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He gives into my needs I didn’t know I had.
“Beg me to scar you, little doe, beg me to carve my name into your skin.”
I clench around him. The idea of him carving himself into my skin should horrify me, but it makes me so wild I can barely see. I want that; I want his name in my skin. I want him to see it every time he looks at me.
Right here and right now, I am wholly his.
“Beg me,” he snarls, stilling inside me.
“Please, Gray,” I plead desperately. “Please mark me, fuck, carve anything you want into me. I want to wear your name. I want you to see it every time you look at me. I’m yours.”
His eyes close as he slams me down so hard on his cock it hurts, and then he stills and presses the knife into my skin. He watches me, as if waiting for me to back out, but I don’t.
I tilt my head and meet his eyes as the knife cuts into my skin. He glances down as he starts carving the G and then stills, waiting for me to reject him.
But I’m willing to do whatever it takes to have him.
“Finish it,” I beg. Snarling, he finishes the G and starts on the R, but the sharp pain mixed with his huge cock has me winding my hips.
“Stay still or it will be messed up.”
“I can’t.” I’ve always loved pain mixed with sex, and he has to pin me down as he continues to carve into my skin.
I feel the blood dripping down me, the pain obliterating everything else as he bathes me in his fire.
With his eyes on me, he lifts the knife, checks out his work, and brings it to his mouth before licking the sharp edge, cutting his tongue as he tastes my blood.
“Fuck!” My head drops back, but he forces me to look at the knife as he goes back to my skin just above my mound.
As he carves the last letter and bottoms out in me, I come so hard I pass out.
The pain fades into exploding pleasure until I submit to the welcoming darkness that is always reaching for me.
I should have known my ghost would drag me back to the living, though, and when I come to, he’s hammering into me, watching me wake up with his cock in me. He stares at the carving as he pounds into me, and it seems to drive him wild.
Snarling, he pulls from my cunt, pumps his cock, and squirts his release all over my cunt and his carving.
I slump then, feeling his release, my blood, and sweat on my body, and I’ve never been so happy in my entire life. Grunting, he licks the carving and his cum. “Fuck, little doe, you shouldn’t have let me do that.”
“I don’t regret it. I’ll have it tattooed on my face if you want,” I tease, and despite the self-hatred I see filling his eyes, he chuckles and kisses above his name.
He reaches up and releases my hands. They flop back, and he massages them until I sit up and look down. There, in smooth lines above my cunt, is his name, and the sight of it sends a pulse of pleasure through me.
If he’s fucked up for liking it, then so am I, but fair is fair.
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I roll him so he’s under me. He lets me, clearly expecting me to attack him, so when I grab the knife and hold it above his chest, he merely folds his hands under his head, daring me to kill him.
“Do it,” he demands.
“I’m not going to kill you, Gray,” I murmur as I lean down and kiss him. “I’m just going to carve my name into you so we’ll match, and every time you look at your chest, you’ll see me. I want you to know that you belong to me as much as I belong to you, my ghost.”
He jerks beneath me, but when I straddle his torso, he doesn’t protest, even as I grind my dripping cunt along his abs. “What, nothing to say?”
“I’ll happily wear your name, little doe. I’ve always been yours, no one else’s. Cover my entire body in it if it will make you happy,” he says without reservation.
Why is the idea of this dangerous, huge man willing to scar his entire body to make me happy so fucking cute?
Pressing the tip over his heart, I arch my brow, and he leans up into the blade, piercing his skin. I watch the blood drip down his chest, and he groans. “Go ahead, little doe, ruin me. Do whatever you want to me.”
