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RHYS
I’m crushing Zara. I know I am, but I can’t move. My body is fucking limp after the mother of all orgasms just slammed into me like a freight train running over a puny human.
“I’ll move,” I mumble into Zara’s neck even though it’s a lie. I don’t think I can move.
Her hand strokes up and down my back. That’s the only reason I know I haven’t smothered her to death.
“I will. Swear.” My words are garbled. I think I’m getting worse instead of better. God damn. That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced. The way Zara’s magic felt as it combined with my own was not something I ever anticipated. I didn’t know that was a thing. But it was more than that. Even without the magic, the feel of Zara’s skin, the taste of her lips, her warm, floral and spicy scent filling my head, not to mention the feeling of being buried deep inside her, I had no idea I could feel like this. That sex could be like this.
I’m a fucking goner.
“I want you to lay here all night, but I might need to inhale at some point. Just blow some air in my mouth if I stop breathing, okay?”
I chuckle and then groan as I pull out of her tight heat and sag against the arm of the couch. “You’ve wrecked me. I’m broken. Every other good thing in the world will dim in comparison to what just happened.”
Fuck, I’m blubbering on like a lovesick poet. I push off the couch and get rid of the condom, barely able to keep my legs from buckling.
“Can you carry me back to Ruby’s house? I don’t think I can walk,” Zara groans from the couch where she’s still spread out. I love her easy confidence around me. I get the sense that she’s not comfortable in many situations, but with me, she’s always herself. Heat works its way into my chest, squeezing my heart in time with each beat.
“I don’t want to make it seem like I’m not manly, but there’s no way. I’m barely standing right now.”
Zara laughs, the sound making that band around my heart that much tighter. She pushes herself up and I make my way back to her side like it’s a compulsion, scooping up our clothing as I do. Pulling on my pants first, because no matter how badly I might want another round, there’s no way. I’d incapacitate us both for the rest of the night. Maybe the next day. Who the hell knows?
Standing in front of her, I hold out her clothes but bend down to press a soft kiss to her lips before she can get dressed. Zara sighs and blinks dazedly up at me. I pull away, running the back of my fingers over her check. I’m sure my own face looks just as awed.
“What are you doing the rest of the night…” My words trail off with a frown as I see a mark on her spine between her shoulder blades. I reach out before I think any better of it. My fingers brush over the inked mark. Zara startles and turns back around, quickly pulling her shirt over her head. For the first time, she looks embarrassed around me.
“What is that?” I search her face, trying to understand the shame rippling off her body.
She pulls on her shirt quickly, hiding her body from my eyes. She hesitates, swallowing thickly before responding. “It’s my owner's mark.”
“Your owner?” I bark out, and Zara jumps. I take a step back, rubbing my hand over the lower half of my face. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I just… what do you mean, your owner?”
Zara has her pants back on and her face is pinched as her hand creeps over her shoulder like she’s trying to reach the mark. There’s no way she could physically touch it where it’s placed, but the move looks practiced, like she’s done it a million times before.
“The Duke tattoos his crest on each of his drudges. That way, if we run away, he can prove we belong to him.” Zara starts to shiver, and I’m sure it’s not from the chill in the air. It’s actually stuffy in the small office. The early summer humidity starting to creep in everywhere, not to mention the sex lingering in the air.
“Is there magic in it?” I have no idea why my mind goes there, but a very real fear makes the blood in my veins start to boil. The bastard might have a way to find her.
“No. No, it’s just ink. He wouldn’t waste magic on the likes of us. We’re too far beneath him to be worth the effort. He just ensures our marks are in a place that we have to be exposed to show them off.” The fear in her voice changes to spite, anger quickly replacing all other emotions.
I don’t want the memory of my office and what just happened between us to be tainted with that prick’s memory. Grabbing Zara’s hand, I tug her toward me, and she stumbles forward, taken by surprise. I press her hand against my side, flattening her palm over my ribs. They’re littered with scars. Only you can’t see them because Ezra masked them with tattoos.
I’m not covered in them like Archer, but I have a decent amount. When Ezra first started tattooing, I offered to be his canvas more than once. He was always talented, but you can see his growth over the years. On one forearm is a woman with flowers in her hair, and on the other, a knife stabbed into a heart. On one bicep is a mermaid, and on my chest, on the left side near my heart, is a palm with an eye in the middle. Most of my tattoos are in the American Traditional style, but this one is much more stylized.
Over the ribs on my left side is a sun that covers up many of the cigarette burns that my father left on me over the years. It was a bitch to tattoo, but Ezra was patient as a fucking saint, making sure it was done right.
“I covered my scars with something I wanted. Something I consented to being placed on my skin.” I drag her hand from my side to my chest, and then to my forearms, letting her feel every inch of damage that was done to me over the years.
Her eyes flash over my skin, her cheeks flush. With anger? But then her brows pull down in confusion.
“Did you get a tattoo of Ruby?” Her head is cocked to the side as she stares at the mermaid on my bicep.
“What? No.” I crook my arm so that I can stare down at the tattoo.
Zara wraps her fingers around my arm, pulling it closer to her so she can get a better look. “It looks just like her.”
“Huh.” I look at the tattoo and then up at Zara as a smile breaks out over my face.
