“Okay?” he asked.

I nodded mutely and he watched me, testing my response as his lips parted, enveloping the taut skin. The smooth ball in his tongue completed a slow circuit, clicking dully against the barbell. It was almost too much.

“Are you sorry now?” he asked, and applied the gentlest of suction.

I groaned at the pleasure-pain and shook my head. “No. Should I be?”

“That depends.” He kissed his way across the valley to devote the same attention to the other breast. I grasped his hair as he licked at my nipple and blew on it. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Definitely not.” It was questionable whether he would agree to anything like this again. I doubted he lost control often. I pushed aside the fear of what might happen in the aftermath and pulled his shirt over his head so I could see him.

Vibrant color gave way to solid black lines. My fingers drifted over the ink. The muscles in his chest tensed and bunched as he held himself over me, allowing me to touch the canvas of his body. I could see now the rest of the colorful design on his arm, the orange fish splashing up a stream heavy with blossoms, half wilted, half alive. I traced the black lines on his chest and finally understood the pattern. It was a phoenix, the thick bands of ink traveling across his body and down into the waistband of his jeans. I could have spent hours uncovering his art, looking for the meaning in the pieces he chose to cover his skin.

“You’re gorgeous.”

He shook his head and settled between my legs, his belt buckle a cold shock against my stomach. His chest came flush with mine. The solid weight of his body grounded me in the present and kept me from falling backward into memories I didn’t want anymore. He was all that existed in this moment.

He framed my face between his hands, his touch soft, his expression severe. “Just this one time. Just once. Then not again until the tattoo is done. It’s too complicated.”

I couldn’t see how his restrictions would make things less difficult, but I would take whatever he was offering. It was better than the alternative. “If that’s what you want.”

“What I want?” He circled his hips, his erection insistent against me. “What I want is for you to stop being so fucking reticent and tell my why you want that monster of a tattoo.”

Hayden was just as taciturn, but I didn’t think it would be a good time to point that out.

“What I want is to know why the fuck I can’t get you out of my head.” He sat back on his heels, unbuckled his belt, and popped the button on his jeans. “What I want—” He pulled them down over his hips; there were no boxers. “—is to figure out why I have no control when it comes to you.”

His erection sprang free. I swallowed hard. In my rather narrow field of experience, I had never seen anything quite so impressive. Fascinated, I reached out and ran a tentative finger from base to tip, circling the thick steel ball piercing the head. It jerked at the contact. I propped myself up on my elbow, taking him in my hand. Hayden grunted out an expletive.

“What’s it called?” I asked when I realized the barbell ran straight through the head, in one side and out the other.

“What?” Hayden’s hips shifted forward.

“The piercing, what’s it called?”

“Apadravya.”

I repeated it, testing out the word. “It must have hurt.” I circled the ball with my thumb.

“At the time, but it feels fucking amazing right now.” He fumbled with his discarded jeans, and his wallet came free as I continued to stroke him. Flipping it open, he lifted a trio of gold foil squares from inside. Using his teeth, he severed one from its brothers and tore it open. His hand covered mine, and he gently pried my fingers away. I didn’t offer to help, too enthralled with the way the latex stretched over the piercing. He rolled it swiftly down his length. Like he’d done it before. Many times.

Hayden leaned over me, his hips resting in the cradle of mine, hard against soft this time. “Last chance to back out, Tenley.”

I dragged a foot up the back of his leg, pressing my heel against his ass.

His mouth came down on mine. The steel rings bit into my skin as his tongue pushed past my lips, eagerly seeking out my own. He snaked a hand between us and I felt the thick head of his erection pass over my clit and go lower until he was easing inside. His forehead dropped against my shoulder and he turned his face into my neck. The barbell passed the threshold, first one side, then the other. It slid along sensitive places inside me. It didn’t matter that I’d already had an orgasm, or that he tried to ready me for him; I wasn’t prepared for the sheer girth. My body stretched to accommodate him, the sharp sting an indication I was filled beyond capacity. My knees clamped against his hips.

Hayden’s head snapped up. “Tenley?” Frantic fingers were in my hair. “Are you okay?”

I nodded and held on to the back of his neck, wanting to keep him close. “Just give me a second. You’re a lot to handle.”

He waited until I urged him on, his breathing controlled. I matched mine to his, relaxing into him when he pushed forward again, until our hips met. We stayed like that for an interminable moment. I focused on the smell of his skin and the feel of him inside me, wanting this connection to wipe out everything that came before it. He took away the pain, consuming it and me. He kissed me again, slow and soft this time, circling his hips but staying deep. The sensation was indescribable, overwhelming but not quite enough. I didn’t want it to end.

Hayden let out a rough curse, hips pulling back and surging forward. “I’m not . . . I can’t . . . You feel too fucking good.”

When I shifted under him, he made a pained sound and his muscles trembled.

“Just wait,” he said.

It verged on a plea. I ran a hand down his back and he shuddered.

“Fuck. Never mind. It’s too late.” His forearms slid under my back and his fingers curled around my shoulders, holding me tight to him. His shallow thrusts grew more and more erratic. His mouth was at my neck, lips parting against my skin, teeth sinking in as he moved inside me. Hayden’s body locked down as he groaned low in his throat.

“I didn’t expect that,” he said apologetically, kissing the spot where his teeth had just been.

He pushed up on his arms and I tightened my grip, fingernails digging into his skin. “Not yet, please.”

He pulled back, looking at me with something halfway between amusement and sheepishness. His palm moved over the sheets until something crinkled. Holding himself up on one arm, he separated the twin squares and handed me one.

“Didn’t you just—”

“That doesn’t mean I’m done.”

The sudden emptiness as he pulled out was startlingly unpleasant. Hayden removed the spent condom and tossed it in the trash. I ripped open the new one and passed it to him, too desperate to have him back inside me to do it myself. It took him two tries to roll it on.

He ran a hand gently over my hip and down my thigh, hooking his arm under my left knee. Repositioning himself, he eased back inside. We both groaned at the sensation as he drew my leg up to change the angle.

I started to comment, but he cut me off with his mouth. When I was sufficiently distracted, he began to move again, slow at first and gaining momentum. He sat back on his knees, eyes fixed where we were joined.

“You have no idea—”

He ran his thumb along the exposed base of his shaft, slick skin glistening, and circled my clit in time with his thrusts. And then he was lifting me up, bringing us chest to chest once more, this time with me in his lap. He stayed close, grinding me over him.

I rested my forearms on his shoulders, our lips meeting on every downward stroke. I’d expected him to be untamed, but this was something else, more than I knew what to do with. I looked down, over the expanse of muscle and ink, to watch him enter and leave me. I could feel it then—yet another orgasm slithering its way up my spine.