifted.
He’s either really pissed or really turned on.
Not saying a word, I go to move on top of my bed, slowly climbing up on it and getting on all fours, putting my back to him. Not having eye-contact will help me keep things impersonal.
I start to speak, but my breath catches in my throat when I feel the heat of his body against mine from behind, as his chest brushes my back.
“Not without a condom,” I say in a rasp tone that betrays my attempt to sound in control of the situation. “I don’t even want to think where all that fuck stick has been.”
Obviously I was hoping to kill the palpable sexual tension with that snide remark, but it doesn’t even take the damn edge off.
He grunts before moving away from me, and my entire body threatens to collapse. The suspense is torture, and my adrenaline is fueling me, keeping me strong enough to hold myself up.
It’s just sex. It’s not like I’ve never had sex before. Sheesh.
But it’s not just sex. It’s Corbin. My Corbin. My freaking Achilles heel.
The foil rattles somewhere behind me, and my legs tremble. It’s not surprising he has a condom with him. It’s Corbin, after all.
When it grows quiet, I resist the urge to look over my shoulder. My mind goes to a place I don’t want it to, picturing him rolling that condom over those four silver, round studs on the head of his cock, teasing me with how they’d feel without the thin layer of synthetic material between us.
The heat of his long body pressing against my back banishes my thoughts, and my breath gets trapped again. “I’ve waited for this for so long,” he whispers, but obviously I can’t have heard that right.
I start to twist my head around to question him, but suddenly I feel his hand sliding down my stomach. The shock of his hand touching my skin so intimately silences me once again, and all I can do is feel. Especially when his hand keeps moving lower.
Lower…
Lower…
Low—Oh shit.
He groans low in his throat when he feels just how turned on I am, but I’m too lost in the sensation of his hand on me… there… to even bother being embarrassed about it.
“Fuck, Ruby,” he growls, flicking the hood piercing of mine. It’s a miracle I don’t buck in response.