Chapter 33
MILLIE
My movements are automatic. Comforting, almost, despite how new they are.
The feel of the vibrating machine in my hands freaked me out at first, but with every stroke of it along Shade’s skin, I grow more comfortable with it. My work is terrible despite the movements becoming easier. The lines are crooked, and the curves are slightly squiggled.
I stare at the black portion of the design and focus on not jerking my hips forward hard enough that I send the needle piercing through his chest. The tension radiating off him is doing more to distract me than his handful of my backside or the steady stroke of his thumb over my bare stomach.
I’m too few moments away from discarding the tattoo gun and begging to mark him in an entirely different way.
“Millie,” he says, my name sounding like a curse.
What I want to say is already twirling around my tongue, tasting like a bad decision. If I let myself speak, it’ll escape, and I don’t see how we could ever move past it. He’d either reject me outright or accept me and then regret it after.
I keep it to myself and start on another section of the design. The chunky letters are the easiest part to tattoo. I’ve avoided the pool of ink, knowing that’s going to be the hardest.
His large hand follows the upward curve of my ass until he can stick his fingers beneath the string of my thong and loop it around one of them. I hardly get the needle off his skin before bucking forward, my other gloved hand smearing the excess ink on his chest.
“Bryce told me something a few weeks ago,” I ramble, breathless.
He loosens his pull on the string but doesn’t release it. “What’s that?”
“She said some people get turned on while getting tattoos. And that I should ask you about that.”
“Fucking Bryce.”
“It’s true, then?”
Because I’m not the one getting a tattoo right now, but I’m having a hard time not thinking about the tightness between my legs. And if the colour to his throat and the rigid feeling of his thighs beneath me isn’t a betrayal of him feeling the same way . . .
“How badly I want you right now has nothing to do with the tattoo you’re giving me, but yeah, it’s true.”
“How badly is that?” I whisper, holding the tattoo machine like I’m one moment from chucking it across the studio.
His eyes tighten at the corners, head shaking in refusal. “Finish the tattoo, Millie. Before I don’t let you.”
“Just answer my question,” I plead, my pulse skipping too many times. “Please.”
The way he’s touching me changes then. Caution turns to possession, making my arousal flame higher, singeing the both of us.
I let a moan slip free when he follows the band of my thong to the front and dips below it, into the gusset.
He finds how badly I want him and leans his forehead against my chest, cursing.
It’s euphoric watching a man like Shade lose control. To see the break in his controlled expressions and feel the slight tremble in his confident touch. I’m helpless to the words clawing their way up my throat, too desperate to be spoken.
“One last lesson.”
“There’s nothing left to teach you,” he grinds out, eyes flashing.
“Yes there is. And I want you to.”
I push the gun away from me, and he’s quick to take it before I drop it, putting an end to the buzzing.
Once it’s set on the cart, I don’t bother taking the gloves off before pinching the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head.
It falls to the ground as I kick off my heels, letting them join the fabric.
His expression turns pained when he says, “You already know how to have sex.”
“Not in this position, and not the way you’d show me,” I argue, trying not to preen when his focus snags on my breasts. “You’d make it good. Better than I’ve ever had it.”
“Don’t say that shit.” It’s a broken groan. His fingers part me, running through my arousal as he pulls a long breath into his lungs. “I’m not a saint.”
“I don’t want you to be.”
His touch grows more pointed, quicker. I drop a hand to his groin, finally feeling the way he’s responding to me, finding the obvious answer. Closing my eyes, I let pleasure ripple through me and palm his erection harder.
“All you have to say is yes or no,” I add, keeping perfectly still.
The ragged groan that kisses the lace cup of my breast tells me his answer before his mouth finds my collarbone, teeth nipping. “You want something, you can take the tip. Just the fucking tip, Millie, or I’ll take you too hard, too fast. I’ve got all my piercings in.”
That doesn’t help stifle my desire.
“Just the tip,” I repeat, but it’s thick with a disappointed whine.
The gloves on my hands disappear quickly as I peel them off and drop them on the floor.
Staring straight ahead, I’m met with an open view into the street in front of the studio.
The blinds for the window are still up, and from this position, it would be obvious to anyone who walked past that I was shirtless.
But I don’t think they would be able to see what we were doing past my torso.
Not with the back of the chair shielding us.
My pussy pulses in anticipation, dripping down Shade’s fingers as he continues to rub me.
He’s teasing me or himself, I’m not sure.
But when he fills my aching core with two fingers, it doesn’t matter.
I exhale into the small space between us and work the button of his jeans, then the zipper.
The moment I can push my hand into his underwear, I’m burying my face in his hair and moaning.
“So hard,” I murmur, stroking him softly as his piercings press against my skin. “For me.”
“Fucking right I’m hard for you, Millie. I’m always hard.”
His fingertips dig into my side as he brings them to the band of my bra.
I arch into his touch, pushing my breasts forward.
He leans back against the chair and traces the lace cup with a blunt nail, letting it make a pass over my stiff nipple without stopping.
I rock into the slow, stretching movements between my legs, nodding rapidly.
“Tell me what you need, princess. Need to hear you be crystal clear when you tell me that this is what you want,” he orders.
I set my hand on his shoulder, rolling my entire body forward. My thighs part further over his, bringing us close enough I can feel the heat from his cock against me when he slowly removes his fingers. I’m still gripping onto his shaft, refusing to release it as though it belongs to me.
“I need to feel . . . need to feel you inside of me. Even just the tip,” I beg, so far past caring about appearing desperate at this point.
It’s a miracle I can even speak without every word being an unrecognizable whimper.
“Take it, then, but don’t be surprised when it hurts us both to stop.”
The risk doesn’t matter. With a sharp inhale, I guide him toward my entrance and roll my hips. He palms my hip with one hand while bringing the other to my throat, holding me there firmly. He glides through my slit before we connect, the pierced tip bumping my clit repeatedly.
“Shade.” I whine this time, losing myself here.
He forces my head to stay up with his grip on my throat, his dark gaze snaring mine as he pants, “Gonna kill me, baby. Gonna kill me.”
It’s the encouragement I need before I’m notching him where I’m clenching painfully and slowly taking the tip inside. I dig my nails into his shoulder and force myself to stay still. My walls tighten around that initial few inches, making it harder not to sink deeper.
“Need—”
He cuts me off with his lips, kissing me with a savage hunger that betrays how badly he feels the same way that I do. I grab his nape, tugging him away from the chair and closer to me, my thighs burning from keeping myself held in my current position. Still, I don’t pull away.
Our tongues slide together, the kiss turning desperate. He sucks on mine, and I pop my eyes open in warning when my knees start to shake.
“Need to get off before I take more,” I murmur into his mouth, chasing the taste of him.
His hold on me tightens instantly, refusing to let me, regardless of my lack of trying. “Another inch. Just one. Slowly.”
My thighs ache worse as I lower myself what I hope is an inch. But it’s not enough. The stretch feels too good for us to stop like this. I have to bite my cheek to keep from crying out in frustration.
“Tell me you can take it.”
His voice is rougher than I’ve ever heard it as his breath fans my face. I don’t hesitate to answer.
“I can take it.”
There’s no more burn in my thighs when he thrusts up, driving the rest of his length inside of me. I collapse onto his lap, our bodies flush now as I stare at the ceiling, unsure of when my head fell back. The fullness is sharp, almost too much.
“Jesus Christ,” he hisses, guiding my hips forward and adjusting the angle. “Set the pace before I do.”
“How do I do this?”
His throat works through a swallow as he moves me again, bringing our middles together and then away in slow, fluid motions.
I take over after a few seconds, keeping the same pace.
His piercings press against my walls, intensifying the pleasure that’s filling me before I push closer, and the one through the tip—
“Shade!” I cry, my jaw slack.
He thrusts up again, deeper this time. The angle steals the breath from my lungs, and I gasp when he drags along that same spot inside of me. I cling onto his shoulders for some semblance of balance before I topple over.
“Take it, Millie. Nice and deep just like that. Feel it in your belly. Right here,” he spits, pressing a palm to my lower stomach. “You wanted it, and it’s yours now.”
My ears fill with his filthy words, shooting straight to where I’m clenching around him like I’m trying to keep him buried inside of me for the next fifty years. I rock against his thrusts, meeting them eagerly while an endless chant of moans and pleas spills from my lips.
“It wasn’t enough you got to mark my body. You needed your claws deeper. Greedy princess,” he breathes out, smashing our chests together. His lips part over my cheek and then my mouth, resting there. “Where do I get to mark you?”
He knows the answer already. We both do.
I tighten around him, my entire body starting to shake from exertion. My release is imminent, but there’s something primal inside of me that demands we get there together. I don’t have the strength to fight that pull.
“Inside.”
“Inside where?” he rasps, moving faster beneath me.
I curl my fingers in his hair, pulling harder than I should as I struggle to hold on. “Of me.”
“Inside your wet, perfect pussy,” he corrects me, licking my lips.
Falling against him, I let go. I’m still holding on to his hair, and his head tilts as I come, getting pulled with me. My teeth sink into his shoulder, leaving indents. I squeeze his shaft, pulsing with every shake of my body.
His following groans are loud enough to pierce through the white noise in my ears, letting me hear the way he falls apart beneath me. Heat floods my core, flames warring against flames as he jerks and holds me tighter than I’ve ever been held before.
“Good girl, princess. Good girl letting me fill you up like this,” he praises, continuing to move inside of me with shallow, soft thrusts. “Stay right where you are.”
I nod, unwilling to move anyway. Moments pass before he stills, and I’ve caught my breath enough to speak, guilt baring its teeth at me.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asks, sounding offended, his muscles growing rigid.
“That wasn’t just the tip.”
His laugh explodes from his chest. It’s a warm sound, yet unexpected. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for.”
“It crossed a line,” I whisper.
“We’ve crossed every goddamn line there is. I’m not focusing on them right now. I’ll do that later. After you finish the tattoo. And spray it with alcohol before I get an infection and die.”
I jerk back, feeling his still-hard length rubbing inside of me again. “Will that happen?”
“Just clean it before getting back to work,” he says, gentling his voice as he runs fingers through my hair.
“Like this?”
Looking down at where we’re still connected, I try not to break out in a bright red blush. The longer we stay like this, the more intimate it feels, and I’m not sure if that’s something he’s okay with.
The way his pupils dilate when I ask the question, though . . .
“Yeah, like this. Just a few more minutes.”
I press my lips together—not because I want to argue, but because I don’t want him to know just how okay I am with staying connected.
Keeping my mouth shut, I lean over to the cart and then put another pair of gloves on before following his directions. Doing that feels like the only way I’ll manage to get through the rest of this tattoo without making a mistake that could cost me everything.