The sound of her heavy breathing as she lies waiting for me is the only thing I can think about. Much like the second I saw her drawing sitting on her desk, inking it onto her was the only thing I could imagine the second I picked it up. The artwork is stunning, there’s no denying that. The detail she’s put into her small butterflies is incredible and only goes to prove that I don’t really know the woman I live to torment right now.
I debate with myself how I want to do this. I could do it black. It would still look incredible, and I’m sure she’d be more than happy with it. Or I could be a little more creative.
Making a decision, I get everything I need before turning around to face her.
Every muscle in my body locks tight as I take her in. Her white lace bra makes her look like the innocent woman she’s trying so hard to hide with the black clothes and biker boots so she fits in. I run my eyes over the curve of her cleavage, my fingers wrapping around the kit in my hands with my need to reach out and run my fingers over her. I already know her skin is like silk to touch; I can only imagine how incredible they’d feel.
My cock swells, desire sitting heavy in my stomach as I take in her slim waist, leather-clad hips and long, slender legs. The mix of princess meets badass is a combination I’m finding harder and harder to resist.
Dragging my eyes from her, I place everything I need on my table and wheel myself closer to her.
Clearing my throat, I prepare to reach out and touch her, hesitant as to what’s going to happen when we connect.
“So first one here, and then trailing around,” I nudge her so she turns onto her side slightly. “Then come to a stop about here?”
Her breathing gets more laboured with my touch, if that’s even possible, and her skin breaks out in goosebumps.
“Y-yeah, that sounds great. How… um… how long do you think it’ll—”
“Two hours ish. That okay, or did you have plans?” I’ve no idea why I’m asking, I have no intention of allowing her out of this room to spend time with anyone else.
“Oh um… sure. I was only going home to—” she gasps as I move her into position and prepare to start. “Bed.” She blows out a long, slow breath when I turn my gun on and her eyes flutter closed.
“Scared?”
“Of you? Yeah.”
A smile curls my lips that she’s willing to admit that. She scares the shit out of me too, but there’s no fucking way those words are falling from my lips.
“I’ll try not to hurt you… too much.”
“Those words fill me with very little confidence.”
I laugh, I can’t help it. I move the towards her skin. She flinches with the first scratch, but she soon relaxes. Shame I can’t say the same thing about myself, because I’m like a coiled fucking spring, and it only gets worse the longer I sit here with her so temptingly close.
Eventually, I get so lost in what I’m doing that I almost manage to forget whose body is laid out before me. Almost.
When I sit back and take in my masterpiece with a slight smile playing on my lips, it feels like no time has passed at all despite the crick in my neck and the beginnings of cramp in my hand after a whole day at it.
“Are you finished?” Her voice is soft, almost dream like, but I’m fully aware that this is real life. I really did just ink her design on her smooth, flawless skin. I’m also sitting here sporting the evidence of having my hands on her body for the past couple of hours.
I shift on the stool to try to loosen the fabric around my solid length. She looks over at just the wrong time and witnesses me doing it.
“You… uh… want to see?” Her eyebrows rise, but she doesn’t respond to my dumb arse question. Of course she wants to fucking see what I’ve done to her.
Wheeling over to the side, I grab a handheld mirror and hold it up so she can look at the reflection over her shoulder.
“Oh my god, Zach. That’s… that’s unbelievable.” She stares at my artwork, disbelief written all over her face.
“I thought those butterflies deserved some colour.”
“I never could have imagined…” she trails off as she continues to stare. My chest swells with pride that she likes it. Going for a watercolour effect was a risk, but I knew it would be incredible. “I can’t believe you just did that, from my sketch. You might be a wanker, Zach, but you’re a bloody talented one.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Take it however you like. We done here?”
“Yeah. Just let me wrap it, hang on.” I’m forced to get up to collect everything I need.
I make quick work of covering her new ink, but I can’t help but let my fingers trail over her skin a little more than necessary. Her little gasps of surprise along with the shudder that runs through her convinces me to continue.
Once I’m happy it’s all covered, I place my palm on her waist and turn her onto her back. Her eyes are tightly closed, but her pink lips are parted to allow her increased breaths to pass. Her chest heaves, her breasts swollen behind the fabric, only more evidence of how she’s feeling right now.
My fingers grip her waist tighter, and it’s the reminder she needs that I’m still here because her eyes fly open. Her usually grey eyes are dark, her pupils dilated with lust, and she sinks her teeth into her full bottom lip and sucks it into her mouth. My cock aches to feel just how hot that might be.
“Zach?” Her voice is no more than a breathy whisper that drags my eyes back to hers.
“Fuck,” I grunt, my need for this woman all-consuming. She’s the only thing I can focus on. How soft her body is under my hands, how sweet she might taste against my tongue.
Without giving myself enough time to be able to talk myself out of it, I lean over her. My hand skims her cheek and comes to rest across her jaw with my fingers threaded in her hair.
Her eyes bounce between mine, but at no point does she do anything to stop me.
“Zach?” My name is a plea on her lips, and it’s my undoing.
Closing the space between us, I slam my mouth to hers. She hesitates for a second before her lips part when I run my tongue along the bottom one and allow it to pass. Hers sneaks out to join in. Her taste explodes on my tongue, turning the fire already raging inside me up a notch.
The kiss isn’t my finest. Instead it’s hot and dirty. It’s teeth clashing, tongues duelling as we try to devour each other, putting everything we hate about each other into it.
She pulls my tongue into her mouth and sucks. I damn near lose my mind and come in my pants like a teenager. Needing more, I skim my hand up the smooth skin of her stomach and take her breast in my hand. I squeeze and she arches off the bed with her need for more.
With one goal in mind, I pull back from her lips, but only as far as her jaw.
“Zach, fuck,” she moans, the vibration of her voice tingling against my lips as I kiss down her neck.
I graze my teeth over her collarbone, dropping kisses around the swell of her breasts before I’m met with the fabric of her bra.
I continue my descent, over her ribs and down to her bellybutton. I dip my tongue inside, her hands fisting in my hair, pushing me lower to my final prize.
“Oh god, oh god,” she chants above. I know she’s watching my journey, I can feel her stare burning into me. It’s not until I hit the waistband of her skirt that I look up.
Her eyes are dark and pleading with me to continue, and her cheeks are flushed.
“I shouldn’t want to taste you so badly,” I admit, my hands running up her thighs and pushing the leather up around her waist, revealing a tiny white pair of knickers that are so sheer they may as well not be there. My gaze drops to her breasts, wishing the fabric there was just as see-through.
“The feeling’s mutual. I shouldn’t want you to this badly either,” she whispers, dragging my attention back up to her. Her eyes widen in shock as if she didn’t mean to say those words out loud.
Running my finger down her centre, I growl like a wild fucking beast when I find the fabric dripping wet. Every muscle in my body aches with my need to sink inside of her, but I fear that if I allow that to happen then I’m only going to crave a repeat. There’s something different about this woman to all those who have gone before, and I’m afraid it’s not a good thing.
Unable to wait any longer, I hook my fingers through the fabric at her waist and pull her underwear down her thighs. I untangle them from her boots until they drop to the floor.
Taking each of her ankles in my hands, I place her feet on the bed as wide as possible and stare down at her bare pussy.
“Fuck, Pussy Cat.” I repeat my earlier action, but this time there’s no lace barrier between us. Her heat damn near burns my finger as I dip it between her folds, finding her clit and circling it exactly as she liked last night.
She purrs above me, her back arching with pleasure, begging for more.
I drop my finger lower, dipping it inside her just slightly.
“Zach. Come on. Not fair.”
“Everything’s fair in love and war, Kitten.” Pressing my palms against the inside of her thighs, I spread her as wide as she’ll allow, drop to my knees and press my tongue to her clit. Her taste explodes on my tongue and I immediately know that I’ve just made a massive mistake.
Her moans of pleasure fill the room as her fingers tighten to an almost painful grip on my hair, but at no point do I let up. I’m fucking addicted, and I’m not stopping until I feel her coming against my mouth.
With my tongue teasing her clit, I push two fingers deep inside her. I hope to fuck that Spike and D have already left, because there’s no doubt they’d be hearing what’s going on inside this room. This prim and proper princess is able to let go it seems, and I can’t deny that hearing her chant my name as she nears release isn’t a huge fucking turn on.
I bend my fingers, finding that perfect spot inside her. Her hips leave the bed, but I pin her down with my arm over her stomach. My fingers thrust fast as my tongue picks up speed, my need to feel her, to taste her as she comes getting too much to bear. My cock weeps to be released and to bury itself inside her tight, velvety core, but first things first: I need her screaming.
“Come for me, Kitten,” I growl against her, and the extra vibrations must be what she needs because her muscles lock for a beat before she cries out my name and her body convulses beneath me.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chants as she rides out her orgasm. I don’t pull back until I’m confident she’s finished, and when I do, I can’t help the wide smile that spreads across my lips. I can’t imagine any guy wouldn’t feel at least an ounce of pride having made a woman cry out like that.
Movement in front of me drags me back to reality, but I still can’t wipe the grin from my face as I glance at her looking down her body at me. Panic fills my eyes and my stomach twists, knowing what’s about to happen. She’s shut down. Her eyes might still be glassy and dark from her release, but I already know nothing else will be happening between us. Not tonight, anyway.
“Fuck,” she murmurs, averting her gaze from me and staring at the wall. “I need to leave.”
My pleas for her to stay die on my tongue. I refuse to allow her to see that I need more from her. I refuse to allow anyone to see that I need them. That’s dangerous territory right there.
I stand and take a few steps back as she scrambles from the bed, pulling her skirt down to cover up and searching out her shirt that’s lying in a pile on the floor.
“This was… this was a mistake,” she whispers so quietly I almost miss it before she yanks the door open and all but runs through it.
My body urges me to chase her, to make her see sense and to take what I need, but the rational side of my brain knows that allowing her to run is the right thing to do.
Only minutes after she races out of my room do I hear the front door to the studio slam and lock behind her.
Falling down onto my chair, I rest my head back and close my eyes.
What have I just done?
