Chapter 37 Zion
ZION
My jaw fell to the floor.
“She’s all yours.” Jayla pushed Kali inside and closed the door, retreating to the currently vacant hall.
“You look beautiful.” Gedeon came up from behind me in the small adjoining room. Large windows peppered the long wall, a small table set up in the center with a bunch of organized items on top, surrounded by two chairs, everything ready for her to get inked. “More than that. Striking.”
“This all is… I don’t know. Weird.” She pinched the fabric of the dress I wanted to rip into pieces.
Two thin straps held the black material barely covering her and revealing the valley of her breasts down to her navel, the rest of the dress flowing freely to the floor with two high slits up each of her thighs. The black fabric sliding along with her movements made her look so innocent.
Made me want to ruin her.
She lifted the skirt higher and beamed at us. “At least I’ve got my boots.”
The pair of which I was taking off the moment this celebration was done, because I needed to explore every inch of her. Including her toes.
Maneuvering her to walk in front of me so I could admire her swaying hips, and how the thin fabric clung to the curvature of her ass, I led her to the table where our acquaintance was preparing his instruments.
“This is Dorrian. He’ll do your tattoo.” Gedeon introduced them and pulled the chair out for her to sit. “Do you want to see the design before he begins?”
She smiled softly at me. “No. I agreed it would be a surprise.”
That softness spread a spiderweb of warmth throughout my body.
“Have you ever had a tattoo done before?” Dorrian asked.
“This is my first. Does it make a difference?”
“Not really. I will explain everything.” He began outlining the process, answering Kali’s questions, and shaving the hair off her forearm.
As she shifted in her seat, her dress rode up, the slits reaching high on her upper thighs, exposing her long legs. So fair, so outright perfect to paint in red.
“Calm down,” Gedeon warned from behind me, and I turned around to find him leaning against the wall, dressed in black jeans and a matching shirt, as usual. “A couple of hours are all that is left.”
I adjusted my weight. Starvation had set a permanent residence in me.
I’d had plenty of opportunities to satisfy my hunger, but merely thinking about the list of my playthings made something yell and claw at the inside of my chest in protest. So, day by day, my thirst had intensified. Spiraled toward the loss of control.
I was about to leap out of my skin.
Dorrian started the needle, and Kali giggled. “It tickles. Like a tingle, it hurts but—” She inhaled sharply and fixated on the scratched up by a thousand-feet floor.
“You were saying?” Gedeon arched an eyebrow, his knee bent and his foot resting on the wall, his relaxed stance a contrast to my jumpiness.
“Nothing,” she scoffed, returning to her inspection of the swirls in the floorboards.
“How long do you think it’ll take before she breaks?” I asked as I joined him in leaning against the wall and watching her squirm.
He smirked. “She won’t.”
A couple of hours passed, and the more she writhed, the more our amusement swelled. Not just my amusement, to be truthful. Swelled and decreased. And swelled again. To the point I feared I’d snap on Gedeon if matters didn’t change in the foreseeable future, or in other words, the next five minutes.
Kali’s hand had balled up in her lap to hide how Dorrian tattooing her was affecting her, but her feet rising on the tiptoes of her boots and her quivering thighs betrayed her. Like my stretched-out jeans.
Gedeon gave me a once-over. “You good?”
“Do I look good?” I grumbled, transferring my weight to my left leg and then my right, uncomfortable either way.
His lip corner quirked up as his eyes roved over me. Wordlessly, he pushed off the wall and strode to Kali, kneeling before her and placing his hands on her ankles.
“Be careful,” Gedeon cautioned Dorrian before teasingly brushing up to her upper calves and roughly spreading her legs wide.
She clutched his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Do you like the needle?” He leisurely played with the hem of her black dress at her hips, where it split into three parts. The middle strip hid her from my perusal, much to my dissatisfaction. “How it pricks you?”
She swallowed. “No.”
“I do not tolerate liars. You know that.” Sitting on his heels, he kissed up her inner thigh, his grasp on them locking her in place at the edge of the chair. “Tell me the truth.” He peered up at her from between her legs.
“I—” Her lips parted as she spotted me leaning against the wall and rubbing myself over my pants. The sight of Gedeon on his knees before her… I was ripping the zippers out of all my jeans if this was going to be a daily occurrence.
“See what you do to him? His legs are barely holding him up because of you. He is going to come because of you.” Gedeon’s mouth curved in wickedness. “But only when I say so.”
My cock throbbed at the imminent torture he’d announced.
He pinched her chin. “Answer me. Or I will not grant him my permission to come today.”
I caught myself on the wall. “Fuck, just— Tell him.” Not a drop of care remained in me as I pleaded like a beggar to be let into the supposedly existing heaven somewhere up in the skies. Or hell, based on how hard I was.
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Yes, what?” he pushed.
“I like the needle,” she whispered, and side-eyed Dorrian. “But what about—”
“Ignore him. Zion has my permission to do whatever he wants if he tries anything,” Gedeon said, then reached between her legs. “You’re completely soaked.”
“Wh— Oh—” Her head dropped back, exposing her long neck and the outline of an artery running along its length.
He swiftly dragged her black panties down her legs and threw them to me. Seizing them in the air, I stuffed them in the back pocket of my jeans.
“Those are mi—”
“They’re mine now,” I cut her off. Gods, yes, they were mine. Her wetness on them had tightened my abdomen. I bet she tasted divine.
Gedeon’s hand dipped under the middle strip of her dress, and based on how she gasped and her legs tensed as she rose out of the seat, he pushed his fingers inside her. He nipped at her inner thigh, slowly making his way higher.
“Gods,” she cried out.
“We do not call on them here,” he scolded. “If you need to beg, you will use our names.”
From how her back arched and she writhed, he was repeating what he’d done in our underground—putting pressure on that spot inside her and teasing her clit. It drove her insane then and was bringing her to madness now too.
“Gods, it fee— Ged— I…” she whimpered.
Dorrian stopped tattooing. “This isn’t going to work. She has to stay still if you want this to turn out good.”
Gedeon stood up, and the glistening fingers he held in the air summoned me. I lunged, grabbing his wrist and sucking, twirling my tongue between the two digits. The taste of her on him was so addictive I could live off it.
I licked my lips to collect every last drop. “Delicious,” I mumbled hoarsely, my vocal cords half-refusing to work, as frozen as the unreadable expression on his face.
Dorrian cleared his throat. “Ahm, can I continue?”
Gedeon extended a hand to her. “Come.”
“But he hasn’t finished the tattoo,” she objected, fixing her dress.
If it was my choice, she would have been naked from the second the door had closed.
It also would have meant Dorrian would be lying on the floor right now, glassy-eyed, instead of inking her.
Or simply kicked out into the hall, if Gedeon had anything to say about it.
“Stand. Up,” he ordered.
She peeked at me before rising and hugging herself with one arm, keeping the right outstretched, avoiding an accidental look at her mostly done tattoo.
Gedeon turned her armrest-free chair around, so the left side faced the small table, and pointed to the seat. “Sit.”
Did I situate myself there immediately? Yes. Yes, I did.
“You are going to ride Zion while Dorrian finishes the tattoo,” he told her.
“I am not,” she scoffed, her face flushing a brighter shade of pink.
“You will not remain still if you do not have one of us getting you off. I want to claim you out in the hall, in front of everyone. So be a good girl, take Zion’s cock out and sit on it, and Dorrian can complete your tattoo.”
I leaned back and spread my arms. “I’m all yours.” My cock, my blood, my sanity.
Hesitantly, she unbuckled my leather belt and tugged my zipper down.
My hips bucked at the feel of her only an increment of an inch from me.
But then she curled her fingers around my length, stroking me up and down, twisting and squeezing at the tip, and I clutched the edges of the seat as a jumble of grunts left my mouth.
“Now,” Gedeon growled.
She straddled my legs, and I gathered the fabric covering her up, revealing her arousal glinting along her pussy, so perfectly ready. She positioned me at her entrance, and I gritted my teeth at her juices coating my tip.
Her nails dug into my shoulder and her gaze met mine right as a feeble whimper fled her, it all speaking volumes. She wasn’t going to resist anymore. Or play pretend. She was going to take what she wanted, whether she said it aloud or not.
The pure desire reflected in her eyes unraveled me. I thrust upward, seeking to connect us.
Her gasp was so intoxicating it froze me, and I slowly relaxed in my seat. I could survive one more second in wait for her. Because with the ink adorning her skin, she wasn’t escaping anywhere.
Clutching both of my shoulders, she paused with the first inch inside her. “How does it feel, pretty boy?”
“Not enough.” I yanked her down, and my hips collided with her upper thighs as I plunged inside her deeply. I lost my breath.
She yelped, clenching repeatedly as she adjusted to the sudden stretch.
I pressed my forehead to hers. “You’re so godsdamn tight.”