Chapter 44
Gatsby
"So, this is what's behind the locked door?"
Daisy stepped into my bare workspace, her eyes scanning everything. "It needs a little color."
Neal swung their legs over the seat, while I stretched and took care of my equipment.
"Look what I just got." Neal beamed, flashing their bicep.
"Do you want any second skin wrap for it?" I asked. The entire process was foreign to me. I'd bought all the equipment for a professional tattooist, but I'd never used any of it. I never bothered with stencils, wraps, or lotions when tattooing my dinner guests.
"Nah, that stuff gives me a rash. I'll take care of it," Neal said.
"This makes me so happy." Daisy sighed, turning in a circle. "I am so glad you're still pursuing your dream."
"Thanks," I muttered. "We can go downstairs in a bit. I'm almost done. You hungry?" I looked at my watch; it was almost dinner time.
"I had something before I came back over. I packed for a while. I think the staff thought I was moving out." She laughed.
I paused, raising an eyebrow.
Well, wasn't she?
She saw my thoughts on my face and blushed.
"Dinner does sound good. But you know what sounds better?"
Neal pulled out their phone and made an excuse about taking a call to give us privacy.
"What's that?" I asked as I tossed paper towels and my gloves in the trash.
"You, tattooing me."
I looked up and blinked.
"Maybe. Let's talk about it later. I'm starving," I lied. She frowned but stood back as I continued cleaning up. Once I was done, I ushered us out and locked the door behind me.
"Why do you keep it locked?" she asked as we started downstairs. Neal was long gone, but we found them in the dining room, being served already. I shook my head. They were getting comfortable here, which wasn't a bad thing, but I had a feeling wherever Daisy and I went in the future, Neal would be tagging along.
Tuth came by to escort Daisy to the studio after dinner.
"Are you okay with me leaving? I feel bad that I was gone all day," Daisy said.
"Where else are you going to dance? You need to maintain your skill, don't you?"
She stared at me for a long time, her eyes growing watery before hugging me tightly.
"Thank you." Her eyes took on a far-off look, and I knew she was thinking about her studio back across the lake. It wasn’t a studio; it was a cage.
"No need. I promised you I'd never put a dance space in our home, and I won't. Go, dance, my beautiful ballerina, and return to me in the evening. We'll do some dancing of our own together later," I flirted. She giggled, and Tuth groaned from behind us.
"You guys are like teenagers. Come on, let's go before Lilly tries to take your dance slot."
"I actually haven't seen her in a while." Daisy started away with Tuth and then stopped short. "Actually, it's been a week." She turned to question me, and I shrugged my shoulders.
"I have no idea if he took her with him. That wasn't part of my plan."
She frowned and left. I was sure that when she returned, she'd have forgotten about my tattoo room, but she was even more insistent after her shower. She found me in my office, hunched over some papers. She wore one of the silk nightgowns I'd bought for her. It was black with black lace. She sauntered in, her hair freshly dried and resting on her shoulders in soft waves.
"Hey, I'll be up shortly," I apologized. "What's up?"
"I was hoping I could convince you to do that thing we talked about earlier..." She came behind me and began to rub my shoulders. I racked my brain, trying to remember what we'd talked about. My cock was already getting hard.
"Remind me again," I requested.
She leaned down and whispered in my ear. "I want you to tattoo me."
"Daisy," I sighed and leaned back. "Why do..."
"Because you're an amazing artist, and I want to support your talent." She came around and pushed my chair out to sit on my lap and wrap her arms around my neck. She knew this was my undoing. I shook my head as she began to kiss me all over.
"I am the proud owner of your very first tattoo, and now I want more of your art on my body. "
"I don't know; I'm not that good." My lack of confidence was peeking through.
"Don't lie, you're good. Come on, right now, take me up to your secret room and poke me a million times."
"I could poke you right here..." I offered, my cock pulsing underneath her. She rolled her eyes.
"Maybe after, if you're a good boy and do as you're told..." She booped my nose, and I bit down on my lip. Jesus Christ, I could be her good boy...
Gripping her, I stood with her in my arms and then gently placed her on the floor.
"As you wish..."
I led her upstairs and unlocked the door. Flicking the light on, I let her go in first.
"You really need to decorate."
"Some day," I mused.
Some day, when my thirst for blood was sated, and I no longer needed to rid the world of its monsters. Some day, after my last dinner was served, I'd fill my workspace with photos of Daisy.
As my mind wandered to the dark places I was constantly battling to hide, Daisy hurried to my chair and hopped up. In her attempt to get comfortable, she flashed me under her dress. It was then I realized she had no panties on. My mouth began to water, and my mind went completely blank.
"Are we doing this or not?"
I could think of a million other things I'd like to do right now other than draw. I stared at her, her beautifully shaped legs, her luscious thighs, her full breasts. I wasn't going to be able to get through a tattoo session without wanting to toss everything aside and fuck her.
"Yeah, let me—" I struggled to think but forced myself to run through the steps. Sitting on my stool, I wheeled over to her.
"What do you want?"
"Daisies."
"Perfect." I smiled. "Where?"
"What if we did a chain of them, framing my knee-caps?"
"You've been thinking about this," I commented, grabbing my sketchpad from a table behind me.
"Me and Tuth discussed it on the way to and from the studio," she admitted. I began to sketch as she talked, and soon I had a concept to show her. I turned the pad, and she squealed in delight.
"Yes! Let's do that."
I went through the motions, creating the stencils, then placing them on her skin.
"This isn't exactly a soft place," I warned as I began pouring ink. "It's going to hurt."
"All tattoos hurt," she reminded me.
I gulped. "That they do."
I finished prep and sat, picking up my machine. "You ready for this?"
"I'm always ready for you to touch me, Gatsby." She sighed.
I took a moment to steady my hand before going in, and as I finished the first few lines, calmness engulfed me and I fell into the zone. It took one hour on the first knee, and then I spun to the other side and did the second. Finally, we were done, and I was helping her out of my chair and over to the mirror.
"I love them," she gushed, twisting her legs to admire the new tattoos. She raised her arm to see the one I gave her all those years ago as well. "You're the only one I want to tattoo me," she declared .
"You say that now," I teased, coming up behind her. "Just wait until we get out of this little place and start meeting real tattooists. You'll forget about me entirely.”
"Impossible," she sighed, pulling me closer. "Who could ever forget the great Gatsby?"
I cleaned up quickly and took her to bed, where gently, so as not to hurt her new knees, I made love to her. And in the morning, much to my surprise, she was insistent on going again, but not with sex.
"I need another," she begged.
"I mean, I could always use another orgasm." I pushed my cock against her belly.
"No, another tattoo."
"You're addicted," I teased.
"That's a lot of talk for someone covered in them."
"I had a lot of time on my hands and nothing to do," I told her, spreading her legs apart as I moved over her to fuck her gently again. She arched her back as I entered her, and she let out a relaxed sigh.
"Is it bad to want to be like everyone else?"
"What is everyone else?" I asked, as I began to thrust. She wrapped her arms around me and clawed at my back.
"Free."