Carnal: Pierced and Inked

by Simone Sowood

  “Oh, you’ll get my best all right. But it might take longer if you keep distracting me.”

  “I can deal with that, distracting you is my favorite thing.”

  “Mine too.”

  Her phone rings again, but she ignores it. It might be her parents again, trying to speak to her instead of leaving another voicemail.

  “Do you want to call your mom back?”

  “Yes, but later. I’m not ready to talk to her just yet.”

  “Why? I kind of expected you to spend the rest of the day on the phone with your parents.”

  “I’d rather talk to you right now.”

  I raise my eyebrow. “Talk?”

  Skye’s head tilts back in a devilish laugh. “No, not talk.”

  Get a Room

  (Skye)

  The only thing I want to do right now is feel Lawson’s arms around me. I need to press my body against his and let his warmth fill my soul.

  There’s no need for me to sort out my thoughts, because everything is crystal clear. I can no longer suppress my desire to be in his arms, because in his arms is exactly where I belong.

  Just hearing my mother’s voice made me happy, but hearing her say my father and her are proud of me flooded me with joy. He gave me my parents’ approval.

  Lawson’s mouth crashes against mine, and the hand that’s been resting on my breast squeezes.

  Even as I kiss him back, I choke back tears. My emotions are still spinning at a high velocity, but this time there’s only two of them: lust and love. Yes, even though I’ve never experienced it before, this intense emotion that has crushed everything else can only be love.

  Not only will I never doubt Lawson again, I’ll never doubt myself again either.

  He’s proven to me that I am a good artist. A great one, even. I’d wanted to give up. I’d been on the verge of throwing away my dream and quitting to become a waitress.

  Now Lawson’s given me my dream back. And I have my dream man to go along with it.

  He presses against my back to hold me close. His dick is rock hard as he grinds it against me, I love what I do to him. I love what he does to me. I close my eyes and shiver at the thought.

  My heightened emotions have all morphed together into a raging ball of lust. As if a switch has been turned on, my panties are drenched already.

  I pull my lips from his and say, “Take me home.”

  “Can’t you feel how fucking hard you’ve made me? The only place I’m taking you is here.”

  He flips up the skirt of my dress and grabs my ass cheek. My eyes blaze in response to his words and touch.

  “We can’t. We’re in that guy’s office.” We can’t do this in here.

  “I don’t care.”

  “This is his hotel. Couldn’t we find a room or something?”

  “That would take too long.”

  I open my mouth to protest, but his lips are on mine so fast I can’t. I can’t believe we’re doing this in here. Or that we’re doing this at all. It’s definitely not the reason I came here for, but holy cow am I glad it turned out this way. To be honest, I don’t think I could wait to get a room anyway.

  Is the door locked? God, I hope the door’s locked.

  Lawson trails kisses down my neck, sending shivers over my skin.

  “Thanks for wearing such a little sundress today. When I saw you standing there in it, I was ready to pin you down in the middle of the lobby and fuck you until you screamed loud enough to wake everyone in the building,” he says into my ear.

  “You wouldn’t.” My heart pounds faster at his words, remembering how angry I was at him when I’d first arrived. And how that anger has vanished and been replaced with an intense need to feel him in me.

  “You’re lucky I got you this far.” His mouth connects with mine again, our tongues frantic as he continues to grind against me.

  I’m lucky all right, lucky I’ve got him.

  He edges his hand up underneath the skirt of my dress and drags his fingers over my panties. They travel over the cotton fabric between my legs, and he groans in approval.

  “You’re as wet as I am hard.”

  “You have that effect on me.” The tingling between my legs is intense, and I straddle his leg in an attempt to get some relief. Being in his arms, tasting him, and feeling how hard I make him, has me on the brink of orgasm already.

  Between kisses he says, “I can’t wait to bury my cock in this white hot heat. Is that what you want, Skye? You want me to fill your tight pussy until it’s a quivering wreck?”

  “Please,” I beg, my voice breathy.

  “Please what?”

  “Please, sir,” I say, trying to contain my smile. He’s wearing a suit today. I’ve decided I love the suit, the prick, as much as I love the T-shirt.

  Lawson growls at my words and says, “I was going for ‘please fuck me’, but I’ll take that any day.”

  He pulls his head away and surveys the room. I don’t know where he thinks this is going to happen. There’s nothing in this room except the desk and the table.

  He grips my shoulder and leans me over the table.

  “Stay there,” he says, releasing his grip on my shoulders.

  His hands slide down over my back, following the curve of my waist. He flips up my dress and yanks away my panties, exposing me. My breath is fast with anticipation, and my eyes closed while I wait for whatever he’s going to do.

  I flinch as his fingers part me and roam through my slick folds. A moment later, his hot breath blows across my entrance.

  My body is prickling, wanting more, waiting impatiently for him to touch me deeper. To do the things to me he does.

  His tongue lashes against me before dipping in and out of my entrance. He’s full on tongue fucking me, when he suddenly pinches my clit and rolls it between his fingers. I gasp and grip the edges of the table as the fervor in my body increases.

  I moan in protest when Lawson takes his tongue and fingers away. He licks through my folds until he reaches my swollen nub. Sucking it into his mouth, he flicks it with his tongue as his fingers push into my entrance.

  The sudden action forces a gasp from me. They move in a rhythm, pushing and tugging me until my hands are locked in a white-knuckled grip on the table.

  Lawson’s finger from his other hand moves in, and at the same time he takes his mouth away. His finger lightly presses on it and moves it in circles. I flinch as he bites down on my ass.

  “Stop fighting it, Skye, let yourself go and accept the way I make you feel.”

  His words are like a current of electricity over my body. All my muscles tighten then release in unison as a massive orgasm washes over me.

  I can’t control myself, a high-pitched noise escapes my lips. I’m still gripping the table tight, and I tip the whole thing up as I try to get his fingers deeper and deeper into me.

  “Fuck, yeah, that’s what I want,” he says.

  Lawson’s fingers don’t stop until I stop rocking the table. He slides his arm under my waist and pulls me up, spinning me until I’m facing him. Our mouths connect, my taste on his tongue arousing me all over again.

  “Sit on me,” he says, springing his dick free from his suit pants and boxers.

  He flops back into the chair, and urges my leg up. Straddling him, I hover over his dick. I wrap my arms around him, wanting to be as close to him as I can.

  I debate pulling off my dress and ripping his shirt open, but decide it’s not the best idea in this office. I settle for his kisses on my cleavage.

  Lawson grips my waist tight, guiding me into place. The tip of his dick is at my entrance, my pussy screaming out for more of it. I need all of him.

  My walls stretch as I sink myself onto him. I gasp as I let him take all of my weight. I’m stretched full of him, deeper than ever, and I fucking love it.

  Priceless

  (Lawson)

  Skye wraps her legs around me and the chair. Her hands fist my hair as we kiss, our tongues flick,
exploring each other’s mouths. I kiss everywhere on her I can reach, wondering how pissed she’d be if I ripped her dress open so I can get at her tits.

  My cock buried in her feels better than ever. She’s rocking her hips, making my dick scream in pleasure, and I hold the lower part of her body still, wanting this moment to last. The moment when my cock tingles like it never has before, happy it’s in the place it belongs.

  I’ve still got the taste of her sweet pussy on my tongue, and all the things I’m going to do to her when I get her home flash through my mind.

  “I loved having you bent over the table, seeing your sexy ass on display. You’re lucky I didn’t ram my cock right in it.”

  “Am I?”

  Fuck. I’m on the edge of plastering her walls in my cum, and I hold her close until my dick calms down. I swallow a few times, and try to block out Skye’s moaning. Even though it’s my favorite sound in the world, it’s too risky right now, I don’t want to blow yet.

  I stand, taking her with me. The carpet’s new, but I don’t want to put my angel on the floor.

  Still inside her, I move us the few steps to the desk and rest her ass on it.

  “Hold on,” I say, pulling out.

  We’d been in such a rush earlier, I’m still wearing my damn suit jacket. Having learned from Kelso’s house, I pull a condom out of the inside breast jacket and toss the jacket on the chair we’d just been sitting in. I roll the condom down my shaft as quick as I can.

  I grasp Skye’s hips and flip her over the desk, so her round ass is once again presented to me. I pause to admire the view from above, plump round cheeks with her juicy lips poking out underneath.

  Her pussy’s so wet and tight, I can’t wait to be back inside her. Sliding in and out of her slick heat, making those walls spasm around me.

  With my fingers, I part her opening and push my cock deep into her. She gasps and moans as I bury myself up to the hilt and start pounding into her.

  One of Rick’s books and some papers fall on the floor, but who gives a shit. I carry on pounding into her, my balls getting tighter and tighter with each thrust.

  The door to the office swings open, and Rick says “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”

  His voice is a momentary distraction, and I look over with a death stare. The door snaps shut and I turn my attention back to my Skye. I don’t even think she noticed.

  Skye’s moaning turns breathy, her body quivers in bliss. Her pussy spasms around my shaft, the heat squeezing me until I can’t hold back any longer.

  I grunt, my cock exploding into the condom with such force I hope it doesn’t tear a hole right through it.

  Sweat trickles down my back. My whole fucking body is screaming out in appreciation of Skye. For once, my body and brain are in complete agreement on what they want: Her.

  Skye’s quiet, her ribs rising as she sucks in big gulps of air. I pull out of her and flop back onto the chair.

  “Did someone open the door?” she breaks the silence to ask.

  “Who cares. Let’s get out of here.”

  Her face turns five shades of red, causing me to laugh.

  “Stop laughing, Lawson. It’s embarrassing.”

  “For him not you. You should never be embarrassed. Besides, you’re an artist, I’ll just tell him you needed inspiration.”

  She shakes her head at me, the corners of her lips turned up.

  Once we’ve adjusted our clothing and smoothed our hair, we make our way to the lobby. Skye sheepishly clings to me, but I don’t give a fuck if the whole world knows what we just did. In fact, I want the world to know about us.

  We exit the hotel, my arm around her waist. Skye’s old banger is parked halfway blocking the door.

  “Sorry, I hadn’t intended on staying long.”

  “Come home with me, I don’t want you out of my arms just yet.” Or ever.

  She looks at me and smiles. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  A smile spreads across my face. This day couldn’t turn out any better. I give her a squeeze.

  “You know, you’re going to need a safer car if you’re working with me. I can’t have you driving around in this piece of shit, it’s not safe. The paintings might get damaged.”

  “The paintings, huh?”

  “Will you say no if I said it was for you and not the paintings?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Then borrow my Range Rover until you can buy a better one yourself.”

  “You want me to borrow your car?”

  “Not really, I want you to have my car but I’m willing to settle for you borrowing it.”

  “Well, since it will make you happy, when do I get the keys?”

  “As soon as we get to my place.”

  We both laugh, and I still haven’t let go of her. Skye tries to pull away from me and toward her car but I hold on tight.

  “Let’s go in my car, we’ll get something to eat on the way to my place.”

  “My car’s here, I can’t leave it.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll have someone pick it up. And take it to the wreckers from here.”

  “Fine. Let me grab my stuff out of it.”

  Isn’t it much better when you trust me? I don’t think it would be a good idea to say that to her though.

  Skye grabs an armful of stuff, passing most of it to me.

  “Goodbye, piece of crap,” she says, patting the roof.

  With an armful of sweaters topped with a pair of sneakers, I lead her to my car.

  “It’s a Maserati day, is it?”

  “Most days are.”

  Her lips twist in thought. “I’m never going to stop fighting for the ninety-nine percent.”

  “I don’t expect you to,” I say, grinning. Her smile beams back at me.

  We dump her stuff in my car and get in. I rev the engine a few times, just for fun, and we tear out of the parking lot.

  “I’m starving. For some reason I didn’t manage to eat much yesterday or today,” Skye says.

  I look over at her and smile. “I know just the place.”

  We talk freely as we drive and it reconfirms everything I feel about her. She’s not after me for my money. She’s not interested in keeping me happy for fear of losing her free ride. All she wants is me.

  And all I want is her.

  “What are you doing?” she asks as I pull into the Chicken Chums parking lot.

  “You’re hungry, right?”

  Skye bursts into a throaty laugh, “You’re so awesome.”

  I lean over to kiss her cheek, but she turns her head and our lips connect. Skye’s priceless, and she’s mine. There’s no way I’m ever letting go.

  Epilogue

  (Skye)

  One year later

  I’m standing in my new studio, the one I bought all by myself! And even better, I now have three artists working with me to help create my products. Lawson likes to call them my disciples.

  Since accepting Lawson’s offer to create paintings for his hotel lobbies, my earnings have gone through the roof. I not only have a whole range in the hotels, but they’ve also converted them into prints, which hang in the hotel bedrooms.

  I also sell the prints to the public in a range of quality and price points, so something is affordable to most everyone.

  They’ve been snapped up, and hang in college dorms rooms and living room walls across the country.

  You can even get them on things like mugs, shower curtains and calendars.

  Most lucrative of all, I do limited-edition hand-finished and signed canvas prints of each painting, which I sell for a high four figures a pop.

  And the best thing of all? Every single one of my works challenges the concept of the division of wealth in the world. And thousands and thousands have sold.

  My message, so core to my being, is getting out. I might not change the world, but I’m trying.

  Soon after the day my mother left the voicemail, Lawson flew my parents out to California for a reunion. He even
put them up in his newest hotel, so they’d see my paintings every time they went in and out of the hotel.

  They loved it, though I’m not sure that was the reason he put them there. I think he was trying to reinforce to them how wrong they’d been not to support me.

  Meanwhile, they told everyone who entered the lobby that their daughter was the artist, whether the people were looking at my paintings or not.

  Lawson really did run that article on me. My parents provided him with enough stories of me to fill a novel, let alone three pages in a glossy magazine.

  As a result, people from all over the world now commission me for private works. Which I do for a mega-large fee, provided I have the time.

  It didn’t take much for me to convince Lawson I was glad I lost the Kelso commission.

  Kelso was so freaked by Lawson’s anger and threats that he practically begged to settle a few months later. Which Lawson used to his advantage, and got far more out of Kelso than the amount he was originally willing to settle for. Sucker.

  “This building is amazing, sweetie,” my dad says as we enter the main area.

  “I love it. It’s all my design, with tons of light from the two-story windows,” I say. I freaking love my studio.

  “It feels very industrial.”

  “It’s an artist studio, Dad. It’s supposed to feel like a warehouse.”

  “If you say so, you’re the expert.”

  I totally am the expert.

  Oh, did I mention my daddy’s here to walk me down the aisle?

  The studio has a magnificent industrial church-like atmosphere, and I couldn’t think of a better place to get married. We’ve cleared out all the stuff, which was no easy feat, and crammed it all into my office and back rooms for the day.

  Folding chairs in neat rows are packed with people, with an aisle down the middle.

  Lawson insisted on overflowing the room with flowers. He said for beauty, but really I suspect he’s trying to cover the smell of paints and paint cleaners.

  My dad and I are standing just around the corner, out of sight from the guests and waiting for the music to start.

  I peek around the corner and spot Lawson waiting for me at the makeshift altar.