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The same thought that’s been sitting in the back of my mind all day whispers through my head now.All of this will be ending soon. I’ll go back to my life, and they’ll go back to theirs. So for now… just for tonight, I can be a little bolder than I usually would. I can let myself have this one thing. This small reminder of them.
I breathe in, out, then nod once. “Okay.”
The hunger in Malice’s eyes flares even brighter, and his voice is almost a growl when he speaks. “Take off your shirt.”
I can feel Ransom and Victor watching as I do, pulling the soft long-sleeved shirt over my head. Their gazes feel hungry, and my skin prickles under their undivided focus.
My scars are on display, the whole ugly mess of them, but for some reason, the urge to cover them up isn’t as intense as it usually is. None of the guys seem to be turned off by them, and when Malice runs his gaze over my body, he doesn’t flinch away from the sight of them or make a face.
Kneeling before me, he peels down the straps of my bra. Goosebumps race across my skin as his fingertips brush my shoulders, and then he reaches around and expertly unclasps the hooks at the back.
My breath catches, my nipples hardening as he slides the straps down my arms and tosses the bra away. I’m completely bare from the waist up, with nothing left to hide behind. They can see so much of me now, and I’m acutely aware of that fact as Malice’s gaze sweeps over my body. There’s heat in his eyes, but also something contemplative, like he’s an artist considering his canvas.
“Where are you going to put it?” I ask, anticipation brewing inside me.
I expect him to say my arm or something, probably the one that’s not as heavily scarred as the other. But instead, he lifts the tattoo gun and brings it right to my chest.
A soft gasp spills from my lips when Malice turns it on, the droning buzz of it filling my ears and making my pulse race.
It’s almost like the heavy thud of my heart serves as a beacon for him, because he lines the tattoo gun up over my left breast, right over my heart, and starts to work.
“Oh…”
The word leaves my mouth on a soft hiss as my muscles tense up.
It hurts, but not like I expected. The sensation is both better and worse than I imagined. I thought it would be a sharp, stabbing pain, since itisa needle being forced into my flesh over and over again. But it’s more like a long, prickling burn, like a million little bee stings.
I grip the couch cushions, reminding myself to breathe, trying to ride out the pain as it bursts through me.
Malice pulls the gun away for a bit, using a cloth to wipe away the excess ink, and I pant for breath through my nose, biting my lip hard.
It’s just a small break though, and when he gets back to it, the pain flares up again.
The cushion next to me shifts after a moment, and I glance over to see Ransom settling in beside me.
“The first time is always the roughest,” he says, smiling softly. “I’ll help you through it.”
I half expect him to hold my hand or something, but he goes for my pants instead, undoing the fly and sliding his hand into them. I gasp for a completely different reason when that hand finds its way into my underwear, and the first touch of his fingers against my clit makes me jump.
Malice makes a discontented noise, not looking away from his work, and I try harder not to squirm.
“Sorry,” I breathe, and it already sounds needy.
Ransom works my clit in slow circles, and the more he touches me, the wetter I get. The pleasure builds right alongside the pain, and it’s such a curious combination. They both burn in their own way, both too intense to ignore. Ransom’s fingers play me like an instrument, or like I’m a car part that he knows the ins and outs of so intimately, and he keeps stroking me, pressing down on my clit and alternating between fast circles and slow ones that drive me nuts.
The pain and the pleasure mingle together, blurring the lines between them until I can’t tell them apart anymore. Everything Ransom is doing, and the pain Malice is causing with the tattoo gun go right to my head, and I find myself moaning softly, spreading my legs wider.
I like it.
I like the way it feels.
It feels like every part of me is alive, and it’s been so, so long since I’ve felt this way. I’m not even sure I ever have before.
Victor’s eyes are on me, and I’m aware of him watching in that carefully observant way he has about him. He sees everything, documenting it for later use, and I wonder if he’ll keep this memory. If he’ll replay it later in his mind.
It has to be a sight. I’m topless, my breasts on display for all of them. Malice is kneeling between my spread legs, tattooing me, and Ransom has his hand shoved obscenely in my pants.
Ransom’s nimble fingers keep working me, and I suppress a shudder as a spike of pleasure hits me hard. My breath comes out in short pants, and there are soft whimpers mixed in as I get closer and closer to falling apart.
