Abiding Ink (Inked in the Steel City) (Volume 4)

by Ranae Rose

  Every inch was a thrill as she imagined him kicking his jeans to the floor, bare for her, eventually pressing inside her. It was so easy to imagine those sorts of things with him – the thoughts leapt into her head, half-wild and completely irresistible. Retracing the path she’d just forged, she stroked him again, freezing when he slipped a hand beneath the hem of her sweater.

  His fingertips rested against her belly, just above one hip, and the simple touch sent ripples of pleasure over her entire body. Her skin tingled and her nipples tightened, shrinking against the cups of her bra. It was a cute one, she remembered with a pang of satisfaction – after what had happened on that rooftop, she’d made sure to choose something flattering to wear beneath her admittedly bulky winter clothing.

  When Tyler cupped one of her breasts, massaging the cleavage that swelled over the top of one demi cup, she forgot all about the hint of lace and satin bow that made her lingerie date-worthy. With him touching her like that, all she could think about was getting out of her carefully-chosen undergarments. When the tip of his thumb brushed the edge of her nipple, she gripped him, cradling his balls through his jeans, feeling them hot and heavy in her hand.

  With a groan, he squeezed her breast, pulling back and breaking the seal of their kiss.

  Before she could so much as sigh in protest, he gripped the hem of her sweater and pulled it over her head.

  Her hair bounced in a cloud in front of her eyes and around her shoulders, momentarily obscuring her vision. Brushing a few curls out of the way, she blinked, succumbing to a quick head-to-toe tightening as her gaze settled on his hands. They were on his clothing, now – specifically, the fly of his jeans. The muscles in his forearms flexed beneath his colorful sleeves as he pushed his jeans button through its hole. Next thing she knew, the sound of a zipper parting sent a shiver of delight down her spine, and she was reaching for him.

  She slipped her hand beneath the cotton waistband of his boxer briefs, exposing hair that was slightly darker than the medium brown that grew on top of his head and elsewhere on his body, including in a diamond in the center of his chest. Plenty of tattoos and just the right amount of body hair – as sexy as it was, she was only able to spare a moment’s appreciation before her fingertips brushed something smooth and hard and she was exposing much more than swirls of ink or hair.

  The broad head of his cock rose above his underwear and she slid her hand farther down the shaft, exposing more of him – all of him – by pushing his boxer briefs down past his hips, along with his jeans. He was just as thick as he’d felt before his jeans had come unzipped, and a faint sense of awe washed over her as she wrapped her hand around him, feeling the heat and hardness of his erection in full.

  It had been a while since she’d been with anyone, and it wasn’t just the heat of the moment that made her sure she’d never wanted anyone as badly as she wanted him. He leaned into her, sending his shaft sliding against her palm as he crushed his mouth to the side of her neck, teasing her with tongue and teeth.

  He was a fantastic kisser, even when he wasn’t kissing her mouth. A frisson zipped down her spine as he slowly worked his way down the arch of her neck, straying toward her collarbone, and then below. When his lips brushed the swell of her breast, the nipple drew even tighter than before, aching. In her mind, she could already feel the heat and pull of his mouth against it, around it. When he ran one hand over her shoulder, brushing her bra strap aside, she sighed.

  His breath hit her nipple first, hot and humid, teasing.

  She arched her back a little and the hard bud brushed his lips, the feather-light contact sending a bolt of sensation straight to her pussy.

  With the same finesse he’d applied to the side of her neck, he closed his lips around her nipple, drawing it into his mouth as he slid a hand around her body, his fingertips fluttering against her spine.

  She realized what he was doing when he applied both hands to the task, unhooking her bra as he teased her with his tongue. Her bra fell away, straps sliding down her arms, and she was bare from the waist up, with only his mouth on her breast, one of his hands cradling it from below as he sucked, making her arch until her back ached faintly.

  For a few moments, she forgot everything, and then she remembered that his dick was hot and harder than ever in her hand. Breathing a shaky sigh, she ran her hand up and down the shaft, stroking him.

  He raised his head, blue eyes locking with her dark ones as he cupped both her breasts in his hands, leaning in for a kiss that left her lips feeling bruised. When it ended, he reached below and unbuttoned her jeans.

  Butterflies burst into instant flight inside her belly as he lowered the zipper, fingertips brushing the lace-edged panties that matched her forgotten bra. Relinquishing her grip on his shaft, she leaned back, accidentally setting her hand in spilled sugar as she raised her hips, making it easier for him.

  He tugged her jeans down past her hips, then her panties. With the scrap of lavender and ivory cotton and lace still caught in his hands, he froze, gaze hot and heavy on her naked body, a few inches above her aching pussy.

  She’d forgotten about her new tattoo. Now, her stomach clenched and tingled, shaking up the butterflies inside as she realized what he was looking at.

  Dropping her own gaze, she studied the fresh design for what must’ve been the millionth time. The roses, done in royal purple and black, flowed gracefully over the curve of her hipbone, completely masking the atrocity that had been inked there before. She was so glad she’d gone to Abby for a cover-up that she was tempted to breathe a sigh of relief every time she so much as glimpsed her new ink. The tattoo was still healing, but it was beautiful.

  “What do you think?” she asked, her gaze snagging on the hard shaft of Tyler’s cock before she raised it, all the way to his eyes.

  He reached out and laid a hand on her hip, fanning his fingers over her skin, just below the edge of a dark leaf. “It looks great. And it … suits you.” He kept staring, eyes intense as he apparently studied each carefully shaded petal, each curling leaf.

  All of a sudden, she caught herself imagining what it would be like to be in his tattoo chair, to see that same look on his face as he applied permanent ink – something that would always be a part of her. The idea gave her a thrill in a way getting the tattoo he was studying hadn’t. Abby was an amazing artist and Mallory wouldn’t take back her decision to go to her for the world, but the thought of being tattooed by Tyler definitely sparked a sort of excitement she’d never imagined the process could bring.

  “Thanks,” she said, finally thinking to lift her hand out of the sugar. With her other one, she began to brush the granules away.

  They drifted down, scattering across the counter and her lap.

  Tyler’s gaze was finally diverted, and light flashed in his eyes as he eyed the little white dots that lay sprinkled across her thighs like snow flurries just touching the ground, about to melt away.

  He rubbed a hand on the inside of one of her thighs, blazing a trail of heat all the way to the juncture between them. Lightly, he teased her clit, but only for the briefest of seconds.

  That was all it took to have her sucking in a desperate breath, barely breathing as every nerve ending in her body sparked with sensation. She ached for him to repeat the motion – to touch her, harder and for longer – but instead he planted his hand firmly on the inside of her thigh and knelt.

  She knew his knees had to be resting in spilled sugar and worried that they’d be cut by broken glass. He seemed careful though, moving slowly, and she couldn’t say a word as his breath streamed hot against her thighs, then between them, touching her where his fingertips had moments ago.

  Little dots of sugar disappeared from her thighs, kissed away, and each time he drew closer to where she craved his touch the most. Tension simmered and built inside her, pulling her nerves tight. When he finally pressed his open mouth against her pussy, she arched back, breathing a long sigh.

  She’d lost the ability to
form words. The ability to move, too, except for involuntarily. Her hips rocked, even though she fought to hold still, not wanting to throw off what he was doing because it felt perfect already. Up and down, he ran his tongue over her clit, then below, teasing her, dipping into dampness.

  Maybe sugar had fallen on her there, too. He tasted her like it had, like her skin was sweet, and the motions of his tongue against her hyper-sensitive skin were almost more than she could bear. Moments into it, she knew she’d come against his mouth, against the counter, long before they progressed beyond what seemed too intense – too satisfying – to call foreplay.

  Oral or not, it was sex, and her entire body buzzed with the thrill of it, making her feel like she’d come to sudden life, pulled out of a static existence by the touch of Tyler’s hand and tongue, the rush of his breath against her slick skin. She’d felt a thrill the first time she’d seen him, in the hospital corridor, and now it felt like that had been a tiny prelude to this, a harbinger of what was to come.

  Pleasure hit her like a wave, and if it had been that, it would’ve knocked her feet right out from under her. As it was, she gasped, going tense against the counter as he tightened his hold on her thigh in response, squeezing. She felt everything so intensely she could barely breathe, from the gentle lash of his tongue against her clit to the fine grit of stray sugar granules beneath her thighs, sweetness trapped between her body and the countertop. Every sensation drew her core a little tighter, echoing the bliss that pulsed through her, wrenching out ecstasy that was marked with ragged gasps from her and intense silence from him.

  By the time her climax ebbed, her fingertips ached from being pressed so hard against the edge of the counter, a surface she held on to desperately. As the sense of urgency faded, she relinquished her death-grip, peeling her fingers away.

  Tyler rose, standing slowly, eyes locked with hers.

  She couldn’t look away, not even to stare at his naked body or the hardness that brushed the inside of her thigh as he leaned toward her.

  He kissed her again and she tasted herself, not sugar, on his lips and tongue. The realization sent a thrill through her, one she hadn’t expected. She liked that he tasted like her, almost as much as she liked the feeling of his heated flesh sliding up her thigh, impossibly smooth and hard, enough to make her core clench again.

  He was so close – another few inches, and he’d be inside her. She was close enough to the edge of the counter, and his hips fit snugly between her open thighs … there was only one thing stopping them, and when she realized what it was, her heart lurched.

  “Do you have any protection?” she managed to ask when their lips parted. Her heart sped ahead as she waited for his answer, more anxious over his reply than she ever could’ve imagined being. Her orgasm was only minutes in the past, but she wanted to feel him deep inside her, wanted to feel that same satisfaction radiating from him as he came, too. She wanted it with an intensity no one else had ever brought out in her, and she searched his eyes, seeking an early answer.

  “Yeah.” His lips gleamed faintly in the overhead lighting, still damp as he replied.

  She missed the feel of his hands on her body, his cock against the inside of her thigh, as he turned to pick up his jeans and fished his wallet out of a pocket, pulling out a condom.

  The sight of the package between his fingertips filled her with mingled relief and excitement. She might be caught in the grip of passion she hadn’t known she’d had the capacity for, but she had her limits and was glad to see he did too. The thought of going bare with him lurked in the back of her mind, a forbidden fantasy, for the time being.

  She was still careful, even if only in this way. Knowing they’d be physically safe made the gamble she knew deep down that she was taking seem safer, somehow.

  He tore the foil in a single motion and sheathed himself just as quickly, rolling latex over the head and down the shaft of his dick until it was hugged by the transparent sleeve. And then he was leaning in, gripping himself by the base as he guided the head to the wetness between her legs, the slit he’d traced and tasted with the tip of his tongue.

  Without hesitation, he pressed himself inside her, sliding slow and deep on the first stroke, laying a hand on her hip – the one without fresh ink.

  She gasped, arched and rocked a little against the unforgiving countertop, not caring that she accidentally brushed a hand through the sugar pile, scattering it further. He was hard and thick inside her and the way her body stretched to accommodate him there was the best thing she could ever remember feeling. Fighting to focus, she raked her gaze up and down his body, taking in everything from the tattoos scrolling bold and black beneath one broad shoulder to the trail of dark hair leading down to where he was joined with her, their bodies linked as tightly as a lock and key.

  Reaching out, she snaked a hand around his side, gripping his back and letting her nails dent his skin, wanting something to hold on to as he pulled back and rocked into her again, harder this time.

  She looked up and saw the same intensity she felt inside reflected in his eyes, but only for a moment. After that he leaned in, kissing her again, amplifying the pleasure of feeling him deep inside her as he slipped his tongue far into her mouth too, echoing the way he filled her below.

  Kissing him back, she relished the rhythm that built between them, driven by his hips and manifested in her pussy, her mouth. She slipped her hand below, gripping one muscular ass cheek, and squeezed.

  He fucked her harder, hips bumping her thighs, cock sliding farther inside her, touching a place that made her want to squirm. When she was about to succumb to the urge, he thrust a hand between her legs, applying pressure to her clit with his fingertips and rubbing, circling.

  It was too much. Too much to endure without coming again, anyway. As he thrust into her, tension built in her core, drawing it tighter around the shaft of his dick. They were still locked in a kiss when she came, her moan making it past her lips but not his.

  Coming with him inside her felt even better than the first time. Her core wrenched around his cock and he didn’t slow down, didn’t relent. Instead, he drove her second climax to a higher peak than her first, rocking more forcefully each time she tightened her grip, clinging as all the air rushed out of her lungs, lost.

  She came down gradually, but he’d pushed her so hard and so high that it still felt like crashing. Thighs trembling, she still held on to him, liking the feel of his muscles flexing beneath her palm, his hip rubbing the inside of her forearm. Even after their kiss ended, she was still so intimately connected with him that letting go would have felt like giving up something precious, addictive.

  She didn’t want it to end, and at the same time, she did. Not because she wasn’t enjoying it anymore, but because she could feel tension mounting in his body, making his muscles go a little harder. And was it just her imagination, or did his shaft swell a little more inside her? He felt harder than the countertop, his flesh just as unforgiving as he stretched her pussy in new ways, moving with unmistakable purpose.

  When he came, it would be hot, satisfying in a way she couldn’t exactly explain. Gripping him internally, she rocked her hips a little too, encouraging.

  He groaned and tipped his head forward, gorgeous eyes squeezing shut as he held on to her hip more tightly than ever, driving himself into her with delicious force, hitting that sweet spot with each stroke, making her gasp too.

  His breath rushed hot against her forehead, sending a few curls flying as he thrust deliberately, holding her fast to him as the muscles and sinews in his forearms stood out, rippling beneath their cover of ink. It was unmistakably the sexiest thing she’d ever seen, ever felt.

  When it was over he stilled but didn’t pull out. Not at first. Instead, he kissed her, and that sent a whole new thrill through her, one that lasted after he withdrew, peeled off the condom and tossed it out in the waste basket beneath the sink.

  Piece by piece, he picked up her clothing and handed it to her be
fore retrieving his own. Then, before she could climb down from the counter herself, he lifted her, setting her down far away from the broken glass that glittered against the linoleum.

  “How about a cup of that coffee?” he asked, tipping his head toward the forgotten brewer, which boasted a full, steaming carafe. “We could drink some and stay up late. You could stay the night.”

  * * * * *

  Steam filled the bathroom, a soap-scented fog that clung to Mallory’s skin as she stepped out of the shower. Hesitating for a second, she eyed a towel that hung on a hook on the bathroom door. Was it Tyler’s? The idea of using his didn’t bother her – in fact, it gave her a little thrill – but she also remembered that his brother had been staying with him lately. After a moment’s deliberation, she opened the narrow closet across from the sink and took a fresh towel from a small stack.

  Once wrapped, she stepped out into the hall, breathing in air that was cool and fresh in comparison to the steam she’d just stepped out of. It was laced with the scent of coffee, too. Unable to fight a smile, she breathed deeply, memories of the night before flooding back to her.

  She hadn’t gotten much sleep. Still, she felt energized. After their countertop adventure, she and Tyler had shared way too much coffee and then – in his bed – way too much sex. If there was even any such thing. With him, it didn’t feel like it. Sure, she ached a little in her core where he’d been, and she could feel remnants of last night’s strain in her inner thighs. But she didn’t mind at all. Even an ache was a sweet reminder of what they’d done.

  The coffee maker gurgled from out in the kitchen, and she took a step forward, her bare feet silent against the carpet. Notions of dropping her towel on the kitchen linoleum and cozying up to Tyler again flitted through her mind, but they were cut short when she heard a voice.