He stands and leans toward me, bringing his face just in front of mine. My breathing becomes rampant, unsure of what he's about to do. He grabs the side of the chair in each hand. "I need you on your back," he says and reclines the chair until it's in a lying position, just as he was earlier.
"Where are you putting it," I ask.
Returning to a sitting position he grips my thighs and pulls me toward him, the middle of our legs meeting awkwardly. He runs his hands down my legs until they are cupping my calves, pulling my legs to rest on top of his thighs so that we are closer. I shiver slightly. "On your right side. Are you cold?"
"No," I respond quickly. "I'm just a little ticklish." I lie.
"Good, because this is going to take a while. I need you to turn to your left a little to give me a better angle." I do as he says, placing my left hand behind my head and my right clenching the edge of the chair to hold still. "Is that comfortable enough?"
I nod, trying my best to avoid his face by looking in the direction that he instructed me to turn. The fact is it's really hard to stare at a hot guy while I'm half naked and my pussy is lightly brushing against his dick every time I move. His hardened dick might I add. He doesn't even seem fazed by the fact that the only things separating this from being a very hot sexual situation is my thong and his jeans.
I take a deep breath to prepare myself for the pain. I can feel him watching me as the sound of latex conforming to his hands sounds in my ears. I can see him out of the corner of my eye. Do not look. Do not look. Concentrate on anything but his dick between your legs. Easy peasy. You're a man-eater. You got this.
His latex-covered hands grips onto my side and thigh, pulling me against his erection that is straining through his jeans. "I need you closer."
"Oh God," I whisper, unable to contain myself. It's in the perfect position to press into the center line of my folds, exerting a small amount of pressure on my clit. I should have worn granny panties. Why did I wear a fucking lace thong?
He starts wiping my skin down with a wet paper towel, cleaning the area I guess. "You okay? I haven't even gotten to the good part yet." I can hear the teasing in his voice. It pisses me off. I don't like being in this position, out of control of my hormones and emotions. It's not normal for me. My teeth clench together.
"I'm good. We can tattoo anytime you get ready. I have places still to be, celebrating, and lots of fucking alcohol."
"Celebrating, huh," his deep voice asks as he starts to draw lines on my side, leaving wet streaks behind from the marker. "What are we celebrating? I might be looking into some celebrating of my own."
The tickling of the fast-paced lines darting in various directions is making my abs tighten. I can't even guess what he could be drawing with how fast he's doing it, changing location every few seconds. I might as well make normal conversation to veer away from the thoughts of this extremely uncomfortable situation I've gotten myself into. "Delta and I going out for her birthday. It's kind of a tradition we have. We always spend our birthdays together. Just the two of us."
"Where is this special celebration taking place?"
He almost has a mocking tone in his voice. It rubs me the wrong way. Maybe I've given him the wrong impression. I'm not a child. He can't be that much older than me. "Wherever the fuck we end up. I'm hoping I wake up surprised," I say sarcastically.
"Surprises aren't always good."
The crinkling sounds of paper cause me to rise up on my elbows to see what he's doing. Opening a new needle before loading the gun. I didn't even realize he had stopped drawing already. That had to be a record time. "Says the guy giving me a super secret spectacular surprise of a tattoo? It's also a surprise to find that men actually tattoo while the client is in the artist's lap, half naked, and sizing up the artist's gun. An artist that doesn't technically work at this shop, might I add. Saying that would kind of go against the grain of this situation...don't ya think?"
He smiles as I wink dramatically, further making my point. "You didn't strike me as a girl who meets many strangers. I didn't think it would be an issue. Maybe I was in the mood to tattoo. You caught me at a good time," he says as he returns my previous gesture.
Sexy, smart-ass bastard.
I wriggle my ass, feigning discomfort, pressing myself further into him. Two can play at this game. The bad part is it feels fucking marvelous. I feel like such a whore right now, it only being a few hours outside of the last occurrence in which I spread my legs for a man, a different man. Oh, what the hell. I've been judged for less. We only live once, right?
The side of his mouth turns up in the corner. He looks down at our connected bodies as he turns the tattoo gun on, letting the buzz sound through the room, mixing with the one that's been going pretty much this whole time. Why do I get the feeling he has somehow defeated me before the game even started?
"Pain and pleasure never looked so good."
Before I can even process what that means, the outside of his right fist connects with my skin, the needle puncturing rapidly in a repeated motion as he starts on the outline. Caught off guard, I bite the inside of my cheek from the sudden jolt of pain. "Ouch, fuck that hurt. Aren't you supposed to warn me first?"
My eyes squint as I try to get used to the pain. The only thing I can think to compare it to is something sharp scraping along my skin, hard. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's worse when you're expecting it?"
I grab ahold of his thighs, trying to find something to take the edge off. Every few seconds he stops and wipes the area with a paper towel, then starts back again. Each time the needle starts back, the initial shock hurts worse than if he were to just keep going without ever stopping.
I breathe through the pain, trying to keep my bursts of air short to avoid expanding my ribcage. Maybe talking will help. "Now I know why people do this shit drunk. Obviously they are the smart ones."
"Alcohol thins the blood. Sober is the only way you legally tattoo. If it helps, this is the worst place to get a tattoo. If you make it through this one you can get one anywhere."
"You’re giving me my first tattoo in the spot that is the most painful! That figures. I should have seen it coming. Of course that would be something a man would do."
"Pleasure feels better with a little bit of pain, beautiful."
"That's the second time you have referenced the two together, yet all I feel is pain. Am I missing something?"
Without looking up from what he's doing, he thrusts his hips forward, pressing the bulge in the front of his jeans further into my folds, exerting more pressure on my clit. I moan out accidentally as the roughness of the denim brushes over it, before slapping my hand over my mouth. The adrenaline caused from the needle quickly spikes the blood flow to my genitals, making every feeling come into focus.
Without moving his upper body, he rolls his hips upward in a subtle motion, grinding the length of his hard cock in a perfect rhythm over my clit, without it even being out of his jeans. My breathing becomes wild. My manicured nails dig into his legs. I look at him, but he continues tattooing as if he's not about to make me come on a fucking tattoo chair with my best friend and a stranger in the same room.
With each bite of pain from the needle, the pleasure following is more intense. Fuck, does this even still get girls off? I feel like I'm back in junior high, dry humping during a game of seven minutes in heaven. I bite my tongue to try and remain quiet, but right now I want to scream, and I've never been a fucking vocalist in sex or hookups. It sounds too fake to me.
His denim-covered dick continues to rub against my clit just right. The way he rolls his hips like that and without hardly any effort or concentration, you would swear he was a dancer. My muscles between my legs start to contract as my body readies for orgasm. I think I just answered my own question. I want to close my legs to stop it, to save me from the embarrassment, but then I don't. His body is blocking me anyway, and he has the advantage with the needle in his hand, permanently etching my skin right now. My eyes close on i
nstinct.
Please don't come. Please don't come. I'm about to fucking come.
As if he knows the moment I'm about to, he disconnects the needle from my skin and rams his hips forward, starting that burst of pleasure that quickly begins to consume my body, intensifying as I ride it out, before fading out again, ending as quickly as it started.
My eyes lock on him, burning into him. He slides back enough to look at the crotch of his jeans, an unreadable expression on his face. I follow his line of vision to the wet spot on the front. My eyes widen. No fucking way did I just do that. That has to be him. Did he come in his pants? "Did you?"
His eyes meet mine. That's when his lips start to spread outward, pulling up into the slightest grin, almost unnoticeable. "That's all you, baby. It's going to take more than that to make me come."
"That sounds like a challenge."
What the fuck? What am I saying?
He bites the corner of his bottom lip, still staring at me as if he's trying to refrain from tossing the tattoo gun and fucking me right here in this chair.
Do it. Please.
What? Shut the fuck up, Lux.
Fuck, now I'm having a silent conversation with myself.
As his eyes skim down my barely covered body, the tip of his tongue glides along the edges of his top teeth. "If you ever see me again after tonight it'll be far more than a challenge, but since we don't mix with the same crowd I doubt that'll ever happen, gorgeous."
Why does that thought bum me out?
Just like that he goes back to tattooing, as if this is all completely normal. I drape my right arm over my eyes to black everything out. This session suddenly got extremely awkward. I'm such a tramp right now, and I love it. Holy shit. I've never come like that. I'm on such a high right now the needle doesn't even faze me anymore. The silence between us is deafening, but then he speaks again. "For the best chemical reaction it's all about balance. Two things you would never imagine to be are usually the most complimentary."
I like that. Who is this guy? Where the fuck did he come from? Whoever he is, he just invaded my life like an army at full speed in a surprise attack. I wasn't prepared for him, but no one will ever fucking top that first tattoo. Un-fucking-forgettable.
She triggers something unfamiliar. Lux. It rolls through my mind with ease. I have a feeling she has many layers. She spikes a curiosity I've never had with a female, a need to learn...about her. I could. I could find out everything I want to know with no effort at all. It's who I am. I've already decided I want her body. I had to have a taste. She was responding to me in a way I've never seen. There was a shift in the air. I wanted one glance at how she looked as I pleasured her. She certainly didn't disappoint. The problem I'm finding now is that I want more.
I could take her right here in this chair or I could take her to the back. She already invited me in. A challenge. If she could make me come, she could have anything she wanted at her fingertips. Many have tried and failed. She's given me permission to take more of her body for myself. That was her first mistake. No one should ever invite me in. I'm going to decline, for now at least...but I can't guarantee my decision won't change, because right now that constant itch only scratched with two things is silent. Interesting.
I've been back for a week now. It just felt right to stay in Spain for a while. There were things I needed to learn, to take care of. There were lots of things to get in order. The man I was died when I showed up and was faced with my new reality. That Monday I called headquarters and told them I had an emergency leave and I wouldn't be returning; then disappeared like a ghost. No one has seen me since...until now. Dad and I have known Kross for several years now. It was time I returned, and he was the first stop I made since he'll be dealing with me now, for certain...needs.
I'm now alone, just like I was twenty years ago. Jose has taught me everything I didn't already know. He will head up the PI firm there and I will expand here, just as Dad and I discussed before the universe decided to alter the plans. It just looks like I'll be traveling between the two more frequently than I anticipated.
The weird fucking thing was that Dad already had everything laid out for the moment he took his last breath, as if he knew it was coming. It was a matter of entrusting the right person to give me what I needed when the time came, and doing the paperwork. Seeing him, reading his words, and hearing his voice on that video when I couldn't face him like a man was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but I understand now his need to rid the world of monsters, one at a time. I owe him everything. He started something. He wanted to try to right every wrong, and he busted his ass trying until he made one deadly mistake. The only way he'll live on is if I continue what he started, so that's exactly what I'll do. I've learned when to take and when to pass. It's all about reading the soul.
I wipe that last spot of excess ink before shutting off the gun and setting it down on the tray beside me. A couple of hours and it's finished. Her beautiful body has been inked for the first time and I was the one to do it. Taking a clean paper towel I wet it and rub it over the freshly inked skin, clearing the ink smudges. I look up at her for the first time since I had to look away. If I didn't I would have touched her, really touched her. "You ready to see it? Then I'll bandage it and you can be on your way. It looks like Kross and Delta have already finished. They must be outside."
Moving her legs off my thighs, I stand and step over the chair, holding out my hand for hers. She looks at me, clearly debating, when she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and takes it. Tempting. I must refrain. "I might as well. My curiosity is getting the best of me."
She throws her leg over the chair and stands, facing me. I look at her new artwork. It fits her. I walk around her so that she can see in the mirror, positioning myself behind her. I want to see her reaction. She stares at me in the mirror. "Look."
Her eyes veer down, widening a little as she takes it in. "It's beautiful, but what does it mean to you? You said it was going to be your interpretation of me."
"It is. Like I said I'm pretty good at reading people, but the thing about an interpretation is that it can vary between viewers. There is no right or wrong answer. First I chose a Lotus flower blossoming in its natural state. They are known for their ability to grow in muddy water. Most plants wouldn't survive in that environment, but the Lotus blossoms above the murk, opening into a beautiful bloom that is admired by many. Our kind are all born into less than ideal places, places that some wouldn't survive in, but to reach for something better is an admirable trait. I left it in half bloom, because I get the vibe that you haven't reached your full potential of self-growth yet."
She looks up at me. "Why red?"
"I chose red, because even though you come off as a smartass unfazed by anyone, I think you're hiding a compassion that you don't want anyone to see out of fear."
She swallows. "And the sinking anchor?"
Our eyes locked together, I brush my fingertips along her midsection, tracing my index finger along the anchor that is wrapped around the stem of the flower, trying to pull it down. Her skin jumps as I touch the sensitive skin. "An anchor is a symbol of strength. There will always be things in life that try to pull us down, but we also define our own strength. You are as strong as you want to be. Never let anything pull you back to the place you started. Keep rising above the mud."
Her mouth parts, falling slightly. I've struck a nerve. I can read it all over her face. In an instant her expression clears and she clears her throat. "That's an interesting take on myself I've never heard. Thanks for that tattoo. You're really talented. I really need to be going."
I grab the ointment and start rubbing it over the tattoo, before covering it and shedding the latex gloves, tossing them on the tray. Opening the drawer, I dig around until I find what I'm looking for, pulling it out, and giving her a sample packet of ointment. "Here. Rub this on it until it's gone and then use lotion. Don't scrub in the shower. The key is to avoid it drying out. You want to keep as much ink
as possible."
She takes it and starts grabbing for her dress underneath the under-wiring of her bra. I grab her hand. "Let me."
"Who are you, Kaston?"
I grab the fabric, pulling it out from under her bra, and then start unrolling it down her body, slowly and meticulously, wanting to remember how she looks right now. It'll make a good addition to the spank bank at the very least.
"Someone you don't want to know," I say as I release the bottom hem of her dress at her thighs. "Someone cut me at the roots before I got the chance to reach the surface. I'm lost in the murk, Lux. The tattoo is on me."
She kisses the side of my mouth, mumbling against my skin. "What if I do?"
My eyes briefly close at the softness of her full lips. "You have no fucking idea what you're saying. You don't even know me."
"Just like you don't know me..."
Something snaps. Fisting my hands in her hair, I roughly kiss her, pulling and kneading at her fucking lip with my own as I walk her backward until she's standing against the wall. She kisses back just as harsh, placing her hands on my hips. Her taste has me in frenzy, barely able to think. My cock wants her, wants to feel her. Grabbing the back of her thigh, I pull it up and wrap it around my waist, before pressing my pelvis into the spread of her legs. It's not enough.
The back of her head falls against the dark wall, separating our lips and elongating her neck. Her jugular vein is protruding, making me crazier. I swipe my tongue down the vertical line that is blue in color. It's pulsing from the rapid beat of her heart, making blood flow faster. "Damn. I want to fuck you so bad right now."
She moans. "Do it. I want you to. Then, I'll walk away and you'll never see me again. We both get something we want, we both leave satisfied, and we both win."
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