8. Emma
Chapter eight
Emma
Iwake to the sound of a tattoo machine and cry out in pain as it rakes up and down my leg.
I scream and twist my head toward the sound.
I yank at my arms and legs, only to realize I’ve been tied to Trey’s four-poster bed.
He sits there with a cigarette dangling from his lips, smoke curling around his face as he squints in concentration.
I notice he’s wearing only a pair of black tattooing gloves and his black boxer briefs.
His massive, tattooed chest is on full display.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I shout.
He turns off the gun, leans back in his chair, and pulls the cigarette from his lips, blowing smoke toward the ceiling.
He huffs irritably, as if it’s my fault for interrupting him.
Trey stands to stub out his cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table, his hard dick at my eye level.
He turns away, ignoring me, and walks back to the chair beside the bed.
He sits down and picks up the gun from the portable tray attached to his tattooing case.
As if I didn’t even speak, he resumes tattooing what I can only assume is my butt.
“Hey, you big Viking biker giant, answer me when I’m talking to you.” I fight against my restraints, trying to get away. He shuts off the tattoo machine, and I’m rewarded with a sharp smack on my ass, making me yelp in surprise.
“Sit still, pet. You wouldn’t want shaky lines now, would you?
” He growls in his deep Southern drawl before spanking me again.
“In case you forgot, baby, you’re tied up right now, which means I’m in charge, and I don’t hear pineapple.
” Trey starts the gun back up and resumes tattooing me while I seethe, so damn turned on.
There has got to be something wrong with me mentally. I just know it.
“Where’s Fijor?” I ask, surrendering to the man.
“Over at my dad’s house with Harley and Cole,” he says, as if tattooing me without my permission were an everyday occurrence, as if this were something normal couples do, and as if I were somehow in the wrong for thinking otherwise.
“Are you going to tell me what you’re doing?” I grit out.
“I’m marking my property.” He states matter-of-factly, nodding as if he’s agreeing with some unseen conversation in his head, because he has damn sure not had this conversation with me.
But what's worse, his thinking this is acceptable behavior, or me not screaming pineapple? Maybe we are both messed up in the head. “I told the club and your father. You’re my Ol lady in every way now, pet. But don’t worry, you’re not the only one being branded today.
One of the brothers, Gypsy from Missouri, is coming up tonight.
He’s going to put your name on my neck.” I guess when he puts it that way, it does make it a little bit better… No, we are still messed up in the head.
The idea of my name on his neck is enough to have my pussy begging for its owner.
He shuts off the tattoo machine, cleaning away excess ink.
“Damn, I can smell your arousal, pet. We have some things to discuss first. Now, as far as Fijor goes, I want him to know I’m his dad from the jump.
After I finish here, you and I will take a nap, then we'll head into the city in my truck as a family to pick up anything needed to make this house feel like home. I refuse to spend another day without you guys, Emma. It felt like I served two prison sentences without you. If I’d known you weren’t just with another man you fell in love with, I would have come for both of you the moment I got out.
” The worry still lingers—he left me once; what’s to stop him from leaving again?
“What happens if you go back to prison? Am I supposed to pack up all my shit again and leave?” I grit out, my voice laced with distaste.
“I did what I thought was best for you at the time, pet. Back then, you had nothing but your heart tying you to me; things have changed. I let you go once; that was it. I’m not selfless enough to let you leave again.
I’m putting my name on your ass as we speak, sweetheart.
If I ever go back to do another bid, I’ll expect you to be my fucking old lady and stand by my side.
” He growls. “You know how this lifestyle works, pet.”
“So, we are just going to pick right back up where we left off?”
“That’s the plan, but keep fighting me, pet.
I’m usually wearing my belt,” he says with a teasing edge.
My cheeks redden as images of last night flash through my head.
He sprays a solution on my ass, then wipes it off.
“All done, baby girl.” He cleans up his tattoo supplies before coming to stand next to me. “Where’s the necklace I got you?”
“It’s in my jewelry box, which is in my bag. I haven’t worn it since Fijor was born.”
“Put it back on and leave it on.” He snaps the rope holding my arm to the post. “You look so fucking sexy tied up for me, but I’m going to let you lose for now.
We can revisit strapping you to the bed later at a later date.
I haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours.
You’re going to ride my face while you choke on my dick.
Then we're going to take a nap before we go to get our son. Sounds good? Good,” he states, not even bothering to wait for a response. Not that I’m complaining.
Trey climbs on the bed behind me, running his giant, calloused hands up and down my body, causing me to moan at being at his mercy.
He unties my legs before sliding underneath me.
His dick at my mouth. He slides my legs on either side of his shoulders.
My arms are still tied to the bed. “Be a good girl for Daddy, and choke on my cock, pet.”
His hands slide up and down my thighs before he latches his mouth around my clit.
He sucks hard before lashing it with his tongue, licking me from clit to ass.
I arch my back, pushing my ass down on his face without any thought.
“Fuck yeah, pet, smother me,” he drawls out.
His chest vibrates my stomach with his deep voice.
“See, pet, this is why you need your necklace back on, so I can choke you back to planet earth. Swallow my dick.” I don’t need to be told again.
I slide my mouth on his dick, tasting his salty pre cum gripping the ropes in my hand to give me a sense of stability.
“Oh, fuck that’s it, my perfect bitch.” He slaps the ass cheek he didn’t tattoo his name on. Causing me to moan around his member.
Saliva dripping down on his balls as I gag on his perfectly shaped dick.
He spreads my ass cheeks wide before slamming his face back onto my pussy, his beard rubbing against all the perfect spots as he lashes out at my clit.
Trey then takes his long finger and taps it on my g-spot, causing me to explode all down his face and beard.
I cry out my orgasm with his dick in my mouth, causing him to swell and spurt down my throat, using his feet for leverage.
He shoves his dick down my throat, causing tears to leak as I gag on his dick.
He roars out his release before collapsing back down on the bed.
I lay my head on his thigh, fighting for my breath after seeing stars from my orgasm.
He lightly strokes his hands up and down my body, telling me how beautiful I am, and I sink into absolute peace.
I have the life I wanted back, and although this would seem batshit crazy to some, I’m so excited for this future at this man's side. I’m ready to see him become the dad I wished he could have been from the start.
Not to mention, we don’t have to hide anything anymore, which is a huge relief.
I let out a deep sigh of contentment. “I love you, Trey.” I feel him slide out from under me and untie me, rubbing my wrists and arms to restore circulation.