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With a curse of submission, he flopped over onto his back and arched his spine, his spectacular tattooed torso carving into the duvet, pillows dropping to the floor as he pushed one arm up to grip the iron bars of the headboard.
“Take my pants down,” he grunted. “These are the only ones I have to fight in.”
Rising up on her knees, Nalla straddled his thighs and went to work on the button fly. She didn’t watch what she was doing. She focused on him, the way his other arm went over his head, how his calloused hands held on, what happened as his pecs flexed and the veins popped under his skin…
How those black-and-white tattoos changed shape as his hips twisted and turned with impatience.
The full design only became visible with him as he was now, and she stilled her hands on his fly as she took it in. In the center of hischest was a skull, and snakes, vines, and tendrils that looked like clouds flowed out of the eye sockets and mouth to all over his body, even the palms of his hands and under his arms… even the wedge of skin she revealed as she unbuttoned the top of his fly.
It was artwork that was alive, the design shaded so that it popped out like a 3D hologram, the execution that of an absolute expert.
His heavy lidded eyes focused on her. “What?”
“Your tattoo is… beautiful.” She put her palm on his six-pack, and swept it up over the skull. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
Sure, there were other skulls, and a vine was a vine, and clouds were clouds. It was the whole thing, the way it seemed to cover all his skin, that was so arresting. Plus how many hours had it taken?
Is his… erection tattooed?she wondered.
Well, that was something to figure out firsthand, wasn’t it. Getting back to work, she continued with those metal disks, slipping them free of their stitch-finished holes, until—
His erection exploded out at her, long, thick, and hard, extending up his lower abdomen. Dear Lord, he’d even inked his… shaft and head: A single vine wound its way up the arousal, rooted by the others that spooled out from his pelvis.
“It’s not original,” he said in a low, groggy voice.
“What?” she whispered as her eyes memorized what his sex looked like.
“I didn’t care about the design.”
“It’s beautiful… it must have taken hundreds of hours.”
“A human did it.” His words were guttural syllables. “I agreed to be a clean canvas, they agreed to use my special ink. Salt makes everything stick, doesn’t it.”
Tracing one of the vines on his hip across his belly, she liked the way his muscles beneath her touch flickered, as if they were trying to touch her back through the containment of his skin.
She paused just before she got to his swollen head, her eyes seeking his. “You don’t show this to people very often, do you.”
“At all. I’ve only ever fucked with my clothes on.”
Keeping her surprise to herself, she murmured, “Lucky me there was a fire tonight.”
With that, Nalla gripped his shaft, wrapping a hold on it—and his powerful body arched off the mattress. As his head kicked back, his lips peeled off his fangs, the dagger points bright white against the pink of his mouth and tongue.
The idea that his canines had been in her vein made her feel like having her own release. But she didn’t want to stop even if it was to get out of her own clothes or find an orgasm herself. Somewhere deep inside, she knew that what was happening between them was a fleeting thing, his self-protection only letting her in for this brief moment.
“Come for me,” she said as she started to stroke him.
As if he’d been waiting for permission, Nate instantly orgasmed, and with the first ejaculation, he pulled so hard on those wrought iron bars that he bent the headboard forward.
“Nallaaaaaaaaaaaa—”
“More,” she commanded him. “Give me…more.”
The animal sounds he made deep in his throat were something he tried to keep a lid on, and good idea on that. The bedroom wasn’t insulated for that kind of noise. What a cheat, though. She wanted to hear him loud and clear, hear her name again, hear all the moans. But she made do with what she got because there was also a perverse pleasure in witnessing him try to control himself.
And Nate’s tattooed body was so magnificent, from the sheer size of it, with his thicker bones and muscles, to the veins that were like ropes under his smooth skin. Sure she was a physically strong female, and he was right, she was good in a fight. But the power in him fascinated her, especially as he kicked out a knee and nearly punctured the mattress as he drove his heel into it.
Kneeling over his sex, she kept going, stroking him up and down, feeling the hot jets that came out of him slick things up, watching the ink in his skin undulate under the gloss until it looked like the tattoowas growing in size, the ivy twining, the snakes spooling, the clouds coming in like a weather front, all emanating from the skull at his sternum that was not evil, not fierce or horrific… but amemento morithat all living things die.
