31. CHAPTER 26
AXL
Her face is pressed into my chest, and my shirt is wet from her tears. Her hands fist the fabric so tight I think she’s going to rip it. She hasn’t let go since I pulled her out of whatever the fuck that was.
She told me what she remembered of her nightmare. My blood is boiling that there isn’t a face and name I can track down. I want to beat the shit out of someone.
If that dipshit Daniel caused this for my girl, I will dig his pathetic body up and rip every limb from his corpse. I hope there’s a hell so that I can see that fucker again and show him who the real fucking devil is.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I reach over and check the screen. There’s a text message.
Dad: Son, I’m not fucking kidding. Answer me. This is happening.
He’s been on my ass about wanting to talk about whatever arrangements he’s making for my marriage, and I keep ignoring him because I don’t give a shit.
I delete it, like all the others, and toss my phone back on the nightstand.
Saylor pulls back to look up at me. Her eyes are red, and her cheeks are wet. She looks wrecked, and fucking gorgeous. “Remind me who owns me, Axl. Make it go away.”
I grab her jaw and tilt her face up so she can’t look anywhere but at me. Her lips are parted, and she stares at my face. There isn’t a world where she isn’t fucking mine. She has been since the first time I saw her.
“Just remember that you wanted this.” I toss the blanket off of her and tap her thigh. “Sit up.”
She does what she’s told, because I’ve trained my girl well. I pull the shirt from her body and throw it on the floor. Her shoulders are shaking, and her hair is a mess. She’s looking at me like I’m the only man in the world who can give her what she needs.
That’s the fucking truth. She might not like what I’m about to do, but I’m going to give her exactly what she asked for. It was going to happen anyway.
I run my hand along her ribs and then cup her breast, brushing my thumb over her nipple. She sighs and arches into me. I pinch her nipple, making her cry out. “I’ll make sure you never forget what king you serve, little heathen.”
I lick away the tears on her cheek. I love when she cries, but only when I’m the one who pushes her. I know what my girl can take and what she needs to make it better. These tears make me want to rip the walls down. “Lie down,” I whisper, forcing my voice to remain even, kissing her temple.
She does as she’s told, and I climb from the bed. I go to the closet and grab what I borrowed from Crew. I’ve always planned to do this to her, and now is the time.
Her eyes drop to the case in my hand. “What are you doing?”
“What you asked me to do.” I set the case on the nightstand and open it. I pull out the tattoo gun and plug it in. I grab the ink and gloves and lay out everything that I’m going to need.
“Axl.” She pushes up on her elbows, glaring at me. Then she climbs up on her knees. “You can’t be fucking serious.”
There’s that attitude of hers. My girl must have forgotten who the fuck I am. I told her to lie down, and I meant that shit. If she wants to remember who owns her, it’s about to be really fucking clear. I leave everything where it is and pull rope from the drawer of the nightstand.
“Fucking lie down on your back, Saylor.”
“Why? Are you pissed because I had a dream about someone who wasn’t you, and now you need to make me pay for something that isn’t my fucking fault?”
I grab her throat and pin her back against the mattress, straddling her, and positioning my face right in front of hers as I restrict her air.
“Because I told you to do something, and you know what happens when you make me tell you twice. You wanted to be reminded of who owns you, little heathen. This is it.”
She holds my stare as her eyes go wide. Her chest rises quickly, and then she lets go of my wrist. Her hands fall to her sides.
“Now are you ready to be my good girl?”
“Yes,” she manages while struggling to get air.
I kiss her forehead. “Then don’t fucking move.”
I let go of her throat and grab her left wrist, tying it to the headboard. Then her right. I pull the knots tight enough that if she struggles against them, they’re going to hurt.
Her chest is rising and falling, and her arms are stretched above her head. She looks like an offering just for me. Once I’m done with what I have planned, I’ll worship at my personal altar between her fucking thighs.
I climb from the bed and stand beside it to watch her.
Tears in the corners of her eyes, nipples hard, thighs clenched together—she’s fucking perfect.
She’s pissed at me, horny as fuck since I didn’t let her get off earlier, and scared of the pain from what I’m about to do.
All three of those things make my dick throb.
I sit on the edge of the bed next to her and press my hand flat against her chest, right over her heart. She’s breathing so hard, it makes me want to pinch her nose while I fuck her wet cunt.
Soon, little heathen.
“Right here.” I trace my fingers over her skin. “That’s where my name is going, little heathen. So every time you breathe, every beat of your fucking heart, you know that you belong to me. And everyone else will know too.”
“You’re an asshole.”
I laugh because there’s no conviction in her words.
If she wants to pretend to fight me over branding her, I’ll let her.
It’s not going to change anything. I trace my fingers down her body and slide them into the thong I made her wear earlier to catch my cum.
She’s soaked, just like I knew she would be.
“You don’t seem to mind being mine.” I drag my fingers across her clit, making her moan. But I have every intention of making her pay for that fucking attitude. “Beg me, Saylor. Beg me to brand you. To permanently mark your perfect skin.”
She pulls against the ropes, and her hips grind up into my hand. “Fuck you.”
I pull my fingers out of her, and she whimpers at the loss. “Wrong answer.” I suck the wetness from my fingers, because I can’t let that honey go to waste, and then I pick up the tattoo gun. “Try again.”
Her chest heaves, and her thighs press together where my hand just was. She stares at the ceiling for a second and then looks at me. Her jaw is tight, but her eyes are begging even if her mouth is struggling to say the words. That’s just her pride holding her back.
“Please.”
There’s my girl. “Please what, baby?”
“Please brand me, Axl.” Her voice cracks, and it goes straight to my cock. “Make me yours.”
“You’re already mine, little heathen.” I pull the gloves onto my hands and then use an alcohol pad to clean the skin where the tattoo will go.
I dip the needle and turn the gun on. The buzz fills the room, and she flinches at the sound.
I press my free hand flat against her stomach, holding her down.
“Don’t fucking move. I mean it, Saylor.”
The needle touches her skin, and she sucks air through her teeth. Her body tenses, and her wrists twist in the ropes. The first stroke of the A carves into her chest, and I watch the ink settle into her skin. I’ve never been harder in my life.
“Breathe for me, baby.”
“I’m trying.” Her voice is strained, and tears run down her temples into her hair. “It really fucking hurts.”
“Good.” I drag the next line. “I want you to remember this. Every time you look in the mirror. Every time you wear a low neckline showing too much of what’s mine. You’ll remember that you belong to me, Saylor.”
She cries through the X. Her body shakes under my hand, but she doesn’t move. She takes every line and every stroke, and the only sounds in the room are the buzz of the gun and her ragged breathing.
“That’s a good girl. You’re being so good for me.” She whimpers, and I set the gun down. I lean down her body and lick her clit before sucking it, deciding she’s earned a little reward.
“Yes. Please, Axl. God, yes.” She pants as I use my tongue to tease her pussy.
I press a kiss to her swollen clit. “That’s the begging I like to hear. One more letter, and then I’m going to bury my face in your cunt.”
She nods, pulling against the ropes. “Do it. Just fucking do it.”
I pick the gun back up and press the needle to her chest to finish. A cry rips from her throat, and she arches off the bed, but my hand on her stomach keeps her pinned.
“Don’t move.” I hold her down harder. “Last one, baby.”
She’s sobbing, and her wrists are raw from the ropes. I’ve never wanted to fuck someone this badly in my entire life. The tears, the obedience, the way she’s letting me carve my name into her skin.
I drag the last stroke and turn the gun off. The room goes quiet except for her breathing.
AXL
Three letters in black ink, right over her heart. Her skin is red and swollen, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen on her body.
I set the gun on the nightstand and peel the gloves off, tossing them aside. Then I crawl onto the bed and position myself between her spread thighs and bury my face in her pussy.
She moans so loud the others can probably hear her.
Her back comes off the bed, and her thighs clamp around my head.
I don’t go easy on her. I told her I’d eat this cunt, and I’m a man of my fucking word.
I lick her slow and then hard and then slow again, because she doesn’t get to come until I decide she’s earned it.
“Axl, please—” She’s pulling against the ropes so hard the headboard is slamming into the wall. “Please let me come. I need it. Please.”
I pull my mouth off her, and she whines at the loss. “You come when I say you come.”
I shove two fingers inside her and curl them forward. She’s so fucking wet, and her cunt grips my fingers so tight it makes me want to give her what she wants. But she’s going to come on my dick. I need to claim her as much as she needs to be claimed.
“Who owns this pussy, Saylor?”
“You do.” She’s panting, pulling at the ropes, trying to grind down on my hand. “You know you do.”