over my bottom lip. His eyes are dark and intense.
“You sure about this?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Rose,” he growls. “Use your words. I’m only going to do this if you really want it. You have to have forgiven yourself. Be ready to move forward.”
He rests his forehead against mine, and I place my palms flat against his chest, the beating of his heart creating a gentle thrum against my skin.
“I have,” I whisper. “I’m ready for the future. No more blame. It’s time to start living again. Dad would have wanted that. You made me ready, Dax.”
He curses under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he snakes a hand around the back of my neck and presses his lips to my forehead.
“But if you don’t want to, then it’s okay. I can ask someone else—”
“Rose.” His grip tightens on my neck, and he drops his head, his eyes snapping open. “No one gets to lay a finger on you, on your skin. Except me. Understand?”
I bite my lip to hide my smile. The truth is I wouldn’t let anyone else do this for me. It has to be Dax. But I love the way he gets possessive over me. The way his heartbeat increases. The way his eyes flash. The way he sucks in measured breaths through his nose like he’s trying to control himself. And especially the way his neck muscles tense, and the wings of his bird tattoo ripple on his skin.
All at the thought of anyone else touching me.
But he should know by now that I only trust him enough to do this.
“I understand.” I press a gentle kiss to his lips, and he exhales.
“Fine.”
“Fine?” I bounce on my toes, excitement fizzing in my stomach.
He narrows his eyes at me, the corner of his lips curling the slightest amount as I wrap my arms around his neck and reach up to kiss him again. He drops his hands to my waist and groans as I press my breasts up against his chest and suck on his bottom lip.
“Take off your top before I change my mind,” he grumbles.
I move back and grin as I grab the hem of my off-shoulder t-shirt and pull it up over my head.
“Fuck, Sunbeam. Are you trying to kill me?”
I giggle as Dax’s eyes drop to my bare breasts.
“What? I can’t wear a bra with it, you can see the straps.”
He curses under his breath again as he takes my hand and leads me over to the bench.
Dax said Scott, the guy whose shop we’re in, has been a friend of his for years. From way back when they were kids. He’s who taught Dax how to do this.
“Do you know what you want?” Dax asks as I get comfortable, face down on the bench.
“Whatever you choose. I trust you.”
“Rose,” he scoffs. “This is permanent.”
“I know.” I give him a soft smile as he frowns at me. “Okay, fine…” I allow my gaze to wander over the bird and flowers on his neck. The ones just like his mother’s favorite mirror that he gave me. “Give me something that will make me remember Dad.”
Dax purses his lips, studying me for a heart-stopping moment.
Please don’t say no.
Finally, he nods, his expression somber. “Where?”
I don’t think I’ve ever stayed so still for so long. I’m terrified if I move, I might break Dax’s concentration and he’ll make a mistake. He looks so serious, his eyes fixed on my shoulder as he works. He glanced at me once a while ago, and I swear he was about to smile, but then he got all straight-faced again and his full attention returned to his task.
To the surprise he’s creating for me. A symbol of the future Rose. The one who isn’t going to live in the past anymore.
I wish Dad could see us now. He’d like Dax, I know he would. And he’d never for a second believe that I am actually here, doing this. I’ve never wanted one before. Never really liked them that much.
Until Dax.
He’s changed everything.
“Almost finished.” His warm breath flows over my skin with how close he is.
I turn my head as much as I can without moving my shoulder. The needle buzzes as Dax passes it over my skin. It stings. But it’s going to be worth it.
“What is it?” I try to read his face, but he gives nothing away as he finishes and turns the machine off.
“Patience,” he tuts, earning himself a huff from me. He dabs at my skin with a wipe, and finally smiles as he looks from my shoulder to my eyes. “Okay. It’s done.”
I sit straight up, ignoring the heat in my skin and turn my head, but although I can see some of it, I can’t make it out properly.
“What is it?” I ask again, twisting and pulling my arm down.
“Stay there.”
He moves away and then returns with a small mirror and hands it to me. “Go stand in front of the one on the wall and use this.”
I take it and rush over to the large wall-mounted mirror and spin around, not caring that I’m still naked from the waist up. I angle the mirror until I can see it.
My new tattoo.
“Dax…” A smile stretches across my face as I study the delicate design.
He’s drawn the outline of a cloud, and inside, the word Silver in beautiful, fancy script.
“You gave me my own silver lining.” I blink and swallow down the lump in my throat.
“You are the silver lining.” He comes to stand next to me, his eyes fixed on mine, his voice serious. “It’s always been you. Look at this if you ever need reminding.”
I nod, pressing my lips together as my eyes mist over. I won’t cry, even though my chest is burning with emotion. I never cry. My ability to disappeared after Brett’s accident. I used to think it was because I didn’t deserve to cry. Why should I do something that might cause people to show me sympathy when I deserved none?
I need to forgive myself and move on, and I intend to, I really do. I’m in a much better place since coming to England. Yet somehow, I still can’t give myself that. I can’t give myself tears.
Not yet.
Dax stands next to me, close enough for his warm body to provide a comfort to me, that only he can, but also with enough space for me to take in this moment for myself. Take it in and understand how much it means.
“I know you’ll still have days when you think the world only sees your worst. But I’ll always see your best. Always.” His eyes meet mine in the mirror and emotion overpowers me, making me turn to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face into his chest.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For everything.”
He strokes my hair, holding me as I sink into his strength, his calmness, his love. Because although he hasn’t said it—even though I thought he was about to say it at the campfire a couple of nights ago—I know he does.
I mean, I pray that he does.
Because if I love him as hard as this, where I feel like I would splinter into a million pieces if this were to ever end between us, then he must feel something too.
He must.
I breathe in his scent, content to stay wrapped in his arms for longer. He’s been distracted since the campfire. Quieter. More serious, even for Dax. And he’s not mentioned anything else about what he needs to do. What this big thing is that he needs to sort out.
I don’t want to doubt him. I trust that he’ll do it, whatever it is. Because he’s always kept his word.
But the gnawing sensation in my gut tells me it isn’t that easy.
Whatever Dax has been keeping to himself, it’s big.
What if he can’t walk away easily? What if it’s not up to him? What if he’s in too deep? Or in trouble?
I tighten my arms around him, and he runs one hand up and down my back.
“You’ll need a dressing on it for a few hours,” he murmurs into my hair.
“Okay.” I squeeze him one more time and he extracts himself from my arms and goes over to the counter to get a sterile covering, keeping his back to me. “Why are you avoiding looking at me?”
He shakes his head with a grumble as he flicks through a box of individually wrapped dressings.
“Rose, you just let me ink your virgin skin. And I’ve spent hours beside you while your incredible tits are bare. I’m a man on the edge here.”
“You are?”
The muscles across his shoulders ripple beneath his t-shirt, straining against the fabric, before he glances at me over his shoulder. His eyes drop to my nipples before he turns away again. “Hanging over the fucking edge,” he mutters quietly.
I walk over to him and gently slide his t-shirt up his back so that I can press my nipples to his bare skin. Then I wrap my arms around his waist.
“Rose,” he hisses as I drag my hardening nipples over his skin.
“Dax,” I hum back playfully.
He grumbles as I press kisses between his shoulder blades. I don’t know why he’s acting all virtuous. He fucked me against the wall in the shower this morning. And he showed no mercy while he thrust into me so deeply that he made me come three times before he finally let himself explode inside me.
I can still feel him, making my panties wetter as my body slowly releases what he left inside me.
“You need to rest your shoulder. You can’t lie on it or press up against it.”
“Then get behind me,” I whisper, snaking my hands up over his pecs and then running my nails down his abs.
He sucks in a sharp breath, tensing. I love the effect I have on him. I’ve gone from only really knowing my own body since meeting him, to being this insatiable sex-addict who can’t get enough of him. I want to touch him all the time. Feel him. Kiss him. Have him inside me.
“Please,” I purr, dropping a hand to palm his rock-hard cock through his jeans.
A low growl leaves his chest as he spins and grabs me around the neck, smashing his lips to mine. He walks me backward toward the bench, his other hand unfastening his jeans on the way.
“Why can’t I say no to you?” he grumbles.
“Because you don’t want to,” I breathe against his lips.
His eyes darken and he squeezes my neck enough to send a buzz of electricity racing through my veins as he curses. Then he kisses me, his tongue seeking mine. My body softens, sinking into him, completely under his control.
“You want it, huh? You want this?” He pulls his cock out, which is hard, and glistening with pre-cum. His piercing catches the light and glints.
I lick my lips. “Yes.”
“You want me to fuck you? Fill you with my cock? Make you come all over it?” He turns my head and groans into my neck as I reach out and stroke him up and down, spreading the wetness around his tip.
“Yes, please,” I whimper as he sucks my neck.
“Then turn the fuck around and spread those pretty legs.”
I scrabble to do what he says, resting both palms on the top of the bench, my body tingling with anticipation. I arch my back, pushing my ass toward him.
“You might be a good girl,” he says, lifting my skirt and squeezing one of my ass cheeks hard until my skin stings. “But you love me fucking you like a slut too, don’t you?”
I cry out as he holds the back of my head and pushes it down until my cheek is squashed against the cool surface of the bench. Then he rips my panties to the side and slams inside me. His other hand grasps my hip and holds me still while he presses as deep as he can, hissing, as I stretch around him.
He pauses, buried to the hilt. Then he starts moving at his own determined rhythm.
I cry out with each hit he delivers. Punishing, hard fucks, which have my toes dancing against the tiled floor, and my pussy dripping for him.
Dax owns it all. I couldn’t possibly pick how I like it with him best. Slow, hard, fast, soft. Sex with him is an adventure I never want to end.
“You love it, don’t you?” he grunts as he fills me to perfection.
I pant as my orgasm builds. “Uh-huh.”
“Words, Rose.” My ass stings as he slaps it and then drives down, fucking me harder. He lets go of my head and grips onto my other hip so he can really push himself deep.
I twist to look at him over my shoulder. His eyes slide from mine to my new tattoo and back again.
“Fuck. You’re mine, Sunbeam. Fucking mine.”
We hold each other’s eyes as he pumps into me, and I pant with my mouth open. Then he looks at my tattoo again, and something dark and possessive fills his eyes.
Something primal.
“Fuck.”
He snaps his eyes back to mine and comes hard, growling my name like he needs it to exist.
I pant beneath him as heat explodes inside me, filling me.
“Rose,” he hisses. His forearms shake with the force at which he’s coming.
“Dax.” I clench around him, and his eyes squeeze shut for a brief moment, before he forces them back open. I moan beneath him and my body hugs him tight.
“Jesus,” he utters. “I couldn’t stop.” His movements slow and his arms stop shaking. “I was looking at you. At your skin. Knowing I did that. You let me do that.” His brow knots like he’s struggling to make sense of it. “Fuck. I never come before you.”
“It’s okay.” I gather my breath, relishing the fullness inside me where his body is still buried in mine.
“It’s not okay.” He pulls out and lifts me, turning me to face him. He strokes my cheeks. “You are my priority.”
“It’s fine, Dax.” I press a kiss to his frowning lips. He looks so angry with himself.
“It’s not fucking fine!” He grabs my neck and kisses me, running his thumb over my pulse. I whimper into his mouth as his other hand slides inside my soaking panties and he pushes two thick fingers straight inside me. “Jesus, you’re full of my cum. It’s running out of you.”
“I love it,” I murmur as his eyes drop and watch where I’m seeping all over his hand.
He looks back up, his eyes burning into mine. Then he drops to kneel at my feet and slides both hands up my thighs.
“Panties off. They’re ruined anyway.”
I look at him but make no attempt to move.
“Panties. Off.” His nostrils flare.
I stare back but stay rooted to the spot, enjoying the sight of him on his knees for me. All dark clothes, dark inked skin, dark eyes… dark temper. Some would call it passionate.
I do.
He’s so beautiful.
“Fine,” he mutters. His pupils widen as he digs his fingers through the thin lace and tears the lace strip clean in two, leaving it hanging in shreds from my hips. “Is that what you wanted? For me to rip your panties off before I fuck you with my tongue?”
He leans forward and sucks on my clit, maintaining eye contact. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” I breathe, dropping one hand to his hair and parting my thighs wider for him. “Yes.”
He makes a muffled noise of appreciation against me as he runs his tongue all the way from my asshole, over my pussy, and to my clit. He looks up at me, and there’s a shimmering puddle of his own cum cradled on his tongue.
“Dax.”
He holds my eyes and slowly brings his lips together and swallows. His neck contracts, and I stare at it as my clit throbs painfully with need.
“I’m going to clean you up. And then you’re going to fill my mouth with your cum. Understand?” His voice comes out gravelly.
I nod as my entire lower body shudders in anticipation.
“Words, Rose.”
“Yes.” I twist his hair between my fingers. “Please.”
He looks at me again, and then he sinks into me, sucking, licking, kissing, devouring. And each time I think he’s about to stop, he starts again, with even more determination.
He cleans me up until I’m grinding onto his face with need.
“You ready to soak me, Sunbeam?”
“Y-yes,” I moan as he sinks two fingers inside me and strokes my G-spot with a beckoning motion.
“Don’t hold back. I want you as wet as you were in the car after the balloon ride.”
I nod, inhaling with a gasp as Dax presses the pads of his fingers expertly against me inside and sucks on my clit.
“I—”
“Do it,” he growls, his eyes dark as he watches me.
I gasp again, climbing higher, every movement of him inside me, every flutter of his tongue against me forcing the pressure inside me to grow and grow.
“Fuck!” I scream, forcing myself to let go and not hold back against the feeling of complete submission as my body releases a gush of fluid over him. The tension in my clit bursts at the same time, sending my pussy into frenzied spasms.
Dax groans, pressing his mouth against me as I shake and pull his hair so tight, I’m scared I will pull it out of his scalp.
“Keep going,” he hisses as he buries his face in me and laps at my clit.
I continue coming over him in pulses, and he doesn’t slow his movements until I come again, crying out his name.
“No more.” My inner thighs tremble as the final waves begin to leave me and I struggle to keep my balance. “Dax. I…” I pant as my body turns to jelly.
He’s on his feet in a flash, holding me to him, his strong arms keeping me upright. I drop my face to his chest, my cheek resting against his t-shirt. Some of it is damp from soaking up the overflow of my release. Dax drank the majority up like he was dying of thirst.
“You taste so good. I want you to do that every day for me.”
I giggle against his chest. “Okay.”
“I’m serious.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. Then he sweeps my hair away from my shoulder and grows quiet. “Let me cover this for you. I should have done that first.” His voice is full of concern as he studies my skin.
I remain quiet as he takes care of me. He applies a dressing and helps me put my t-shirt back on, being careful not to disturb the bandage. We don’t say anything. But I catch his eye and he gives me the most breathtaking smile that has warmth blanketing my stomach.
When he’s done, he takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts my face up to him.
“You okay?”
Deep brown meets light blue, and I stall for a second, soaking in the way he looks at me.
“Rose, are you—’
I smile. “Yes. Are you?”
His face relaxes, and he smiles back. Then he kisses me on the forehead with a soft sigh. “Never better, Sunbeam. Never fucking better.”
