Page 72 of The Image of You

“You’re hurt?” I traced the edge of the bandage. “What happened, baby?”

“I’m not hurt.”

I looked up at her quizzically.

“You came home early. I was going to surprise you. I got a tattoo.”

My eyes widened. “You got a tattoo?” I repeated.

She nodded. “I thought the bandage would be off and you’d see it…”

I shook my head. “No. This is good—let me take it off.”

I peeled back the bandage, revealing her ink. Low on her hip, where only I would ever see it, was a small camera etched out over a swirl design. As I traced the design with my fingers, I realized my initials were woven into the swirls, over and again. She had marked herself with my name and the love I had of photography.

“Ally,” I breathed out.

“Do you like it?”

Bending low, I nuzzled the tender skin. “Yes.”

“I was too scared to get it on my chest. I was so worried it would hurt too much and I wouldn’t be able to finish it.”

“No, I like it here. Only I’ll see it. It’s mine.” I met her gaze. “You’re mine.”

“I am,” she whispered.

“Who did it?”

“I found a business card on your desk. I called the guy and he said he did all your tattoos, so I went there.”

I nodded. “Rod is great—his artwork of all my favorite legends is incredible. He worked on the designs for weeks. I’m glad you found his card.”

“I told him what I wanted, and he drew it up and did it.” She tapped my cheek. “He said he’d been working on a design for you, but he wouldn’t say what it was.”

I lowered my mouth to hers. “Trust me, Nightingale. You’ll like it. When it’s done, there’ll be no doubt who I belong to as well.”

I tugged her to the mattress, kissing her deeply. Then, with a grin, I rolled over so she was straddling me. My cock slid along her heat, aching to be joined with her. “You need to be on top. We won’t rub the tattoo, and I get to watch you move with my mark on you.”

With a low moan, she slid down, taking me inside. She stilled, our eyes locking at the intensity of our connection. It was there every single time, a living, breathing thing that surrounded us.

“Part of me is missing when I’m away from you,” I confessed.

“I long for you, Adam. I’m lost without you.”

“Show me, baby. Show me how much.”

I groaned as she started to move, my eyes never leaving the tattoo.

It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

I gripped her hips, guiding her over me, my thumb never far away from the ink she now wore. The need I felt for her was acute, alive and burning within me. Ally was feeling it as well. There was nothing slow or gentle about her today. Bowing back, she grabbed my thighs, her breasts jutting out and heaving with her deep inhalations. Her wild hair shimmered in the light, a fiery explosion that drifted across my skin like silk. She moaned and bucked, slamming herself down, her heat engulfing me.

“Ally,” I groaned. “You need to slow the fuck down.”

“No,” she panted. “Now, Adam. I need you now.”

She clutched me harder, her head thrown back. She cried out, and I rose, wrapping her in my arms, crushing her to my chest as she orgasmed. I buried my face into her neck and gripped her as I heaved and throbbed, lost in the moment. Lost in her. My world narrowed, funneled into one powerful pinpoint of pleasure. I rode it out, breathing her name, the intensity of my release exploding behind my eyes in sharp ribbons of ecstasy.