AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I spend the next couple of weeks with the guys coddling me until it’s almost suffocating while the weather grows cooler. My shoulder heals enough that the stitches come out, and Tarl is pleased that there’s no numbness in the area which would hint at nerve damage. I have a fresh scar to add to the collection, and one morning, I gaze at my body, frowning at my reflection in the mirror, looking at all the scars that decorate my skin.
“Why the sad face, Nightingale?” Jude asks as he comes up behind me, wrapping his tattooed arms around me and tucking his face against my neck. Goosebumps erupt all over my skin and I melt into him, our bodies brushing in a dizzying wave of heat as he’s bare-chested and I’m just in some emerald-colored, lace underwear that he bought for me.
“I hate all these marks,” I confess softly, my gaze tracing the scar on my stomach from where I was stabbed there when I led the guys to Soldier HQ several weeks back.
“But they are a part of you, and all of you is beautiful, Nightingale,” Jude states simply, and I catch his gaze in the mirror, his eyes showing nothing but heat as he looks at me.
“I don’t want to constantly be reminded of all the shit that’s happened in my life, Devil Prince, and that’s all I can see when I look at them in the mirror.”
He stills, his head tilting as he considers me for a moment. We’re in my room, the stunning mural of the birds behind us. I watch as a slow smile spreads across his plush lips. “Then I will cover each one up with a tattoo,” he says, beaming, and excitement pools in my chest.
“You will?” I ask, squealing as he spins me in his arms so that the front of our bodies are pressed together.
“I’ll even let you choose some of them,” he offers, no hint of how fucking wrong that statement is, given that it’s my body, but I love him regardless.
“The girl with stardust in her hair, I want her,” I answer back, pushing away from him a little so I can look up at his handsome face. A slight blush steals over his cheeks, the sight so unusual that I pause, my hands on his bare chest. “You’re blushing, Jude!”
He gives me a boyish smile that fucking ruins my panties and sets my core quivering.
“I drew her for you, she is you,” he admits, his hand coming up to stroke down my hair, his ocean-deep eyes following the move as it trails against his fingertips. “You are starlight, Nightingale, lighting our way in this dark, fucked up world.” His voice is barely above a breathy whisper, and my whole body tingles with the reverence in his tone.
“You are my anchors,” I whisper, his intense, passion-filled stare flitting up to mine and devouring me. “You keep me here, showing me that there’s more to this life than pain and suffering. You make me live, not just survive.”
A single tear drips down his cheek, his breath stuttering as he grabs my waist and pulls me closer, eliminating any space between us.
“Promise me you’ll never leave us, Nightingale,” he demands quietly, pulling a flip knife from his pocket and flicking it open. “And seal your oath in blood.”
I watch as he takes my hand, opening it up and then running the knife slowly across my palm. A hiss falls from my lips when the pain registers and my heart beats wildly in my chest as he repeats the move on his own, scarred palm, crimson welling in the cut. He flips the knife closed, putting it away, and then grasps our hands together, our blood mingling.
“Jude Taylor, I swear on all that I am, and everything that makes me, that I will never leave you and the Tailors,” I say, my tone hushed, as if the words that I am saying are too sacred to be said any louder.
“Lark Jackson, I swear on all that I am, and everything that makes me, I will never leave you. I will protect you until my final breath, and then from the world beyond this one,” Jude vows, holding my gaze the entire time.
Warmth suffuses my entire being as we just stare at each other, our words swirling around us and binding us closer than I have ever been bound to another living soul. A wide smile splits his beautiful lips and my own tug upwards, matching him.
“Come on, Nightingale, let’s make a start on your new ink,” he beams, not letting go of my hand as he drags me laughing from the room, not even allowing me to get dressed.
* * *
I’m woken up from my deep slumber by the scent of motor oil and cloves and the combination of soft lips and a scratch of stubble as someone kisses the back of my neck.
“Knox,” I moan, stretching in my sleep, then hissing as the pulse of the new ink on my back sends a wave of pain flashing through me.
“Shhh, baby.” Knox’s deep rumble vibrates over me, his hard length pressing between my bare ass cheeks as his body hovers over mine, not touching my new tattoo. I whimper, wriggling as he slides inside me, my ass lifting to make it easier for him. “That’s it, Little Bird, take all of Daddy like the good little girl you are.”
Another deep groan leaves me as wetness rushes from my core at his dirty words. The boy knows how to bring me to the edge with just a few choice phrases. We both moan when he’s finally in me all the way, seated to the hilt. He’s so fucking big. It’s a delicious stretch, one that, no matter how many times he’s inside me, I can’t get used to and love every fucking time.
“Fuck, yes, Daddy,” I whine, my hands clawing at the sheets underneath me as he slowly pumps in and out of me.
“And you’re Daddy’s good little girl, aren’t you?” he rumbles in my ear, and I twist my head, blinking my eyes open to see a glint of silver on the bed, the knife gripped tightly in his fist. A flash of fear makes my fingertips go numb, but we both grunt as my pussy clenches around him.
“Yes, Daddy,” I reply in a breathy whisper, and he pauses in his thrusts.
“Be a good girl and twist your arm around so the inside of your bicep is facing upwards,” he commands, his voice a deep, gentle purr. Heart thudding, I do as he orders, the position not the most comfortable, lying on my stomach with my arm twisted so the underside is exposed. “Such a good girl for her Daddy,” Knox coos, bringing up the hand with the knife closer and running his finger along my bicep until he finds the bump where my birth control implant is. “And you’re going to continue to please your Daddy, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” The word is barely more than a breath as I watch him bring the knife tip to the place he just traced with his finger. With a flick of his wrist, he makes the cut and I cry out, my body shaking as he uses the tip to pry the tiny device out, letting it fall to the bed along with the knife.
“You beautiful, good girl,” he murmurs, moving his hips once more and helping to chase the sting away by giving me blinding pleasure. “You want me to fill up this pussy with my cum and put a baby in that belly of yours, don’t you, Little Bird?” A deep, animal sound leaves my throat, my hands once again gripping the sheets underneath me as pleasure rolls me under. He stops suddenly and I gasp on a sob. “Use your words, baby.”
