Page 68

“I don’t believe you. Look at me,” I said.

His chest expanded, then his eyes opened, dipping down and hitting me. His gaze was dark with bursts of gold flecks, swirling, intense. The fox was back. “I’m good, Jasmine. Not in pain.” He made sure to hold my gaze and not look at my nakedness when he said that.

A swooshing sensation dipped low in my belly, and I had to drag my eyes from his. “Good.” When I looked back down, there were more goose bumps—he also wasn’t soft anymore. Nope, he was hard as hell.

He’d looked at me, and he’d gotten hard.

My face heated when I realized that’s why he’d been concentrating so hard. I was about to ink a sigil on the base of his dick. He’d been trying to stay in control, now he’d lost it completely. Shit.

It had nothing to do with me, being touched was overwhelming him, he just wasn’t used to it, that’s all. He was a guy with a healthy sexual appetite. I was a naked female smeared in oil. Even if I was a mess, bruised from my fall with cuts that were still red and raw, I was bent over his dick. Of course he’d get hard.

I could be anyone.

I thought I’d lost you.

He’d said it when I woke up. I’d been unconscious before that, but I’d heard his voice off and on. I was pretty sure he’d called me butterfly, his voice rough and filled with fear. I tried not to think about it and focused on finishing the sigil.

Now for the next one. My face grew even hotter. “I just need to, um…your jeans.”

He lifted his ass and pushed them down like he had when I did his back. “Enough?”

“Yep,” I said way too brightly, trying to cover my embarrassment. The thick base of his cock was right there, the denim forcing it to angle down, which had to hurt in his current state. “I’ll try to be quick.”

He grunted.

I glanced back up and he had his eyes closed again, his arms crossed over his chest. “Just two more,” I said and started on the next one just above his dick. I outlined it, then carefully filled it in, wiping away the ink as I went. I finished it in record time, then paused to load up with ink and gather my courage.

“Okay, last one. Ready?”

He grunted again, his breathing shaky as I leaned over him and started spelling. I pressed my needle to the base of his dick. A thick vein ran down the middle, and it was getting in my way. “Sorry, I just have to…” I inwardly cringed as I used the thumb of my other hand to kind of press on it, moving it as I worked. “There’s a…a vein and I need a smooth, um…”

“Don’t talk, Jasmine,” he growled out. “Do not fucking talk.”

Now he was pissed at me? “So sorry if my voice offends you—”

“Not offended, Jaz. Your warm breath on my cock is the problem.”

“Oh.” I slammed my mouth shut, my cheeks so hot now my freaking eyes watered. Somehow I managed to recite the spell, while trying not to breathe on him too much, as I worked the tattoo gun. It wasn’t easy, not when I was fighting the instinct to push his jeans down farther. Not when I wanted to shove them all the way down and let his cock spring free to ease my curiosity. He smelled of soap and musk and the forest. My nipples tightened, and I bit my lip and did my best to stop the pervy direction of my thoughts and get this done.

“The outline’s done,” I said and used my cloth to wipe away the extra ink.

A shiver rolled through Ren, and my gaze shot up to him again.

“Finish it, Jaz,” he bit out.

“Right.”

“And don’t fucking talk.”

Oops. I forgot. I changed my needle so I could fill in the outline and dipped it in the ink spiked with my potion. I pressed it to the silky skin of his cock, and he shuddered again. I wanted to ask if he was okay, but I bit my lip and stopped myself. I had to keep wiping away the extra ink so I could see what I was doing, and every time I did, he jerked.

On the next swipe, he growled low. Tingles lifted across my scalp and down my arms.

Holy shit, he was really hard now. It had to hurt, having it forced down like that, not to mention my needle working over it. Shame burned through me when I was forced to squeeze my legs together to ease the intense throb there.

I finally did the last little bit, quickly swiped away the ink, then straightened. “All done.”

His arms were still locked over his chest, and he was breathing in and out shakily, as if he were trying to slow it down.