9. Chapter 9
Myth
Rox was out cold.
I’d carried her from the door when she’d passed out and laid her on the bed, carefully removing the shirt she’d “borrowed”. She looked so damn good in my clothes, I may need to buy extras so she could walk around in them for me.
“Kitten?” I said, moving her head from side to side.
She was out cold, and her body was on display for me.
Every delicate inch of it. She was flushed pink from the vigorous fucking, and I found that I loved the shade on her.
I pinched her nipple and heard her delicious mewl, but she didn’t wake.
I could fuck her awake, but I knew she needed some kind of break from it.
My cock, although he was still hard and stiff for her, did need to recuperate at some point.
I left her on the bed, moving into the ensuite bathroom and wetting a towel before I came out and started to clean her up. Soft, slow movements of the towel over her sensitive flesh had her sighing in her sleep.
God, she was so fucking perfect. I liked the way she looked in my bed. How it was always meant to be.
The ink on her body was beautiful, large designs over her arms, down to her forearms, her thighs were covered to her knees as well, large designs of mythical creatures.
A huge phoenix down one side and on the other, a large mermaid complete with tentacles from an octopus wrapping around the waist of the fish.
She still had her tattoo over her hips, leading down toward her pussy.
It had been the first tattoo I’d ever tried, and since she’d been a painslut, she’d come all over my lap as I tattooed her.
It had been the single hottest thing I’d ever seen.
Actually, everything she did in bed was hot. But there was something about her crying out in pleasure as I inked her that had my hard even just remembering now.
Her chest and stomach were bare, and always had been, but she’d added ink to her arms since the last time I saw her, and I had seen her back was covered in little tattoos, including her tramp stamp that I knew she covered up when she could.
I moved my hands over her gorgeous bare skin, wishing I knew why she kept it so inkless.
It was so different in comparison to the rest of her body.
I loved every bit of her, but I wanted to see a tattoo right here, under her breasts.
One that said Royal Bastards. And right here, over the top of her belly button, I wanted to see my name.
Fuck. I was hard just thinking about having her name on me. I was already tattooed on her. The sweet little tramp stamp had my name on her, covered in roses and barbed wire. It had been her first.
The second she showed me, I knew we’d be together forever. Because I’d gone out and gotten my first tattoo of her too. As of right now, I had three tattoos of her name on me, and although my skin was getting full, I’d always find a way to add more.
If she wanted me to.
The idea was forming in my head, and I could almost see it, right there on her skin. She’d be mad.
Fuck me, would she be mad, but she’d be mine.
No…I didn’t want to win her this way. I’d win her because she still loved me, more than that pompous prick back in London. The one who had her fingering herself when he wasn’t home because he obviously wasn’t getting the job done.
Just the thought of him putting his hands on her had my blood boiling. It was why I hadn’t put a camera in their bedroom. I didn’t want to jump on a plane and go beat his brains in before throwing my woman over my shoulder and dragging her back home like a caveman.
The sound of a tiny beep caught my attention and I moved over to the location of her skirt. There, on the side was a tiny pocket. I unzipped it and pulled out her phone.
She had multiple missed calls and messages from Beck.
Fucking asshole.
I wasn’t going to go through it, but my thumb swept across the screen when I was about to set it down. A passcode screen jumped up and I saw a moment where I could fuck her chances of going back home up.
Tossing up with her hating me more than she did and actually finding a way to keep her here at her choice, I entered her birthdate.
Nope.
Hm…okay. I remembered the date she met the pompous prick and entered that in. Nope.
Well at least she didn’t love him enough for that. Thinking of a date it could possibly be, I wondered if she would be daring enough to do it.
Fuck it.
I entered our wedding date. 3110.
The screen unlocked. My heart was in my throat.
It was our wedding date?
Flicking to the last message he sent, I read:
BECK
This isn’t okay, Roxana. You had rules if I allowed you to go over there. Why aren’t you picking up? Do I need to come there myself? Call me in the next half an hour or I’ll be forced to come get you.
This motherfucker.
Who the fuck talks to my ol’ lady like that?
A dead man, that’s who.
Angry, and more than a little pissed off, I moved in front of Rox, pushing my fingers into her pussy slightly, but not enough to wake her, and took a selfie with her passed out and naked behind me, making sure my fingers were visible.
I pulled my fingers free and licked them clean, loving the taste of her in my mouth once more, and I sent it off with a message.
She’s a little busy right now. But feel free to come here and face me, moron. Sincerely, her husband.
I switched her phone off so she didn’t get woken up by this nitwit and headed out the door of the room, and into Ink’s. He was our resident tattoo artist, and our secretary for services. I knew he always kept a portable tattoo gun in here for practising.
There, in his second drawer, I found it, with his ink kits.
I took them, knowing he wouldn’t mind helping his prez out, and headed back to my room.
The club girl from yesterday–fuck, what was her name?
Disney? Jasmine— saw me, my cock out, and naked in the hall.
Her eyebrows rose as she took me in, her eyes glazing at me like I was some kind of forbidden treat.
All the girls did. What was it about the president patch that had girls wanting to jump on and ride me?
“No,” I said, firmly. She skittered away like a scared little rat and I entered my room.
Rox was still asleep, and that had me hard, just looking at the soft rise and fall of her chest. She’d been so utterly perfect for me, coming on demand, and putting up with the endless pounding.
Even still, she had my cock rising to the occasion.
I stroked him a few times, the ache never going away when it came to her.
I set up the ink kit beside her, on the wooden block so it didn’t spill, and prepped her tummy with the wipes in the kit.
I was really going to do it.
Yep, that asshole set me off. I had to mark my territory. And she was always mine. I’d grovel if I had to in order to get her back. I’d do anything for her.
Pushing the button on the end of the gun, the soft buzzing of the machine worried me that she’d wake, but she didn’t. My cock rested on her pussy, while I positioned myself between her thighs. The first line would be the test.
Slowly, I drew a line just over her belly button to the side.
She bristled slightly, her hips moving, my cock gliding over her pussy lips.
Oh yeah, my baby still loved pain. I made my first letter.
As I moved across her stomach, I made sure each letter was the same length and width.
I hadn’t tattooed in a while, but it was like riding a bike.
Underneath her belly button, I started on the next word. Smirking with every letter.
She was still writhing underneath me, her moans turning guttural. Her pussy was wet under my cock. She loved it.
Slowly, I slipped my cock into her, inch by delicious inch. She moaned, her back arching slightly but not enough to wake her.
Fuck me.
I could fuck her senseless right now, plant as much seed in her as I could and grow my baby in this delicious body. That had my balls pulling tight already at the thought of her round with my child.
But I didn’t want her to hate me forever. I wanted it to be her choice, even if I had wanted to be selfish earlier. I still did, but I needed her to love me again.
Eventually.
I fucked into her softly, loving the squeeze of her pussy when I moved the tattoo gun back to her skin. There, in between her breasts, I started. This would be the telltale sign if she were to wake up. This was over bone.
I moved the gun over her skin, in script. She looked so fucking good, her skin turning red, slight droplets of blood littering her pale skin, next to the dark lines of my artwork.
Turning the gun off, I pumped a few more times into her, thrusting deep when I came, and stepping back to admire my handiwork. Fuck me.
Perfection. Her sweaty body passed out, my ink on her skin, and my cum drizzling from her pussy. I wish I could remember this moment forever.
Taking a mental photograph, I set about cleaning her tattoo and applying the clear gauze to protect it, before I packed up the kit and pulled on my pants, before I headed back to Ink’s room to drop the kit back off.
Yeah, my little she-devil was going to be pissed.
But that always made for the best sex between us. Smirking as I headed back to our room, I couldn’t wait.