My Mother's Husband

Chapter 95

“Guess I was expecting a bit too much, I barely got two seconds in his arms after spending a week working on that guy. My goal in life right now is to have him fall in love with me as much as he is with her.” Laughter erupts from my throat, Kage wrapping one arm around my waist and letting me fall back against him again, resting comfortably as I continue my doodling.

It takes me a second to realise what I’m drawing, the exact same thing I drew last time; my little sprout of heather under the sunshine.

The thing that saved my life.

This has to mean something, right?

“Hey, you still got that tattoo kit?” He leans over my shoulder, looking at the design and smiling.

“Hell yeah, just give me a sec.” He goes back down into the apartment, emerging once more with the kit in one hand and an extension lead running up the ladder in the other. “Where do you want it?”

I literally have no idea.

To be honest I’ve never really thought too much about getting a tattoo before, I love them on everyone else I’ve just never found something I thought was worth putting on my body forever.

I look down at my arms, my chest, but nothing seems right... until I look down at the scars on my ankle. Reminders everyday of what I’ve lost, that I’d quite like to be replaced with the one thing I got to keep.

“There.” I stroke over the marks, Kage slowly lifts up my leg with his soft hands and sends tingles along my skin as he strokes right where I want it.

“I can do it.” He looks right into my eyes, an intensity weighing down on both of us as he keeps my skin under his touch. This is not how friends look at each other. “Are you ready for me to mark you?”

Is getting a tattoo supposed to be sexy? Because this feels really fucking sexy.

“Yes.” He smirks, before ripping out the design and getting me to trace it, setting up his kit and showing me exactly where it will be as he leaves the stencil on my skin.

It’s perfect.

“This is your first one, right?” He asks as the vibrations of the gun coming to life make my body tremble.

“Yeah... Tell me the truth, is it gonna hurt?” Not that I’m adverse to pain, I'd just like to know.

“That depends... Some of mine hurt like fuck, other ones put me to sleep. It’s one of those things, you either love it or you hate it. I’m fucking addicted.” I run my eyes over his time-stakingly decorated skin, so much of it covered in ink I can’t imagine him any other way now.

“Good thing it suits you then.” That makes him grin, his lips looking way to fucking tempting this close. He moves so he’s sitting between my legs, one draped over his lap and the other behind his back, the inside of my ankle staring up at him pleading for his art.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, but it shouldn't take too long.” I nod in understanding, preparing myself for what's to come when the needle touches my skin, an instant sharp burn piercing my flesh as he swipes it through, but then it's gone.

It’s not an unbearable pain, it’s not even a bad one. Comparing it to when I woke up after my surgery it’s nothing, and the more he does it the more cleansing it feels, each swipe of the needle sending quakes that run up my calf, into my knees and eventually up my thighs... until they’re shooting higher...

“Belle, you’re shaking...” Because you’re touching me everywhere, without touching me anywhere.

“Don't stop.” The words leave me with a gasping moan that I try so hard to stifle. I didn’t know it would feel this good.