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“Sometimes our customers have specific tastes and they like to get tattoos in places that are a little less traditional than the arm, or leg—places that require them to take some, or most, of their clothes off.”
“Oh…” Withing her features I see all the things her pretty little mind is conjuring up right now, and I never want her to think I would cross a line or do something to jeopardize what we have. So, to put her at ease, I continue to explain.
“I hired Lilly because it’s good to have a female artist in the shop, especially for that, but also because it makes any female customers feel more secure about coming in to get a tattoo. Plus, most women would not sit there braless with their tits out in front of man to get a back tattoo. I rarely tattoo girls in more intimate places, and even when I do, I keep it strictly professional. I would never fuck with what we have for something like that. You know that, right?”
“I trust you, Bishop. I know that might be weird to say, but I really do.” She has no idea what her words do to me—how much elation and love they bring me. I’m weak for her, cut off at the fucking knees, and I’ll do anything to keep her happy with a smile on her face.
“Come. The tour isn’t over. I saved the best for last.” I guide her to my own work station, surprised by how excited I am to show it to her. I open the door and usher her in.
“This is my room, where I tattoo. I’m hoping someday you’ll let me bring you in here and I can tattoo on you.” There are multiple framed pictures of all the larger pieces I’ve done hanging on the black painted brick wall.
She looks around with a huge smile on her face and sits down on the chair in the center of the room. “What would you tattoo on me if I were to let you? And where would you tattoo it?” she asks, a curiousness in her eyes.
Mine.
“Whatever you want me to, wherever you want me to… I would love to put something right above your pretty little pussy. Something like, Property of Bishop.”
“Hmmm, I’m going to have to think about it. It’s rather tempting seeing as I truly am your property now.”
She’s got my cock hard, tempting me with such an image. Me between her legs, the buzzing of the tattoo machine as I tattoo her creamy white flesh in bold lettering that all but stakes my claim on her.
“Soon, I’m going to marry you, Ivy. I’m going to put a baby deep inside your belly and give you something to smile about every single day. I’ll cherish your pussy, spank your ass when you’re bad, and wipe away every single tear you cry.”
“You mean that?” She looks like she might break out into tears. I don’t want her to cry, not after last night.
“Every. Fucking. Word. Bambi,” I enunciate, so she knows I mean it. “I’ll make sure you feel wanted and loved. I’ll make sure you’re safe, and that no one touches you. Running away was your only option before, but now you have me, and I’ll do any and everything I can for you.”
In a second, she’s up, rushing into my arms, pressing up onto her tiptoes to kiss me. Her lips press against mine, and a raging fire engulfs my entire body.
“I love you, Bishop. I love you so much, it almost hurts,” she whispers against my lips, and I cup her by the cheek, wanting to taste every single inch of her flesh. She’s got me crazy with need, all the blood inside my body rushing straight to my cock.
“I love you too, Bambi, and as soon as we get home, I want you naked and spread out on our bed. Head down, ass up. I’m claiming that tight little asshole.”
She nibbles on her bottom lip, giving me doe eyes, and I’d bet anything her cunt’s dripping with need right now. Too bad we have to go see her asshole fucking parents right now.
“Claim it. Claim me. You already own all the best parts of me.”
And fuck if that’s not the truth. I own her heart, just as she owns mine.
Chapter Seven
Ivy
We walk into the ritzy restaurant where my parents ordered me to show up. I cringe knowing Bishop and I will stick out like sore thumbs. He’s in his ripped blue jeans and a white t-shirt, the black ink on his arms on full display. I’m wearing a t-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans we picked up from Target, along with a pair of sandals. It’s a long way from the dresses my parents would force me to wear every single day.
