Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
Xander went to work early today because he said he needed to finish a sketch he didn’t complete yesterday. As I make my way over to Darkened Dermis at nine a.m. with a coffee in hand for both of us, I see the space is dark, but the door is unlocked.
I frown as I enter, noticing a light in the back.
Setting the coffees on the register counter, I walk toward it.
Xander is sitting on the small tattoo stool with his back to me.
His chest is bare, and he’s in front of a large mirror.
The tattoo needle in his hand is buzzing, and as I step closer, I can see in the mirror that he’s tattooing himself.
His eyes lift from his work, and our gazes lock in the reflection.
“Hey,” I greet, feeling like I’ve walked in on something private. “It’s already nine. But I can step back outside if you need quiet to finish that.”
“It’s fine,” he grumbles. “I’ll be done in a sec. Could you please lock the front?”
I frown but say, “Sure,” before walking to the front door to lock it.
I wonder if he’s concerned about a client walking in on him while he tattoos himself.
Is that even allowed? I’ve never seen someone tattooing themself before.
When I return, Xander has set the tattoo gun on the table and is wiping his chest with a cloth. “Would you mind applying some cream to it for me?”
“Of course,” I say, slipping on a black glove from his stack.
Squeezing a dollop of cream onto my finger, I step in front of him. He parts his knees, allowing me to stand closer, and his hands naturally find the back of my thighs. I grin at him, and he smirks right back.
I reach out to spread the cream to his chest and freeze.
There, on his right pec, amidst the dark that represents the abyss of his soul, is my name.
In a delicate and beautiful font, written in a shade of gray that almost blends into the black, yet you can clearly read Carolina.
It’s not as boldly highlighted as Clay on his left pectoral.
It’s more… shadowy?
“Xander,” I whisper, lifting my gaze to meet his.
He leans forward, kissing my lips softly, his hands gripping my thighs. “He is the light of my heart, forever illuminating my life. But you, you are the shadow of my soul. With you beside me, our souls intertwined in the abyss, the darkness doesn’t seem so daunting anymore.”
Tears fill my eyes, and I reach up, pulling him closer for a deep kiss. When we part, tears stream down my cheeks. “Xander,” I murmur. “You didn’t have to do this.”
He takes my hand, the one with the cream on my gloved finger, and guides it to his chest, effectively applying the cream himself using my hand.
“You mean as much to me as he does, just in a different, unique way. I wanted you to know that. To be sure of it,” he explains, releasing my hand.
“Xander, I—” I start again, but he holds my chin gently between his thumb and forefinger.
“Just say, ‘Thank you,’ ” he commands.
Looking into his eyes, I whisper, “I love you.”
His lips curve into a smile. “I’ll take that,” he relents, drawing me in for another kiss. “I love you too,” he murmurs against my lips.
He pulls the glove off my hand and stands, emphasizing the height difference between us once more. “Let me clean this up quickly, and then we can start on yours.”
I blink up at him in surprise. “Mine?”
“I still owe you one, remember?” he questions, lifting an eyebrow at me.
“Well, yeah, but I haven’t decided on what to put on the sleeve yet. I’m not sure—” I begin.
He interrupts with amusement in his voice, “Oh, not the sleeve. The sleeve is another matter. I’m talking about the Christmas present, and I have something in mind.”
“Xander, I can’t just tattoo your name on me. If I did, I’d have to add Clay’s and Joshua’s right beside it,” I state, folding my arms across my chest.
He grins. “I mean, I could do that. My name would just be the largest and first in line.” Seeing my skeptical expression, his gaze softens. “Trust me?” he asks.
I nod. “I do.”
I trust all of them with my very being.
He steps closer, letting his fingers weave into my hair. “You’re up for a little fun, right?”
“I’m not typically the fun type,” I counter.
He tightens his grip on my hair, causing my head to tilt back. The initial sting rapidly transforms into pleasure, and I suppress a gasp, my thighs pressing together.
Tilting my head to the side, he trails his tongue up my neck before whispering, “You’re a lot of fun. Fun-size, in fact.” Drawing back slightly, he meets my gaze. “This will be the best gift for all three of us. But only if you are good with being marked for us.”
I narrow my eyes. “Where?” His hand travels down to my backside, giving it a firm squeeze. There’s a challenging gleam in his eyes. It’s not as if anyone else would ever see it there, and it also turns me the fuck on. Like a little secret I’ll wear on me for them forever. “Okay.” I shrug.
He leans in, pecking my lips lightly. “Good girl,” he murmurs, sending a flutter through my stomach. “Now, take off your clothes.”
I open my jeans and wriggle out of them, neatly folding them over a nearby stool.
The tattoo chair beside it is prepped with a fresh paper cover and sanitized.
Just as I’m about to get on the chair, which Xander has adjusted for me to lay on more like a table, his deep voice halts me. “All of them.”
I turn to look at him, and his eyes roam my body, heat in them. I glance over to the front, but we are covered by a divider wall, and I locked the front door myself.
“Really?” I ask.
“I dreamed about you sitting naked on this chair the first time I tattooed you.” He steps in front of me, hooking his finger in my panties. “Take. Them. Off.”
I do as he says, and when I come up again, he puts his finger under my hoodie and pulls it over my head, leaving me in just my black bra.
Then he reaches behind me and unhooks the clasp with one smooth motion, hooking his finger in the front between the cups and pulling it off me.
His pupils dilate when my breasts wiggle softly from the motion, and he kneels in front of me, pulling me to him with a hand on my back.
He licks a swipe up between my breasts before switching to my left breast and biting my nipple, making me gasp.
“Dio,” I breathe out, squeezing my thighs together again.
“I want you on that table, glistening for me while I tattoo your perfect ass before I fuck you on it.”
Holy Jesus.
“Okay,” I whisper.
He grins and stands, putting his hands under my arms, and lifts me to sit on the papered surface. “Lay on your stomach,” he directs, sitting on his tattoo stool, still only wearing his black jeans.
He puts on new gloves, and as I look over, I see he already prepared another tattoo gun, needle, and black ink beside the metal table for me.
He takes the razor and starts to shave the top of my right ass cheek before sanitizing it.
It’s a bit cold laying here naked, but it only heightens my arousal, making my nipples even harder.
He lets his hand swipe up my thigh, and my pussy clenches. It’s all I can do not to squirm.
“Ready, pumpkin?” he asks.
“I swear, if you’re going to put a pumpkin there, I am going to another artist to let him cover it,” I warn, glaring over my shoulder at him.
He slaps my left ass cheek hard, making me twitch before he rubs the sting. “No one besides us is going to see this fine ass, say it.”
“If you’re going to put a pumpkin there—” I start again, but he lifts, grabbing the back of my neck, squeezing it, and making me gasp.
“Say, ‘No one is going to see my fine ass besides my men.’ ” He nearly growls.
“No one is going to see my ass besides my men,” I breathe out, and I’m getting so wet the dampness is starting to coat my thighs.
He lets go of me, and I hear him take a deep breath before murmuring, “Fuck.” He takes the tattoo gun and commands, “Now, stay still like a good girl.”
It stings a bit, but it’s even less than the tattoo on my forearm. The sting, his hands on my ass and thighs, me laying there naked—all of it makes me so fucking horny and wet, I bet I’m dripping on the table.
It takes half an hour before he finally finishes, saying, “Done.”
He wipes my ass with a cloth, applies cream, then removes his gloves before standing.
“Can I see?” I ask, but he pulls me down the surface by my ankles until only my upper body is lying on it. He unbuckles his jeans, and when I look back, he has pulled his huge cock out, already hard for me.
“You can look at it later. I need to fuck this pretty pussy now, or I’ll lose it,” he grunts out. “Let’s see if you can take me like this,” he says before his head nudges my entrance.
He pushes in slowly, and I moan, gripping the table as he fills me, pushing in inch by inch, stretching me so fucking good. Each of his piercings entering me and me being on my stomach makes them rub against my G-spot.
“Fuck,” he grits out.
“Xander,” I say on a whimper, and he stops immediately.
“Is it too much? Am I hurting you?” he asks, his voice filled with gentleness as he strokes my thigh.
I press back against him, “No, please, I need all of you.” I pant, craving the absolute stretch.
“Oh, I’m going to give you all of me,” he promises, pushing in again until I feel his pelvis press against me. “Fuck, you have no idea how incredible you feel, so tight, wet, and warm.” He leans down to kiss my spine, squeezing my thighs as he starts thrusting slowly before slamming into me.
I let out a small yelp, and he hisses through his teeth at the way my pussy clenches around him.
“Oh Dio,” I breathe out, feeling utterly filled, but it’s indescribably good.
“My good girl, taking me so well,” he grunts out, grabbing my ass cheek under the new tattoo and squeezing it, causing a mix of pain and pleasure. I hiss, my whole body quaking.
“Fuck.” He groans, and his hand travels to where we’re connected, gathering some of my wetness before circling my asshole with his thumb, never halting his rhythm.
“I’d love to fuck you here, but I might be too much for your first time.
Maybe Clay could take that honor.” The thought of Clay fucking my ass causes me to clench down on him again.
“You like that idea?” he teases, pushing a finger gently into me, making me grip the table tighter, gasping.
He pushes in further, and initially, it’s a sharp pain, but it soon morphs into an intense pleasure.
I can’t help but moan. “Mm… taking my cock and my finger, look at you,” he admires before pushing a second finger into my ass.
“Holy,” I shout, feeling stretched to the limit with him in both my holes.
He leans down, whispering next to my ear.
“This could be Josh and Clay, fucking both of your holes at the same time while you suck my cock.” Overwhelmed, I can only whimper, lost in the sensation of being completely full.
“I am sorry, pumpkin, but I need to fuck you hard and fast now. I can’t take this torture any longer,” he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss on my shoulder blade.
He pulls his fingers out of my ass and tugs me even farther down the table until I’m positioned perfectly against it.
He pulls both of my wrists behind my back, holding them there with one hand, starting to thrust again.
He pounds into me, taking me hard and fast as he told me he would, and I am lost in the sensations.
The paper rubs against my nipples every time he slams into me, pushing me forward, the edge of the table pressing into my thighs. The pleasure overrides any pain or discomfort.
I’m desperate to touch him, but with my arms bound, I am at his mercy.
“Such a pretty little pussy,” he praises.
It’s intense, and all I can do is surrender to the pleasure.
Xander’s left hand finds my clit, circling it. “I’m so fucking close, but I need you to come first, Car…” he grunts out, but he hasn’t even finished saying my name, and I am already shaking with my release.
I am so fucking worked up that just a few swipes from his finger have pushed me over the edge.
He slips his fingers from my wetness, my legs shaking.
Then, with a few more short, deep pumps, he grips my hips back against him, driving in so far there is no space between us, his hips grinding against me as he fills me with his warm cum.
He moans contentedly, showering my back with affectionate kisses. “Stay still,” he instructs as he pulls out of me.
I try to catch my breath, but after a minute of him being silent, I glance back to see him taking a photo. “Xander!” I shout.
“You’re absolutely stunning, pumpkin,” he praises, walking over to show me the picture.
My pussy is on full display, his cum is dripping out of me, and there, on the top of my right ass cheek, is my new tattoo. It reads Good Girl in a delicate script.
“You—” I start, wanting to cuss him out, but he hushes me with a kiss.
“You don’t want to be a good girl, but you certainly want to be fucked like one,” he growls out in a rough voice.
Well, I can’t really argue with that.
His phone chimes, and since it’s still in my line of sight, I catch the messages from Clay and Josh.
“You shared it in the group chat?” I ask, eyes widening in surprise.
“You’re our good girl…” he grins, “… and I sure can share.”
Josh
Lucky bastard.
Clay
Dreams really do come true.