Dangerously Inked (4 page)

“Don’t move, Roison,” he commanded, his jaw tight.

She licked her lips. Her sex clenched. All she could do was lay back and open her thighs.

“Christ, what you do to me, girl.”

He yanked her thong off in a flash and bent between her thighs.

Yes, thank you…please…

He kissed her swollen pussy lips over and over, soft kisses that led to nibbling bites. Desire built inside her, ready to explode at any moment. She had to bite it back, not wanting to come too soon. But when he laid the flat of his tongue on her needy clit and thrust two fingers inside her, she couldn’t help it—she came in a torrent of cries and pleasure, flooding his hand and his mouth. He kept working her as her body spasmed, his fingers curving to hit her G-spot, his mouth sucking at her clit. She came again in mere seconds, pleasure crashing over her like an ocean wave while she panted and groaned.

“Ah, God, Finn…”

“Again,” he ordered.

She wasn’t sure she could…until he forced her thighs wider apart and began to fuck her hard with his fingers while he flicked his tongue at her clitoris—hard, relentless, plunging into her over and over. Pleasure built once more, spiraled even higher for having come twice already.

“Now,” he ordered. And it was that one word that set her off. She came again, her climax ripping into her, making her writhe, pleasure so intense she couldn’t even cry out.

Before she was done he was on her.

“Now,” he said again, his tone rough with need.

She felt the enormous head of his sheathed cock at her opening, and she let her legs fall wide to accommodate him.

“Yes…need you, Finn. Now.”

He raised himself up on his arms, paused while his sparking, blue gaze searched hers. He almost looked as if he were in pain, his expression was so torn with desire, his gaze burning hot.

“Going to fuck you through the wall now, girl,” he told her, demanding that she take it with his tone.

“Yes, Sir.”

He held her arms over her head with one strong hand and slung his hips, burying his cock inside her.

God, he was big. She was filled, stretched. It felt so damn good. It hurt a little. But she was wet enough to take almost anything.

She lifted her head and kissed his muscled shoulder, then bit into his flesh.

“Ah, yeah, bite me harder, girl. Do it.”

She let her teeth really sink in, tasting him, devouring his flesh. He tasted like he smelled-the fresh, powerful ocean on her tongue. Filling up her mouth as his big cock filled her pussy. He slid out, then in again. Then again, and again, every stroke bringing exquisite pleasure, making her need to come yet again. And as he pounded into her she did, crying out his name.

“Finn!”

He let her arms go and wrapped both of his around her waist, holding her tight as he rammed into her until she thought he might tear her apart.

“God damn it,” he gasped. “Lord, girl…need to fuck you so hard.”

A few more stabbing thrusts and he tensed. She filled her mouth with the sweet, tender flesh at his neck. Heard him groan as he came inside her—so hard she could feel the pulsing heat through the condom.

His weight sunk onto her body, crushing her, but she loved it, found herself needing that closeness, even if it was all an illusion.

That’s all it ever was, wasn’t it? Even the D/s relationships she’d been in had been nothing more than hollow shells, cheap imitations of the intense bonds others made within the kink realm.

I don’t even want that.

What was wrong with her? This was just great chemistry, great sex. And maybe four orgasms trying to convince her that she wanted something more with this man.

“Finn,” she whispered. “Please. Fuck me again.”

She needed to stop 
thinking
 so damn much. What better way?

“Oy, you’ll have to give me five minutes, pretty girl.” He lifted himself up and stared down into her face. “Hmm…maybe make that three.”

She smiled. He 
did
 want her.

And really, 
what the hell
? Despite her desire to submit, she’d never reached that truly submissive place where she gave a damn about making any Dom happy. She knew what she was worth, and if any man couldn’t appreciate it…But he did. She was driving herself crazy.

Finn stroked her hair from her face, a move so tender it made her heart twist.

“What’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours, sweetheart?”

“Just…processing.”

“You want to tell me what?”

Hell, no!

She shook her head. “Not particularly.”

“But you’re alright?”

She forced a smile she didn’t really feel. “Just dandy.”

His pale brows drew together, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead he hefted his hulking frame off of her, then lifted her in his arms and carried her to the small velvet couch next to the table. He sat down with her in his lap and covered them both with a soft blanket.

She felt…like a doll in his lap. Like a child. A little lost. She didn’t understand why.

It’s just sex.

He’s just a man.

I am losing my shit.

“Sweetheart?”

“What?”

“If you need to cry, you can with me. I know I’m all bluster and balls, but I’m good with aftercare. It’ll be whatever you need it to be.”

“I…what in the world makes you think I need to cry?”

He tilted his head a little, smoothed his thumb over her cheek. She was horrified to see it came away wet. She didn’t know what to say.

“Was this a cathartic play for you? Because if that’s what you needed you should have told me. Have you been through bad times recently?”

“No, it’s not what I needed. I’m fine. I just…I did go through a breakup a month ago, but it wasn’t that big a deal.”

“How long were you with him?”

“Six months. But it wasn’t serious. I never...it’s not like I was in love with him.”

“Tell me about him.”

“Why?”

One corner of his mouth crooked up in a small grin. “Indulge me. Consider it an order.”

He tightened his grip on her waist, and it was as commanding as it was reassuring.

“There’s not much to tell. It was a long distance thing—he lived in Texas.”

“Was he kink?” Finn asked.

“Yes, a Dom. Or…well, he was but things just never really gelled with us, you know? I never got to that place with him. I knew I never would.”

“I’m sorry, Roison.”

“No need to be. I’m not, really. Not about him.”

He brushed her hair from her face once more, his hand slow, soothing. And something else in the tenderness she felt from him.

It’s good aftercare. That’s all.

But it felt like more. She didn’t want to be pulled in by it. She never was. She wouldn’t be now.

Still, it felt lovely, and she closed her eyes and let herself breathe in his ocean scent one more time.

He leaned in and nuzzled her cheek. “It’s obvious there’s more. But I won’t force it from you, pretty girl.”

She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the sensation. “There’s always more, for everyone, don’t you think?”

“Hmm? Yeah, I do. In fact, I know it to be true. We all have something.”

“So what’s yours? Or do I dare ask, being that I’m on the ‘s’ side of the D/s slash.”

He tensed. “It has nothing to do with me being the Dom. But I don’t want to talk about serious matters right now. Not when I have a beautiful subbie girl in my lap, naked and still wet from your last orgasm. Not when you asked me to fuck you again. Did I say three minutes? Time is up, sweetheart.”

He turned her face down across his lap, and she felt the pressure of his hardening cock on her belly.

Oh, yes, this was better. This she could handle.

He spanked her, his hand coming down hard on her bare ass.

She moaned. He did it again. And again.

Oh, he had hard hands, the spanking a thrilling sting that got harder as he went, until she was moaning and writhing in his lap. His cock was rock-hard now—her body was pressed up against the rigid shaft as he spanked her.

He paused, and she heard his ragged breath mixed with her own.

“Did I say three minutes, Roison?” he demanded of her.

“Yes, Sir. Three minutes.”

“And how long has it been, do you think?”

“I’m not sure.”

He smacked her ass hard.

“Oh!”

“Try again, Roison. Do your math. I’ll give you a moment.”

“It must be…ten minutes…?”

“Ten works. You will get ten swats with the cane, one for every minute you distracted me from fucking you again.”

“Ten minus three is seven. Sir.”

“Roison…” he warned with a low growl.

“I’m not being mouthy. You did tell me to do the math.”

“We’ll make it eleven for having to be right.”

She giggled. She couldn’t help it. Her brain was already flooding with endorphins from the spanking. And she did love canes.

He must have had it right next to the sofa because in a moment he was holding her down with one firm hand on her lower back, and the sharp crack of the cane came down on one ass cheek.

“Ah!”

“Hurts, does it? But that’s why we love it, isn’t that true, girl? Now count for me. How much was that?”

“One.”

“One, what?”

“One, Sir.”

“Better. Now don’t forget to count.”

The cane smacked her other cheek and she yelped, then remembered to call out, ‘Two, Sir!”

The rest came hard and fast. She was gasping out the numbers, working hard to convert the pain that was building into an almost impossible height. Finally it stopped after she called out, “Eleven, Sir!” But she didn’t have a moment to catch her breath before Finn stood with her in his big hands and had her back on the table on her hands and knees.

She heard the tinsel rip of a condom packet, then he wrapped an arm under her hips.

“Spread, girl. Yeah, that’s it.”

He impaled her—there was no other way to even think about it. One heavy jab and his huge cock was buried so deep inside her she swore she could feel it in her womb. If she hadn’t been soaking wet he would have torn her up inside. As it was, it hurt just enough to make the pleasure spiral so fast it made her head spin as he rammed into her over and over.

When he grabbed her hair in one big fist and pulled, she came, her pussy clenching around the thick shaft hammering into her body.

“Ah, God! Yes!”

Pleasure was heat and light, burrowing into her system, beneath her skin. Her pussy squeezed, needing more of his beautiful flesh.

Before the last edge of her climax had a chance to dissipate, he demanded, “Again. Come for me again, girl. Come 
with
 me.”

He pulled her hair so hard the front of her body came off the table, until she was on her knees, her back pressed against his broad chest. His cock filled her over and over, hitting her g-spot perfectly in this position. His arm was like a vise around her body, his fingers pressing on her swollen clit.

“Come on, sweetheart. Going to come any second. Come with me. Do it now,” he gasped. “
Now
, Roision!”

She felt his cock begin to pulse inside her, and her body responded to his pleasure—it drove her own higher, to that heady crest, and over the edge. His body jerked as he came. She shivered under him, panting and mewling, she was so worn with pleasure. With the absolute command she felt with this man. This Dominant. The real thing, at last.

She didn’t even know what to do with it. This was what she’d told herself she’d been seeking. What she’d been waiting for. And now it turned out to be some pick-up play, with some guy from out of town who had a reputation for being a lady-killer. Her in Dominant male form.

Oh, this could be bad. Very bad.

She pulled in a breath, held it before she released it.

So, she would focus on tonight. The 
now
. Because the now was damn good.

As the infamous Scarlett had said, tomorrow was another day.

Rosie was glad she’d decided not to come into work at Midnight Ink until noon. Taking the day off on New Year’s Day hadn’t been quite enough to recover from New Year’s Eve. Not just from the play and staying up until three in the morning. It was 
him
, too. She’d needed all day to simply dream about him—his touch, the incredible breadth of his shoulders. His command…

She shook her head, trying to shake off the languorous mood he’d put her in. Languorous and a pervading sense of sensuality in even the simple things she did, like making herself coffee in her French press at home, curling up on the sofa under a soft blanket. The many times—had it really been four? Five?—that she’d retreated to her bed or the shower to try and relieve the lingering burn of his hands on her.

It was one night. Forget about him.

It might take a while with this one. But she’d never been one to moon over a guy. Not even the gorgeous and eminently Dominant Finn, with his hot Australian accent and his even hotter body. Hands that could bring pain and pleasure in a single touch.

Stop it!

She waved hello to the gentle giant Caliph who glanced up with a smile from the client he was tattooing, and at Eli, their darkly beautiful piercer, who was talking on his cell phone, before stashing her purse in the cabinet at her station. She was glad to see Sassy, the tattoo shop’s manager, had set her up already with a sheet of plastic wrap over her counter, the small plastic ink pots lined up in a row, stuck to the wrap with ointment. Her first appointment of the day was due any minute. She hung her sweater on a brass hook set into the raw brick wall and sat on her wheeled stool, rolling her shoulders. She was still sore all over from the play she’d had with that monster of a man.

Finn.

Her head was spun—that was certain. She didn’t like it. In retrospect, she probably should have ended the scene as soon as she realized what an impact he was having on her. It was unfamiliar. Dangerous. The idea that she really might have done anything he asked of her…

But God, the sex had been amazing! She was sore from that, too, but in the best way possible. She felt deliciously 
used
. And damn it, she was getting wet again just remembering.