Hard Limits(17)

He smirked. "So size does matter."

"You bet. Anyone who says otherwise is just trying to spare men's brittle egos. But even when they're well endowed, sometimes they're just plain unskilled. Having ribbed, studded, or spiked condoms is a great way to get your rocks off without offending their fragile sensibilities. Men are so self-absorbed, they think a woman with customized condoms is just being kinky." And don't get her started on vaginal piercings. She'd seen cocks deflate faster than pinched balloons just at the mere sight of the metal.

Not Nico's.

"We don't need customized condoms." He grabbed a plain one and tore the package open. "Whatever I am, unskilled I'm not."

True. She could attest to that. But it was fun poking the bear.

He unzipped, suited up. "Open your legs for me." And then his crown was pressing at her entrance. He slid in with a long, continuous thrust, until he was balls-deep in her, her pussy clenching and flexing, trying to accommodate his massive presence. Yep, no need for customized condoms.

"Hottest, tightest pussy I've ever been in," he growled in her ear, her core convulsing at the huskiness in his words. "Lift your sweater. Show me your tits."

She obeyed, the cloth resting on top of her boobs. The flip side of a small rack was foregoing bras.

Never breaking eye contact, he moved in and out slowly, then picked up the pace. 

"Look at you. So prim and proper with these clothes and that hairdo, but I know what's underneath all this," he said, one hand on her clit, the other rolling her nipple and pulling at the hoop, making blood rush to the tip of her already taut and oversensitive breast. "The sexy-like-fuck metal and scars."

She fought to find her voice. "The scars are sexy?"

He didn't answer, just reached for her collar, and she panicked.

"No," she ordered sharply.

"I want it off."

She summoned all the attitude she could muster and then some. "Sorry, buddy, but if you want me coming, the collar stays."

His chuckle was incredibly arrogant, and damn if it didn't give her shivers. "Make no mistake. I'm fucking you, so you will come, collar or no collar."

Another flick of his wrist and that stupid collar, which on the best of days she had trouble unclasping with both hands, slid off, leaving the angry scar in plain sight.

They had tried their best at the hospital, she'd heard, but the skin had been too mangled. Dull knife. On the plus side, that dull edge had ultimately spared her life, so she couldn't complain. Much. Then again, she was the one who hadn't wanted to hear about follow-up surgeries. Surgeries that would have made her scar less visible.

"I said on my terms, remember?" She tried to sound affronted. It would have been more effective if she weren't trembling and gasping, her nipples swollen, her core glistering in arousal.

"I'm not crowding you." He punctuated the end of the sentence with a deep thrust. "Not pinning you down." Another thrust. "Not grabbing you by your neck or throat." Another thrust. "This is on your terms."

Really? Because her terms always put her in charge, and now she was anything but. She hadn't felt so out of control in ages, yet it was damn exhilarating. To be able to let go. Just feel and not be on the defensive.

She was going to say something, but he did that plunge and grind thing with his pelvis again, and she lost her train of thought.

"Scars are honor badges, Goth girl," he whispered in her ear. "You should wear them proudly."

The rhythm got harder, so she had to brace both arms on the mirror to withstand his onslaught.

She was standing with her skirt bunched around her waist, her undies around her ankle, and her scar in plain view while Nico fucked her from behind with long, deep strokes, rubbing her clit with one hand and tormenting her nipples with the other. His eyes never left hers. Such intensity in his face. Such longing. Such raw passion.

Yes, the scar was in plain sight, but for some unfathomable reason, she couldn't bring herself to care or feel ashamed. All she could do was give in to the moment.

Then, in the middle of her haze and on the verge of exploding, she heard her mother calling. "Paige, dear, are you here?"

She froze. Shit, that had come from the living room. Before she could react, Nico shot his arm out and closed the door, but he didn't stop. The other way around: he increased the tempo of his thrusts, his cock growing even bigger, so deep inside her he was pressing against her womb.

Panic and need flooded her, the steady click of her mother's high heels inexorably drawing closer. Oh God. Paige was going to come, and there wasn't a chance in hell she could keep it quiet. Her ears were roaring so damn loudly, it was a miracle her mom didn't hear it.