25. Thalia
Chapter twenty-five
Thalia
My plan is working wonderfully.
I hum to myself, feeling lighthearted and happy as I finish cleaning my tattoo gun. The final touch of the bright pink gauze wrapped around the grip makes me smile fondly at it as I ghost my pointer finger over the vials of ink I have.
“Hmm,” my mouth twists, “not blue or green. I think black or red would look really good on him.”
I hold both vials in my hands, tilting my head back and forth until I finally decide on the red ink. After the last two hours he’s spent in my shed without contact, this will be a shock to his system.
My plan is simple, really.
Make leaving impossible—give him all the pain he craves, weave him seamlessly into my life, and fuck him so good he can’t think straight anymore. We’re going to have so much fun, and he won’t even remember his life from before.
Okay, maybe this is a little psycho of me, but I’ve never…felt this way about anyone before. Not even Brooks.
When I think of Reed, my stomach breaks out in flutters, and I just want to stare at him. He really is the perfect pet.
I gather my supplies in my arms before skipping out to my backyard.
The sun has set as nighttime creeps around the compound.
Muffled music bleeds from Dale’s bar a few acres down, and I’m more than certain everyone is taking this time to regroup and strategize before we attempt to close in on Brooks again.
I give it a few days before Rowan calls a meeting to discuss our next course of action.
The shed door creaks as I push it open, the warm night air wrapping around me.
Reed is exactly where I left him—strapped to the chair, his wrists bound behind his back, his chest rising and falling in slow, controlled breaths.
His skin glistens under the single bulb hanging above us, a sheen of sweat making him look like some kind of offering. My offering.
I set the tattoo gun and ink down on the small metal tray beside him, the clink of the vials sharp in the quiet.
His head lifts slightly, those dark eyes locking onto mine, pupils blown wide with anticipation.
He doesn’t speak. The way his lips part, the way his tongue darts out to wet them—he’s already begging.
“You’ve been such a good boy for me,” I murmur, running my fingers through his hair.
His scalp prickles under my touch, and he leans into it, just a little.
“So patient. So obedient.” My thumb traces his lower lip, and he sucks it into his mouth without hesitation, his tongue swirling around the pad.
I let out a breathy laugh. “Fuck, you’re eager. ”
I pull my thumb free with a wet pop and step back, admiring the way his body strains against the restraints. The ropes dig into his skin, leaving faint red marks that I’ll kiss away later. For now, though, I have other plans.
“Stand up,” I order, and he obeys instantly, rising from the chair with a grace that belies his bound state. I circle him like a predator, my fingers trailing over his clothed shoulders, down his spine, over the curve of his ass. He shivers, his breath hitching when I give one cheek a sharp slap.
“Such a pretty canvas,” I muse as I press a hand to his thigh. “I think I’ll start here.”
I guide him back to the chair, my hands working gently to unbutton his slacks.
He gets the idea as he begins to help as I undress him.
When he’s bared to me, his clothes discarded across the shed’s floor and his button-down ripped open, I use a hand in the center of his chest to push him down onto the chair, only to follow right after him.
I straddle his lap, my thighs bracketing his hips, my pussy hovering just above his cock.
He groans, his hips jerking upward, but I press a hand to his chest, pushing him back down.
“Uh-uh,” I chide. “You don’t get to touch yet.”
His dick is hard against my ass, the heat of it searing through the thin fabric of my panties. I grind down just enough to tease, my clit throbbing with need.
“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” I ask, my voice a purr. “Want to bury that thick cock inside me and ruin me for anyone else.”
“Yes,” he growls, the word rough and desperate. “Fuck, Thalia, please—”
I cut him off with a kiss, my mouth crashing against his, my tongue invading and claiming. He moans into it, his body arching up, but I pull away before he can deepen it.
“Not yet,” I whisper against his lips. “First, I’m going to sit on your face. And you’re going to eat me out while I tattoo my mark on you.”
His breath stutters, his eyes darkening with lust. “Anything,” he rasps. “Fuck, anything you want.”
I grin, standing up and shimmying my dress up so it bunches around my waist. Reed’s gaze drops to my pussy, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“I’m so wet already,” I murmur, running my fingers through my folds, gathering the arousal there. I bring my fingers to his mouth, and he sucks them clean without hesitation, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Good,” I praise, and his cock twitches against his stomach. I point to the floor at my feet. “Down, boy.”
As if in a trance, Reed slides off the chair before dropping to his knees before me. He looks up through his lashes, eagerness and desire battling in his eyes as he presses forward, and places a chaste kiss on my bare thigh before lowering himself into position.
One heel clicks to the left side of his head while the other clicks to the right.
I’m staring down at him, my pussy aching and dripping before I slowly lower myself to my knees.
I straddle his chest, my thighs bracketing his head, and sit myself onto his face.
His tongue is immediate, hot and wet as it drags through my slit, flicking over my clit.
I gasp, my hips rolling forward, grinding down onto his mouth.
“Fuck, just like that,” I moan, my fingers biting into the flesh of his stomach as I lean back and open myself to him. “Don’t stop.”
I reach for the tattoo gun, flicking it on with a quiet buzz.
As I get everything ready, I change my position so I’m facing away from Reed as I observe the blank canvas of his perfect body.
Every inch calls to me, beckoning me to lean forward.
I’m nipping at his flesh so hard that it’s leaving marks for me to follow.
Every bite causes Reed’s cock to twitch as more precum beads at the head and he groans gutturally.
The red ink glints under the light, and I press the needle to his skin, just above his hipbone. He jerks at the first sting, but his tongue never falters, lapping at me with a fervor that has my thighs trembling.
“That’s it,” I encourage, my voice breathy. “Take it for me.”
I work in slow, deliberate strokes, etching the first bite mark into his skin.
The design is simple—a crescent moon, jagged at the edges, like teeth sinking into flesh.
Reed groans against my pussy, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure through me.
I rock my hips, riding his face, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
“Fuck, you’re good at that,” I pant. “So fucking good.”
His hands flex behind his back, the ropes creaking as he strains against them. I can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding back, desperate to touch me and take control. But he won’t. Not yet.
I finish the first mark and move to the next; this one on his inner thigh, close enough to his cock that the needle’s buzz makes him twitch. His tongue works faster, harder, like he’s trying to distract himself from the pain. It’s working. My clit throbs, my orgasm building like a storm inside me.
“Oh god,” I whimper, my hips stuttering. “I’m gonna cum, Reed. Gonna cum all over your fucking face.”
He growls, the sound muffled against my pussy, and that’s all it takes. My back arches, my body shuddering as pleasure crashes over me in wave after wave. I grind down onto his mouth, my juices coating his chin, his lips, his tongue. He licks me through it, drinking me down like he’s starving.
When I finally do recover from my earth-shattering climax, tears are running down my face as I suck in a ragged breath. My thighs are fucking trembling with every pass of his eager tongue over my sensitive flesh.
“Stop,” I whimper.
He doesn’t. He continues to suck and lap at me as if I’m life-sustaining. My eyes roll as another orgasm slams into me, stealing my breath and my sanity. I scream out, tipping my head back as I abandon my arts and crafts and ride his face so hard I’m positive he can’t breathe.
“Fuck,” I curse, my voice wavering and scratchy. My whole body sags, spent with post-clarity as I finally lift my hips a little.
“Sit down, Thalia,” Reed growls.
“Nooo,” I elongate, shaking my head as my limbs quiver.
“Sit on my fucking face,” he orders. “I’m so close. I need you.”
He’s going to cum from eating me out…
That’s the hottest thing ever.
I lower myself back down, my thighs twitching at the first touch of his tongue as he nuzzles into me. His nose bumps against my flesh as I drip onto him. I’m becoming an incoherent mess as I try to focus on the tattoos I’m peppering along his body.
The needle buzzes with every pass, and my lines come out far better than I anticipated they would, considering how much I’m shaking. Reed’s cock is only inches from my face, and my cheek brushes against velvet steel as I lean forward to tattoo another bite on the inside of his muscular thigh.
I kiss his length; the heady scent mixed with his enthusiasm are making me drunk with him. His shaft twitches, his balls drawing up as he groans from beneath me, sending the vibration through my core.
An idea strikes, and I don’t hesitate. I raise the gun to his aching cock and press the needle into the base. He groans, his legs shaking as his climax rips through him. Cum spurts, painting across my face in hot jets as I take my time inking my initials into his skin.
This belongs to me.
Every part of him.