Chapter 79
Seth
For months she had been asking for a full back tattoo.
Every time we passed a shop window she slowed down to study the work behind the glass. Every time she noticed my machines sitting unused in the drawer she brought it up again.
She wanted one from me.
I told her the truth from the beginning. A full back piece hurts like a bitch. The needle runs across bone, muscle, and nerve endings for hours without stopping. The vibration spreads through your body until your skin feels swollen and irritated everywhere the machine passes.
She listened to all of that and shrugged.
“I’ve survived worse.”
That ended the discussion.
I lay everything out across the worktable with the same routine my hands had followed for years. The sterile needles stay sealed until the last moment. Ink caps sit in a straight row while I fill them with black and deep red. Alcohol wipes, gloves, wrap, and paper towels stay arranged within reach.
My hands move through the preparation like muscle memory. Tattooing had always done something to my head that nothing else managed. Once the machine started buzzing, the world narrowed down to a few controlled details.
Skin. Ink. Pressure. Precision.
Everything else faded.
Tonight I get to tattoo my girl again.
She steps into the room wearing a red slip dress. Thin straps rest over her shoulders while the soft fabric drapes across every curve of her body. The material brushes lightly against her thighs when she moves.
The overhead light traces the smooth line of her shoulders and back.
My eyes move across her once before I force my attention back to the equipment.
She walks past me and switches on the speaker. The system hums softly as the playlist loads.
Then she drags a chair into the center of the room. The legs scrape slowly across the wood floor.
She turns the chair backward and straddles it, resting her forearms along the backrest while leaning forward slightly.
Her back stays completely exposed.
I pause while looking at her.
“You sure you don’t want to pick the design?”
She shakes her head.
“I want you to.”
That answer settles heavier in my chest than it should.
“Something that represents everything I survived,” she adds quietly. “Something that feels like me.”
My eyes move across the scars scattered along her back. Every one of them marks something we have walked through together.
I nod once.
“Okay.”
I grab a pencil and begin sketching. The lines form quickly while she waits. I adjust the proportions twice before widening one section slightly.
When I turn the sketch toward her she leans forward to see it.
Her entire expression changes.
“I love it.”
“This will take hours,” I tell her. “Six at least.”
She laughs softly.
“I think you’re forgetting how little pain bothers me when you tattoo me.”
My mouth lifts slightly.
“You enjoy it too much.”
She looks back over her shoulder.
“I only enjoy it when it’s you.”
I pull on gloves and begin preparing her skin. The antiseptic wipes across her back in slow passes. She inhales sharply when the cold liquid touches her skin, and the muscles along her shoulders tighten before relaxing again.
I measure the center of her spine, spread the stencil gel, and press the design into place, smoothing it down carefully as my fingers brush her skin.
My pulse picks up every time I touch her.
I switch on the tattoo machine. The buzzing vibration fills the room.
The first hour passes without problems. The needle moves steadily along the stencil lines while my hand follows the shape I drew earlier. Her body stays still while the outline slowly begins forming beneath her skin.
Then she starts moving.
At first the movement barely registers. Her shoulders roll once before settling again. Her hips shift slightly against the chair.
I lift the machine.
“You okay?”
“Mmhmm.”
She adjusts her position again.
The opening bass of “Angel” spreads slowly through the room.
She leans forward a little more.
That small movement causes the slip to shift along her hips.
The fabric parts just enough for me to see the curve of her ass.
My eyes follow the line of her spine downward before I force my attention back to the tattoo.
“You’re fidgeting.”
She smiles faintly.
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
I reset my grip on the machine and continue outlining the next section.
The motor hums steadily in my hand while the needle moves through her skin. The rhythm usually locks my focus in place.
Then she moves again.
This time her hips tilt forward slightly. The slip tightens across her ass and lifts along the back of her thighs. That movement exposes the seat beneath her.
And the wetness between her legs.
My brain locks onto that image immediately.
The machine hovers above her skin while the needle continues vibrating in the air.
I lift it away and breathe slowly through my nose.
“Brooke, if you want a break you can say that.”
She turns her head and looks over her shoulder.
Her expression looks wide and innocent.
“I don’t want you to stop.”
Her lips curve slightly.
“Am I making it hard for you to focus?”
Her hips tilt forward again. The slip slides higher along her ass. The view between her legs becomes clearer.
That ends my patience.
I set the machine down on the tray. The metal rattles softly against the surface.
She stands slowly. Her eyes stay locked on mine.
Her fingers catch the hem of the slip and lift it upward. The fabric moves slowly along her body.
Her pussy appears first beneath the rising cloth. Then the smooth line of her stomach comes into view. The dress continues upward until the curve of her waist appears.
Her breasts lift free of the dress while she raises it higher. The soft weight shifts while the fabric slides over them. Her nipples tighten slightly when the cooler air touches her skin.
The slip clears her head and falls to the floor beside her feet. She stands completely naked in front of me.
I'm already rock hard inside my sweats.
Her eyes drop immediately to the outline pressing against the fabric. Her lip catches between her teeth while she studies it.
But she doesn’t reach for me. She touches herself instead.
She steps forward until she stands between my knees. The warmth of her body fills the narrow space between my legs while I look up at her.
Her fingers slide slowly down the center of her stomach. They move past her navel and continue lower until her hand slips between her thighs.
I lean forward without thinking. I watch her spread herself open with two fingers while her slick glistens under the light.
Her other hand rests against my shoulder for balance. Her breathing deepens while her fingers begin moving slowly over her clit.
I lean forward and press my lips against her stomach. Her skin feels warm beneath my mouth.
She inhales softly when my lips move upward along the flat line of her abdomen. My mouth brushes across her skin while I follow the path her fingers took seconds earlier.
Her hips shift slightly while she continues touching herself.
My hands slide along the outside of her thighs while I stay there between them, breathing her in.
“Fuck,” I mutter quietly.
Her fingers keep moving between her legs.
Then she lifts her hand.
Her fingers glisten. She holds them in front of my mouth.
My lips part and she pushes two fingers past them. Her taste fills my mouth immediately. My tongue moves slowly along the length of her fingers while I suck them deeper.
Her breath catches above me.
I keep my eyes on hers while my tongue drags along her skin, cleaning every trace of her wetness from them.
When I finally pull back she slides her fingers out of my mouth. She looks down at me like she knows exactly what she is doing.
Watching her touch herself like that erases every rational thought from my head.
“Brooke, if you keep doing that I'm gonna come in my pants.”
Her lips curve slowly.
“Then take them off.”
The control she has in that moment irritates me almost as much as it turns me on.
I shove my sweats down far enough to free my dick. The cool air brushes across the sensitive skin and pulls a breath from my chest.
She reaches down immediately.
Her slick fingers wrap around the head of my cock and stroke once, spreading her wetness across the tip.
My breath catches.
Then she turns around and straddles my lap with her back against my chest. Her thighs slide across mine while her ass brushes against my length.
I grip the arms of the chair to stop myself from thrusting upward. Even that light contact makes my hips twitch.
Her body settles against me while the warmth of her skin presses against my stomach. She reaches between her legs again and wraps her fingers around my dick before guiding the tip toward her entrance.
The head slides slowly through her soaked cunt.
My breath leaves my lungs slowly while she lowers herself down my shaft.
Her body descends gradually while her pussy stretches around me. Heat surrounds my shaft while she continues settling lower.
By the time she sits fully on my lap my dick is buried deep inside her.
A low moan escapes her throat while her hips roll slowly.
“Fuck,” I groan near her ear. “You love distracting me.”
Her fingers slide down her body again while she begins rubbing her clit.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “You look so hot when you’re focused.”
My hands close around her hips.
“I want you to keep going,” she murmurs. “While you finish the tattoo.”
I look toward the machine resting on the tray.
“You realize if I ruin a line you’re stuck with it forever.”
She laughs softly.
“I trust you.”
I exhale slowly and reach for the machine again.
The tool feels heavier in my hand now because she's sitting on my lap with my cock buried inside her.
I press my palm against the small of her back to steady her.
“Stay still.”
“I am still.”
Her hips shift slightly. The movement drags her walls along my shaft.
My jaw tightens.