Page 56 of Possessive Ink

“Hell no, Princess, you need my handprint on each of these cheeks,” I say, yanking up the back of her dress and fisting it as I bring my hand down on first one naked cheek and then the other. Two perfect pink imprints bloom slowly on her porcelain skin.

“Atticus,” she shrieks.

“It had to be done, Princess.” I chuckle, rubbing my palm over the marks I just left on her and admiring my handiwork as my chest swells with possession.

“Now I really need some panties,” she pouts.

“That’s not going to happen,” I tell her. “If I see you wearing panties, I’ll cut them off you and throw them in the trash.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she says, pushing out of my hold and taking a step away from me.

“When we pack the rest of your things, I’m going to get rid of every pair of panties you own.”

“I’ll buy new ones,” she barbs back.

“Then you’ll be wasting your money because I’ll throw them in the trash too.”

“What if I’m on my period?” she says smugly, like she thinks a little blood has won this argument.

“Do you use pads, period panties, or tampons? Or do you have one of those cup things you push up inside of you?” I ask without an ounce of discomfort.

“That is none of your business.”

“Everything about you is my business,” I tell her simply.

“I’m not discussing my feminine hygiene product preference with you.”

“Why not?” I question, genuinely unsure why this is an issue. “I grew up with a sister. I’m not squeamish.”

“Well, maybe I am,” she hisses.

“If you use pads or period panties, then I suppose I’ll make an exception on those days, but if you use tampons or a cup, then wearing or not wearing underwear during your period won’t make a difference.”

“Oh my god, I am not talking about this with you,” she hisses, outraged.

Smiling, I follow her across the closet to the mirror, watching as she turns and focuses on her reflection, clearly trying to ignore me.

Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I bury my face into the curve of her neck, pushing her wet hair out of my way so I can press my lips against her warm skin. “Do you think I plan to ignore you for a week each month when you get your period? A little blood doesn’t bother me. It won’t stop me from making you come. It won’t stop me from filling you with my cum. You don’t need to be embarrassed, because I want to know everything about you.”

“I don’t like you thinking you can just decide that I won’t be wearing underwear anymore,” she says, a hint of defiance staring back at me through the mirror.

“We still have a lot to learn about each other, and while I quite like it when you brat a little, I’m still the one who’s in charge. You gave me that when you claimed me as yours and gave me you as mine.”

“I—” she starts, but I hook my finger beneath the collar at her throat and tug lightly at it.

While I know she doesn’t understand the full implications of wearing it, and that I essentially tricked her into accepting it, she did agree to do as I say, and I haven’t held back or pretended to be anything other than exactly who I am.

“You’re crazy,” she says softly.

“With you…yes, I am. Indulge me today. If you truly hate being bare because it’s what I like, then we can talk about it later,” I concede.

“Fine. Just for today though, and you need to make sure that my skirt doesn’t lift up and that I don’t end up being arrested for indecent exposure,” she reluctantly yields as I softly thumb the side of her throat, my finger still beneath the collar.

“Thank you, Princess,” I purr, pressing soft kisses against her neck as her eyes fall closed, and she arches into me.

It takes more effort than it should to let her go, but I reluctantly give her space to dry and style her hair. Picking out my own outfit, I select a pair of slim-fitted suit pants and a black long-sleeve button-down. Not bothering with any underwear either, I wait until her eyes are on me in the mirror to fist my cock, then push it into my pants, the outline of my arousal clearly visible through the fabric.

Sliding my arms into my shirt, I fasten the buttons, then fold the sleeves back to my elbows, leaving my tattooed forearms on display.