And there was something about him trusting me enough to let me design a tattoo and ink it on his body that was even more intoxicating.
It was fucking with my head.
“It’s done.” I glanced up at him as I wiped the excess ink off his skin again, and he was staring at me. Not at where my hands worked against his body, but at me. His gaze roamed over my hair, my face, and the ink that marked my own skin.
“Yeah?” He stretched out his arm that had been in the same position for the last hour or so and moved it around.
“Do you want to see it?” I pulled my gloves from my hands and tossed them in the trash as I tried to hide my smile. Because regardless of what he thought, I loved it. I just hoped he loved it as much as I did. I hope it actually fit him as much as I felt it did.
He sat up in the chair and looked over at me again before he took a deep breath and faced the full-length mirror in the corner of the room.
My breath caught in my throat as I watched him take it in. He stared at the art, his gaze flicking to detail after detail, and when his eyes met mine in the mirror, I let out the breath I had been holding and I smiled.
Mason
I didn’t have a clue what to say to her.
I just stared at the tattoo in astonishment.
How the fuck did she do that? I didn’t even have an idea of what kind of tattoo I wanted. That’s why I had a best friend who was one of the best tattoo artists in the business but no tattoo. He had asked me so many times over the years to give me one. Actually, he was probably going to be pissed as hell when he saw that I let Staci do it.
But it was perfect.
Every line. Every detail. It was like she knew exactly what I wanted without me even knowing.
The colors of the night sky were vibrant against my skin and a stark contrast to the sharp lines of the mountains.
I lifted my arm and turned more to my side. It was like it was made to be on my skin. As if I couldn’t even remember what my body had looked like before it was there.
I looked up at her in the mirror. She was standing behind me smiling, and I knew that she knew how perfect it was without me even having to say words. But I had still planned on saying them. I planned on telling her how much I loved it. How perfect it was. How perfect she was. But when I turned to face her, none of that came out of my mouth.
Nothing did. Because I couldn’t think beyond the fact that I was dying to kiss her. The urge overwhelming.
I stalked toward her, and her pupils dilated as I came closer and closer to her. She opened her mouth to say something, but I didn’t give her a chance.
I ran my fingers in her hair, and I slammed her small body back against the wall as my body pressed fully against hers.
She moaned, soft and low, and I swallowed the sound when my mouth met hers.
It wasn’t the same kind of kiss as earlier.
That kiss was slow, calculated, teasing.
That kiss was from the guy who was smooth with the ladies.
But this kiss?
I didn’t even know what the hell this kiss was. All I knew was that I had lost every bit of control that I normally possessed, and I was dying to taste her. I was dying to taste every single part of her that she would let me.
She moaned again, and my tongue slipped inside her mouth. Her tongue touched mine, and I needed more. I gripped her thighs in my hands, trying to gain some ounce of control, but that flew out the window when she lifted her legs and let me pull them around my hips. I pressed my body farther against hers, and we moaned in unison as our centers pressed against one another.
Staci seemed to possess as much control as I did. She gripped my hair in her hands, and she tugged at the strands causing a bite of pain as she nipped at my lip. She ground her hips against me, and I shuddered as I felt her tight little body against mine.
I lifted her from against the wall, and I didn’t even think as I slammed her down against her worktop. Shit flew everywhere.
Ink of every different color that she had painted onto my body dripped to the floor, down our legs, but neither one of us cared.
Staci reached between us and gripped the edge of her shirt in her hands before it went flying through the room. My mouth instantly dropped to her chest. My kisses a frenzy of lips and tongue and teeth against her soft skin. Her perfect breasts were still encased in her tiny black lace bra, but I didn’t let it deter me.
I latched my mouth around the lace. She leaned her head back on a silent cry, and something else hit the floor as her hands reached out for something to ground her.
I pressed my lips gently against her sternum before I hooked my fingers into the front of her bra and roughly jerked the fabric down her body.
“Oh God.” Her words hit me just as my mouth pressed against her nipple for the first time, and I groaned as she pressed her body farther against me. She had an intricate tattoo that ran from the bottom of her sternum to under her breasts, and I felt mesmerized as I traced the design with my tongue. Staci bucked against me, and I bit down on the skin above her ribs as I popped the button of her jeans with my fingers.
Her hands frantically reached out for me, desperately trying to find my own jeans, and I chuckled softly when she growled her frustration.
I leaned back from her long enough to unbutton my jeans and pull down the zipper, and I watched as she raised her hips from the small table where she sat and pulled her jeans and panties down her body.
I barely managed to push my own jeans six inches down my hips before she hooked her heels behind my body and pulled me back into her.
She was so fucking wet against me, and any chance of being gentle with her, of taking my time, was demolished.
She ground her hips against me using her legs that were wrapped around my back as leverage. My hand gripped the edge of the table to help hold me steady and my fingers became coated in wet ink that still dripped to the floor.
Staci peppered kisses against my neck. She nipped my skin before stroking it with her tongue, and I felt like I was going to combust before I even got inside her.
I couldn’t wait any longer. I couldn’t stand not feeling her completely around me.
My fingers trailed against the skin of her inner thighs, eliciting a deep moan from her, and I lined my cock up against her. She didn’t even give me a moment to move. Didn’t even give me a chance. She lifted her hips from the table and pushed her body down around me before I could even think straight.
Fuck. She was driving me crazy.
My hands gripped her ass, and I pushed into her hard. Her fingers clung to my shoulders as I slammed into her again and again. My breath rushed out against her neck, and I ran my tongue against the skin there and tasted the light sheen of sweat.
Her soft moan only fueled me. Pushed me beyond the small thread of control I was clinging to.
I lifted her from the table, and her mouth met mine as I blindly carried her to the tattoo chair I had just spent the last hour in. My ass hit the chair and her knees settled on either side of me as I leaned back.
She pushed against my chest, pushing her up to where she stared down at me, and I watched as I let her take control.
Her eyes were glazed over with lust, and I loved that she had no makeup on her face. It had been washed off by the lake water that also washed away the thin line we were trying not to cross. A line that had been obliterated.
She used her knees to slowly lift herself up and her eyes never left mine as she lowered herself back down on me at a torturous pace. Her nails raked down my chest bringing a growl from me that I had no chance to keep in, and it seemed to fuel her. She rose back up and dropped down so quickly. I gripped my fingers on her hips. Feeling her hips move against me. Feeling them take every ounce of my pleasure.