16. Lachlan
LACHLAN
She's perfect like this. And I can't believe this is happening.
I can still feel the aftershocks of my first release, the wild pleasure of coming inside of her again for the first time in ten years—the first time I've been inside a woman at all in that long.
I'm already clamoring for more, for the hot, wet clutch of her around my length, and I can't wait.
I need her again. If she tells me to stop, I will. I'll take any pain, any demands she has. I'll do anything for her, and this is how I prove it.
By letting her have complete and absolute control over me.
The ropes are long enough that I can flip her over, the ropes crossing over each other as I do, putting her face down in the sheets.
I grasp her hips and tug her ass up into the air, my cock throbbing already at the sight I've imagined so many times.
I had her once, half-dressed in the grass.
I never got to see her fully naked, never got to revel in her bare skin under mine, never got to fuck her in every position I can imagine.
We're starting here, with her gorgeous ass clutched in my hands as I press my cock against her wet hole again, feeling my muscles tense in anticipation of that first sensitive slide into her willing depths.
Her body is flushed and trembling, covered in a sheen of sweat that makes her skin glow in the dim light from the windows. I can see the marks I've left on her thighs, on her hips, the bruises already forming where my fingers dug in too hard.
I should feel guilty about that. I don't. I feel fucking triumphant.
I slide into her in one long stroke, moaning as I feel her heat take me in again. My cock pulses, and I swear I could fucking spill again already.
"Lachlan—" My name is a sob, and I can feel her tightening around me. "I can't—I can't take any more—"
"Yes, you can." I lean over her, my mouth at her ear. "You can take everything I give you. You were made for this. Made for me."
She whimpers, and I can feel her body responding even as she protests, feel the way she's pushing back against me, meeting my thrusts. She wants this as much as I do. Needs it as much as I do.
I slow my pace, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, deep and deliberate.
I'm trying to stave off coming again, but the feeling of drawing out until only my swollen tip is nestled in her heat, then pushing back inside, makes it even harder to hold onto my control.
She cries out, her hands fisting in the sheets.
"That's it," I murmur. "Feel me. Feel how perfectly you fit around me. Like you were made for my cock."
"Lachlan—" She's begging, and I don't know if she's begging me to stop or to keep going, but I don't care. I'm not stopping unless she says the word.
I reach around, my fingers finding her clit, and she screams, her whole body convulsing. The orgasm tears through her, and I can feel the way she's clenching around me, milking me.
I can't stop it. The orgasm rushes up from my tight balls, white-hot up my spine, and I jerk inside of her, spurting as I clutch her hips and moan her name.
It feels like I haven't fucking come in years, like I didn't just come minutes ago.
Like there's an endless well of need inside of me that I can keep filling her with, and it will never be sated.
I pull out, cock twitching at the sight of my cum dripping out of her and onto her thighs. She collapses onto the bed, boneless and shaking. I turn her over gently, and she looks up at me with dazed eyes, her lips swollen, her hair a mess.
So fucking beautiful.
I reach for the rope still tied to the headboard, and her eyes widen. "Lachlan—"
"Shh." I undo her left wrist and bring it to my chest. Right over my heart. "Feel that?"
She nods, her fingers splaying against my skin over the tattoo.
"I tattooed it on myself the night after I left. The machine and needles and ink were the first thing I bought, before I even got food. I needed you with me more than I needed to eat. It fucking hurt, with how busted up my hand was, but nothing hurt as much as you being gone."
Her eyes fill with tears, and she traces the letters with trembling fingers. "Lachlan—"
"I've dreamed a hundred times about marking you the same way," I murmur raspily. My cock twitches and starts to rise again, just from saying it aloud. "Putting my name on your body so that every time you look in the mirror, you see it and remember who you belong to. Who belongs to you."
She stares up at me, and I can see the conflict in her eyes, the fear and the desire warring with each other.
"Say the word," I murmur. "Say it, and I stop. But if you don't say it, I'm going to mark you, Adriana. I'm going to put my name on your skin, and you're going to wear it for the rest of your life."
The silence stretches between us, heavy and charged. And then she whispers, "Where?"
My heart stops.
"Where do you want it?" My voice shakes. This is real, this is happening. She's saying yes.
Every fucking fantasy I've had in the last ten years is coming true, one after another, and it feels too good to be real.
But right now, at least, it is.
She's quiet for a moment, and then she touches her hip, just above the bone. "Here," she says softly. "Where only you can see it."
I close my eyes, and I have to take a breath. The rush of possessive satisfaction that floods through me is almost overwhelming.
"Don't move," I tell her, and I get up, grabbing my phone from the nightstand.
I send a text to Rian. It's three in the morning, but I don't give a fuck. Need you to bring something to the penthouse. Now.
His response comes back almost immediately. What?
Lachlan: Tattoo gun. Clean needles. Black ink.
There's a pause, and then:
Rian: Are you fucking serious?
Lachlan: Dead serious. And I need it in the next twenty minutes.
Rian: Jesus Christ, Lachlan.
But he doesn't argue. He knows better.
I turn back to Adriana, and she's watching me with wide eyes. "You're really going to do this?" she whispers. I can hear a mixture of fear and anticipation in her voice.
"Only if you let me." I move back to the bed, sitting beside her. "You say the word, and we stop. Right now. No questions asked."
She looks at me for a long moment, and then she nods.
"Okay." She looks dazed. "I… you were right," she whispers.
"I forgot, but I feel it now. Now that you've been inside me again…
there's so much that's still wrong about all of this, Lachlan, but I am yours.
Nothing can ever change that. No matter what happens next. "
The words hit me, and I have to kiss her, have to taste her, feel her mouth against mine. She kisses me back, desperate and hungry, and when I pull away, we're both breathing hard.
"I love you," I murmur against her lips. "I've loved you since I was eighteen years old, and I'm going to love you until the day I die."
"Lachlan—" Her voice breaks, and I can see the tears welling in her eyes.
"You don't have to say it back," I tell her quickly.
"But I need you to know. I need you to understand that this—" I gesture between us, at the bed, at the rope still tied to the headboard.
"This isn't just sex. This is me claiming you.
This is me telling you that you're mine, and I'm yours, and nothing is ever going to change that.
You can fight me, and you can hurt me, but at the end of the day, all the power in this is yours, because I can never be anything but that. Yours, Adriana, and no one else's."
She's crying harder now, and I wipe the tears away with my thumbs, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. "I'm scared," she whispers. "I'm so scared, Lachlan."
"I know." I brush my lips against hers. "I know you are. But I'm going to keep you safe. I promise you that. No matter what it takes."
I hear a knock at the door a little while later, and I get up and pull on my pants without bothering to do more than shove my cock inside and zip them halfway, then go to the door. Rian is standing there with a black case in his hands, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"You're insane," he says flatly.
"Probably." I take the case from him. "Thanks."
He shakes his head, but he doesn't argue. "You need anything else?"
"No. Go back to bed."
He leaves, and I close the door, locking it behind me. When I turn back to the bedroom, Adriana is watching me.
"You're really going to do this," she whispers.
"Yes." I set the case on the bed and open it, pulling out the machine and the supplies. "But only if you still want me to."
She looks at the equipment, and I can see her swallow hard. But then she nods. "Yes," she whispers, her voice shaking.
I set everything up carefully, making sure the needle is clean, the ink is ready. I've done this a few times, tattooed myself when I couldn't afford to pay someone else to do it. I know what I'm doing.
"Lie back," I tell her, and she does. She's naked and vulnerable, and the trust in her eyes makes my chest tight.
I position myself between her legs, and I can see her tense. "Relax," I murmur. "This is going to hurt, but I'll be as gentle as I can."
She nods, and I lean down, kissing the spot where I'm going to put my name. Her skin is soft and warm, and I can feel her trembling beneath my lips. "Ready?" I ask, and she nods again.
I turn on the machine, and the buzzing fills the room. I see her flinch at the sound, but she doesn't say the word. Doesn't tell me to stop.
I press the needle to her skin, and she gasps, her free hand clutching the sheet and gripping tight. But she doesn't push me away.
"Breathe," I tell her. "Just breathe through it."
She does, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and I work as quickly as I can, tracing the letters of my name into her skin in script, bold and permanent. Tears are dripping down her cheeks, but at no point does she use the safeword.