Chapter 26 Pine #2
"But this tattoo is something else." My voice drops, not heavy, just honest. "It isn't about proof or ownership. It's about what we built before the bond ever happened. The part that came from us showing up for each other, day after day, because we wanted to."
Her breath catches, just a little.
"The bites tied our scents. This marks our story. Our choice. Something we made together because it felt right, not because our biology demanded it."
I tilt my forehead to hers.
"When people see it, they'll know you're ours, yes. But they'll also know we're yours. That this wasn't one-sided or instinct driven. It was mutual. It was us choosing each other long before any ritual."
We finish our tacos and walk back to the studio. The evening is getting darker, and the temperature is dropping. Sharon pulls her sweater tighter around herself, and I find myself moving closer to her, sharing my body heat. Our shoulders brush with each step.
Inside the studio, I get everything ready for the tattoo. I lay out my needles, my inks, my equipment. I sterilize everything and make sure the space is perfect. The antiseptic smell fills the air. This is going to be her first tattoo, and I want it to be absolutely flawless.
Sharon strips off her sweater again and reclines on the chair.
I adjust the position until she's comfortable, and then I'm preparing her skin.
I clean the area with antiseptic and mark out the design with a stencil so she can see exactly where the knot is going to be placed.
The purple lines stand out against her pale skin.
"You're sure about this?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.
"I'm sure," Sharon says, and her voice is steady. Her hands rest calmly at her sides. "Do it."
The needle buzzes to life, and I get to work.
The knot is intricate, but not so intricate that it's going to take hours.
My hands are steady as I guide the needle across her skin, creating the pattern line by line.
I'm aware of every movement Sharon makes.
I'm aware of the way her breath catches when I hit sensitive areas.
I'm aware of the way her scent shifts as she works through the minor pain of the tattoo.
Her fingers grip the edge of the chair occasionally, then relax again.
I work in silence except for the sound of the needle and the quiet ambiance of the studio. After about forty minutes, I finish the outline. I take a step back and admire my work, then show it to Sharon in the hand mirror.
"How does it feel?" I ask.
"It feels permanent," she says, running her finger carefully around the outline of the knot. Her touch is gentle, reverent. "It feels like it's supposed to be there. Like it's been part of me the whole time."
"That's how you know it's the right decision," I say, moving back to continue with the shading.
As I'm working on the shading, I give her an update on Ben. I know that my brothers and I said we wanted nothing to do with him, but at the end of the day, he's still our brother.
"He's completely gone off the grid," I say, focusing on getting the shading just right. The needle moves in careful strokes across her skin. "No social media. No contact with any of us. It's like he's trying to disappear completely."
"This is my fault," Sharon says quietly, and I feel a flash of anger run through me at the suggestion. Her body tenses under my hands.
"No," I say firmly, setting down the needle for a moment. I meet her eyes directly. "This is Ben's fault. He made bad choices."
"But if I hadn't investigated Penelope, you wouldn't have known about the will."
"We would have figured it out eventually," I say. "And even if we hadn't, that's not your responsibility."
I pick the needle back up and continue with the shading. Sharon is quiet after that, and I can feel her processing what I've said. Her breathing evens out as she relaxes again.
By the time I'm done with the tattoo, it's late evening. The studio is closed. The street outside is quiet.
I show her the finished product in the mirror, and I watch as her expression shifts from analytical to emotional.
Her eyes fill with tears, but they're good tears.
They're the kind of tears that come when something matters so much that you can barely contain the feeling. One escapes and rolls down her cheek.
"It's beautiful," she whispers.
"You're beautiful," I say, and I set down my equipment and move closer to her. "You're so fucking beautiful, Sharon. Inside and out."
She's still sitting on the tattoo chair, and I'm standing in front of her. The moment stretches between us, charged with something that feels inevitable.
I kiss her, and it's different from our previous kisses.
This one feels like it's happening in a space that belongs to us.
This one feels like it's happening in a place that I've marked as mine through years of work and dedication.
Sharon's hands come up and grab my shirt, pulling me closer.
Her lips are soft and urgent against mine, and I can taste the remnants of taco seasoning mixed with something that's just her.
I pull back just enough to breathe and look at her.
"I want you to knot me," she says, and her eyes are half-closed with desire. Her pupils are dilated.
"Here?" I ask, even though I'm already moving toward the back room where I have a comfortable space set up for private consultations. There's a soft couch back there that's perfect for this.
"Here," Sharon confirms, following me. Her bare feet pad softly on the floor. "In your space. In your studio. Where you've spent so much time creating beautiful things."
I close the door to the back room and lock it. The click echoes in the small space. The space is dim and intimate, lit only by the soft glow of the lights from the front studio filtering through the glass partition.
Sharon pulls off her sweater completely, and I follow suit, stripping my shirt over my head. Her eyes track every movement I make, and I can smell her arousal building with each passing second. The knot I just created on her ribs is already starting to look like it's been part of her forever.
"Come here," I say, settling onto the couch and patting the space next to me. The cushions dip under my weight.
She straddles my lap, and I can feel the heat radiating off her.
Her hands find their way into my hair, and she's kissing me like she's trying to memorize the feeling of my mouth against hers.
I grip her waist, my fingers splaying across her bare skin, feeling the warmth of her. Careful to avoid the fresh tattoo.
"I love you," she says against my lips.
"I love you too," I say, and I mean it with every fiber of my being. "I have since the moment you walked into my studio looking terrified and overwhelmed."
I move my hands down to her pants and she lifts her hips so I can slide them off. She's still wearing her bra, but her lower half is completely exposed. The knot tattoo on her ribs catches the light, and I run my fingers over it carefully, feeling the slight puffiness of fresh ink.
Sharon reaches down and helps me out of my pants. My cock is already hard, already ready for her. She positions herself over me, and I can feel the heat of her arousal as she starts to lower herself onto me.
The slide is perfect. Tight and warm and absolutely everything I've been craving since the first moment I smelled her. I grip her hips and let her set the pace, let her control the depth and the rhythm. This is about her pleasure first. This is about making sure she feels absolutely perfect.
She moves slowly at first, savoring each inch of me, her breath coming in shallow gasps. I watch her face as she works, watch the pleasure wash over her features as she finds the right angle, the right pace. Her head tilts back, exposing the long line of her throat.
"Yes," she moans, and she's moving faster now. "That's perfect. That's so perfect."
I let her ride me, let her take what she needs, but I'm building up to something more intense. My knot is starting to form, swelling at the base of my cock, and Sharon gasps as she feels it.
"Oh god," she says, her movements becoming more urgent. Her nails dig into my shoulders. "I can feel it. I can feel you getting ready to knot me."
"Are you ready for this?" I ask, even though her body is already answering that question. She's clenching around me, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
"Yes, I'm ready," she says. "I've been ready since I walked into your studio today."
I flip us so she's underneath me, and I'm controlling the pace now. The couch creaks beneath us. I push into her deep and hard, feeling her body adjust to accommodate me. The knot is swelling faster now, and I'm aware of how close I am to tying her to me completely.
Sharon's nails dig into my back, and her head is thrown back as pleasure washes over her. Her scent is overwhelming, intoxicating, calling to every primal instinct I have as an alpha.
"Now," she gasps. "Now, please, now."
I slide deep into her one final time as my knot expands completely, locking me inside her. The sensation is intense and overwhelming. She's clamped down around me, and I can feel her orgasm ripple through her entire body as my knot catches inside her, locking us together.
"Oh my god," she says, her voice shaking. "Oh my god, that's incredible."
I stay buried inside her, my knot keeping me locked in place as we both work through the intensity of what just happened. My forehead is resting against hers, and I can feel her heartbeat gradually slowing to match mine. Our breaths mingle in the small space between us.
She reaches up and touches the knot tattoo on my arm, tracing the line of it with her finger. "Everything is connected," she says softly. "You, me, the knot on my skin, the knot inside me."
"Yes," I agree.
We stay like that for as long as we can, locked together on the comfortable couch in the back of my studio. Eventually, the intensity of the knot fades, and I can slide out of her. She settles against my chest, her head resting over my heart.
"I want to get the phoenix next," she says sleepily. Her voice is drowsy and content.
"What?" I ask, running my fingers through her hair.
"When this one has healed," she says. "The phoenix. Something that shows I'm me. Who I am now. Rising from everything I went through."
I smile against the top of her head. "We can do that. We can design something different. The phoenix for you, the knot for us."
Sharon falls asleep on my chest, breathing slow and warm against my skin.
I keep my arms around her and let the quiet settle over us.
My whole studio feels different with her here, like every line of ink and every piece of art finally makes sense.
I look at her and know one thing with absolute certainty.
I will never get enough of this woman, and I don't want to. Not now, not ever.