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“Quit moving.”
Am I moving? I try to hold still, but it’s tricky. I’m practically panting with arousal, and he’s bent over my breast, concentrating as he marks the other side. “I just wanted a second opinion.”
“You know I think you’re flawless.”
Flawless. What a word. I don’t think anyone has ever called me “flawless” before. I’m stunned into silence. Flawless, huh? In his eyes, I’m perfect. I have not a single fault. He would change nothing, because I’m flawless. I’ve never wanted to jump a man so much in my entire life, all over a single word.
He makes a satisfied sound in his throat and straightens, studying my breast with a critical eye. “I think they’re even. Take a look and let me know if you like it?”
“Is there a mirror?” My voice is husky with arousal.
Kaz looks around. “Don’t see one.”
“I trust you.”
“Ruthie—”
“I trust you,” I repeat again. The urge to touch him is almost overpowering. I want to clasp his face in my hands and gaze into his eyes for hours. I don’t know what it is about this moment, but I’m wavering between being intensely romantic and incredibly turned on. It’s never been like this with my other piercings or I’d be completely studded on every inch of skin by now. “Do what you think is best. I know you won’t let me down.”
My words hit a mark. His nostrils flare and his gaze flicks to my face before he reaches down to brush his fingertips over my nipple one more time.
I suck in a breath. Yes. This is what I’ve been waiting for. Touch me.
But he only beams me a bright smile. “Ready?”
Disappointment flares, but I paste a smile on my face. “Sure.”
He carefully fits the bit of metal I’ve selected for my piercing into the end of the “gun” and then places it against my nipple. The prongs feel cold and my skin prickles with awareness. I’ve used this thing before. While the med-bay will do a lot of things independently, there’s also a hand-held suturing “gun” of sorts that can be used for tricky spots. The head has been slightly modified for my piercing obsession and will punch the metal through my skin cleanly.
I could do it myself.
I just don’t want to.
Kazex glances back up at me again. Our eyes meet and a hot little thrill snakes down my spine. His gaze flickers down, and in the next moment, a hot, sweet piercing sensation flashes through my nipple.
I gasp aloud and automatically reach for Kazex, my nails digging into the fabric of his uniform. “Oh god.”
He pulls the gun away. “Looks like a clean piercing. You okay, Ruthie?”
My lungs heave and I manage a nod. How do I tell him I almost came just a moment ago? That everything in me clenched in anticipation, only to be let down when nothing happened? If he would have touched me, said a single word, anything—I would have orgasmed right then and there.
“You’ve got a bit of blood,” he says, voice strangely tight. “Here.”
A moment later I’m holding a bit of gauze, wet with disinfectant, and Kazex immediately turns and leaves the room.
Puzzled, I put the cold gauze to my hot, aching nipple. Was he grossed out over actually piercing me? I hadn’t taken him for the type to have a weak stomach. I glance down at my new piercing, and there’s two tiny studs on both sides of my nipple. They feel enormous and pulsing, which is amusing considering how small they are. It looks good, though. Nice and even and pretty?—
“Haahhhh.”
The sound—more of a breathless rasp than anything—comes from the lavatory attached to the med-bay.
Where Kazex retreated to.
A grunt follows.
Oooh, he’s not grossed out. He’s jerking off.
I clench my thighs together, delighted and horny. I love that he’s jerking off. I wish he hadn’t left, though. Did he not want me to know? It seems odd—and disappointing—after this morning. I liked watching him touch himself then. I debate going to interrupt (and watch), but I don’t want him to feel like I’m intruding. I wasn’t invited this time.
Waiting for him to emerge feels like an eternity. I hop off the table and disinfect my new piercing, then cover it with a plas-film bandage and slip my shirt back on. My nipple still feels as if it’s throbbing and protruding despite the layers of material. I’d heard that nipple piercings were more sensitive, but this is a whole new, fascinating level.
And I’m really, really glad I didn’t ask Sakkar to help me.
Water runs in the next room, and I mentally envision Kazex washing his hands. Sure enough, he emerges a moment later, shaking the excess water free from his hands. His clothes are fastened like normal, but his hair is a little wild and there’s a glassy look in his eyes that I recognize from this morning.
