"Mmmm," I moan over her clit, "say it again."
"Kass."
Her hands fist my hair, tugging hard enough to sting, but I don't care.
I stick my tongue deep inside her, then replace it with two fingers. If I couldn't taste how wet her pussy is for me, I'd know by the sound it makes when I pump my fingers in and out of her.
I can't take it any longer. I need to be inside of her.
Standing to my full height, I shuck off my shirt and discard it on the floor, and my pants follow shortly after. I stand there and watch as her eyes rake down my body, red hot fire blazing behind them.
Then her eyes stop, and her face changes. "Kass. What the fuck is that?"
"Huh?" I look down at the spot on my torso where her eyes are fixed. "Oh shit. Yeah...I sort of did something a little crazy."
"Kass." She points now, as if I didn't already know what she's talking about. "You have a new tattoo on your stomach."
"Yeah."
"When did you get that?"
"Raina did it for me a couple of weeks ago."
"I saw Clover painting it in class. She said she saw you drawing one like it on your tablet."
"She painted this moth?" I'm a little shocked, but notentirely. There have been plenty of times when I've caught Clover trying to copy my work. Luckily, this time it was kid-friendly.
"Yeah. I figured it was for a client. Not for you."
"It was an impulse decision. Not one I regret...yet. Just don't break my heart, okay?"
"Break your—? What does that have to do with me?"
"Come on, Blake. You're the art gal. Aren't you supposed to be good at deciphering hidden meanings and shit like that?"
"Yeah, but..." She continues to stare for a bit before she leans forward to inspect it more closely.
It's still healing, so when she runs her fingers across the skin, it's a little tender. But her touch is healing to my soul, so it cancels out the discomfort.
"Kass..." she whispers.
I can feel her breath on my skin, and it reminds me that a minute ago I was uvula-deep in her pussy and about to ravish her in every way I could think of. But right now, I need her to understand how much I care about her, physical stuff aside.
"Blake." I run my fingers through her hair, gently grabbing to tilt her face up toward me. "Even after you kicked me out, I couldn't forget about you. You consumed my every thought."
She quirks a brow at me.
"I know, really fucking annoying, right?"
Her lips curve into a soft smile at my bad joke, but I can tell she's dying for me to explain all this to her. Does she really not get it?
"I'm so drawn to you, even though I know pursuing you likely wouldn't end well. Even though I knew you'd be the death of me."
"Like a moth to a flame..."
"Exactly."
Her hand slips under my shirt she's wearing and grazes across her tattoo.
