7
The bed was large, dark sheets, the kind of solid frame that didn’t creak.
Chase laid her down in the center of it and followed, bracing himself over her on his forearms.
Daylight filtered through the half-closed blinds, striping her skin and every piece of his ink in alternating bands of light and shadow.
He started at the oldest work again—mouth on the dark flowers of her upper arm, tongue tracing the petals, then lower to the vine on her ribs.
He sucked gently on the skin just outside the breast piece, then dragged his tongue over her nipple until it tightened against his mouth. Jody’s hands slid into his damp hair.
He kept going, mapping every line with open-mouthed kisses and slow licks until he reached the newest marks high on her inner thighs.
He spread her legs wide, settled between them, and licked along the outer edges of the fresh ink—careful, reverent, and still filthy.
When he finally put his mouth on her cunt she was already wet again.
He ate her slowly, thoroughly, two fingers sliding inside to feel how soft and open she still was from the night before.
The wet sounds filled the quiet bedroom.
Jody came with a trembling moan, thighs shaking around his head, her pussy clenching around his fingers in rhythmic pulses.
Only then did Chase rise up, shove his own jeans the rest of the way off, and settle between her thighs. He dragged the thick head of his cock through her soaked folds, notched himself at her entrance, and pushed in face-to-face with one long, deep thrust that buried him to the hilt.
The stretch punched a broken sound out of her.
He filled her completely—hot, hard, the head pressing against her cervix.
He held still for a moment, forehead against hers, letting her feel every ridge and vein, then started to move in slow, rolling strokes.
The wet sound of her cunt taking him was soft and constant.
Daylight caught the fresh ink on her inner thighs every time her legs flexed around his hips.
“I’ve been thinking about the next ones already,” he said, voice low and rough against her mouth.
His hips kept the same deep, deliberate rhythm.
“Small pieces. Precise. One right here—” he reached down and traced a fingertip along the soft crease where her thigh met her body, just outside the newest work—“so I can watch it flex every time I sink into you. Another higher on your mound, close enough that I can lick it while I suck your clit.
Maybe one on the back of your neck so I can see it when I take you from behind.”
He fucked her deeper, grinding against her clit on every downstroke.
One hand slid under her lower back to tilt her hips; the other braced beside her head so he could keep watching her face.
The dual sensation built steadily. Jody’s orgasm rolled through her in heavy waves, her pussy clamping down around him hard enough to make him groan.
Chase followed her over the edge a few thrusts later, burying himself to the root and flooding her in thick, hot pulses.
He kept thrusting through it, short and deep, working every drop into her until she felt overfull again and the excess began to leak out around his shaft onto the dark sheets.
He stayed inside her afterward, softening only slightly, and kept giving her lazy, shallow thrusts while they both caught their breath. His hand stroked up and down her side, tracing every raised line of ink he could reach.
“This isn’t a shop thing anymore,” he said quietly, eyes locked on hers. “You’re going to keep coming back—for new marks, for touch-ups, for me to fill you under my own work. I’m done pretending otherwise. You’re mine to mark. Mine to fuck. Clear?”
Jody’s voice was rough, wrecked. “Clear.”
Chase kissed her slow and deep, still buried inside her, and the daylight kept striping every piece of his ink on her skin like a permanent claim.
Later that afternoon the light in the bedroom had shifted, softer and lower. Chase had been tracing the outer edges of the newest ink with one fingertip while Jody dozed against his chest. He paused, sat up, and looked down at the delicate lines right along the edge of her pussy.
“These need better light,” he said. “Come on.”
He scooped her up again—easy, like she belonged in his arms—and carried her the short distance back to the bathroom.
The white tile was cool under her bare thighs when he set her on the wide counter beside the sink.
The mirror ran the full length of the wall behind her.
Daylight and the bright vanity bulbs lit every mark on her body in sharp, unforgiving detail.
Chase stepped between her knees and spread them wider.
He peeled the thin bandages back carefully, exposing the raised, still-pink lines that framed the softest part of her.
The skin looked tight and shiny. He smoothed a fresh layer of ointment over both sides with slow, proprietary fingers, then let his thumbs drift inward to part her outer lips.
She was already slick again.
“Look at that,” he murmured, eyes locked on the reflection in the mirror behind her.
“Fresh ink and this cunt is already wet for me.”
He dragged one fingertip through her folds, collecting the clear arousal, then pushed two fingers inside her in a single slow stroke.
Jody’s breath hitched. The stretch was easy now, her walls still soft from everything he had given her earlier.
He fucked her with his fingers in deep, deliberate curls, watching both the real view and the mirrored one—the way her pussy opened around his knuckles, the way the new black lines flexed when her thighs tensed.
He dropped to his knees on the bathroom tile.
The first long lick was flat and greedy.
He cleaned the fresh slick from her, then sealed his mouth over her clit and sucked in steady pulls while his fingers kept moving.
The wet sounds echoed off the tile. Jody braced her hands on the counter edge, head falling back, the mirror reflecting the flush spreading down her chest and the way her nipples had tightened.
Chase ate her like he had all the time in the world—tongue pushing deep, then dragging up to circle her clit, two fingers scissoring gently to stretch her open while he watched every reaction in the glass behind her.
She came with a broken moan, thighs trembling on either side of his head, pussy clamping down around his fingers in tight, rhythmic pulses. He worked her through it, licking up every fresh rush of wetness until she was twitching and oversensitive.
Only then did he stand.
He shoved his jeans down just far enough.
His cock sprang free—thick, hard, the head already glossy.
He dragged it through her soaked folds, notched himself at her entrance, and pushed in with one long, steady thrust that buried him to the hilt.
The counter edge dug into the backs of her thighs.
Jody cried out at the depth. Chase gripped her hips, pulled her right to the edge of the counter, and started to fuck her in deep, controlled strokes.
The mirror showed everything.
Her spread legs, the new ink flexing with every thrust, the thick shaft of his cock disappearing into her again and again, the wet shine of her arousal coating him.
Chase kept his eyes on the reflection as much as on her face, watching the way her cunt stretched around him, the way the fresh marks shifted and pulled.
“Look at yourself,” he said, voice rough.
He hooked one of her knees higher so the mirror caught an even clearer view.
“Watch how perfectly this cunt takes me. Watch my ink while I fill it.”
He ground against her clit on every downstroke, the dual sensation sharp and overwhelming.
“Next pieces are going right where I can see them in mirrors like this. Small ones. Exact. So every time I bend you over or spread you open I get to watch my work move while I pump you full.”
Jody’s orgasm built fast and hard. Her pussy started to flutter and clench around him.
Chase fucked her through it—deep, steady, relentless—then followed her over the edge with a low groan, burying himself to the root and flooding her in thick, hot pulses.
He kept thrusting through the aftershocks, short and grinding, working every drop deeper until the excess leaked out around his shaft and ran down onto the white counter in glossy streaks.
He stayed inside her afterward, breathing hard, one hand stroking the un-inked curve of her waist while the other stayed locked on her hip so the mirror still framed the claim he had just made.
“Mine,” he said against her mouth, quiet and certain. “Every mark. This cunt. All of it.”
When he finally pulled out, a thick rush of cum followed.
He watched it for a long second in the mirror, then scooped some onto his fingers and pushed it back inside her with a slow, thorough stroke.
Only after that did he clean her carefully, re-bandage the newest pieces, and carry her back to the bed.
He laid her down in the center of the dark sheets, stretched out beside her, and pulled her close so every piece of his ink pressed against his skin. The afternoon light kept shifting across her body, highlighting every line he had put there.
He was nowhere near done.
Morning light cut across the bed in clean white strips.
Chase woke her with careful hands.
He peeled the bandages back one by one in the bright daylight, inspecting every new line.
The inner-thigh pieces had settled into a deeper pink overnight, the skin still slightly raised but clean.
The delicate work right along the outer edges of her pussy looked perfect—tight, shiny, already becoming part of her.
He smoothed a fresh layer of ointment over all of it with slow, proprietary fingers, lingering on the softest, most private marks until Jody’s breath started to hitch.
“Still sore?” he asked, voice rough with sleep.
“In the best way.”