Page 83 of This Wicked Curse


Font Size:  

“I’ve been no one’s victim, love.” I raise an eyebrow. “Well, maybe Pan’s, but all of this,” I hold my arms up, “I signed up for it, and I like them. They hide my scars.”

Scarlet tilts her head, and something swirls within those hazel eyes of hers at the mention of me hiding my scars. She looks closer, feeling across my chest. Her fingers meet the raised skin of the long scar that goes from the tip of my right shoulder to the bottom of my ribs on my left. “Like this one.”

“Yes, exactly like that one. Though, I’ll have to get where the coral got me redone. That was Nelvin’s newest edition, too. I don’t think he’ll be too happy about that.

“Is he the one who does yours?”

“Aye.” Her pupils are blown as she continues to trace line after line.

My gaze shifts from the tattoo gun to meet a pair of eyes that pull me in, like a moth drawn to a flame. Her pupils are blown, the bright hazel rings appearing darker than usual. They slide over my features, slow and deliberate, as if she’s mapping every contour, every ridge, every shadow.

Every blink feels like an invitation, and between the way her hands feel against my skin and that look, I have to swallow back the need to kiss her, to push her back on that bed... It’s not the time or place. I need to finish the bond, to regain some semblance of control, then I can do as I please. It’s needed to activate the link, anyway. I just have to get through this.

That’s easier said than done... Her long lashes cast playful shadows on her high cheekbones. The soft light of the lanterns paints her beautiful, fair skin in a warm glow. Her lips twitch into a sweet smile that just about undoes me.

I was worried I'd never see her smile again, at least not at me. Those first days, before I found out about her mark, I lived for those smiles and to hear her laugh. The noise alone was all I needed to forget that I’m not whole. For just a stitch in time, I wasn’t missing something because she filled that void... Nothing has quite felt that way since.

My heart kicks up, watching her, drinking in every second, like it might be the last glimpse I get at the way things used to be. I find myself instinctively swallowing as her hands trail higher, over my collarbones and up the length of my neck. There aren’t any tattoos there, but she does it anyway. Her fingers dust over my pulse and I suck in a shaky breath, feeling the weight of her gaze, the electric charge in the space between us.

She’s so close... so close. I can feel the warmth of her body teasing my skin. My eyes are glued to her lips. I don’t even know when I started looking at them, but seeing them move is the only reason I catch myself.

“What kind of man likes to be hurt?” She continues to explore, all shreds of fear gone, replaced by something that has butterflies swarming my insides. I’m never going to get used to this—her. I’m not even sure finishing the bond will put a damper on the pull she has on me. If it means being able to take my hat, though, I have to. Even then, it would be nice to not be completely at the woman’s mercy, to at least be able to walk away if I want to. Just right now, I don’t want to.

Fuck... I need to focus. I have a job to do, a tattoo to make, and if I can’t control myself long enough to place it on her skin, Nelvin will have to. And him doing something this intimate with her? Over my dead body.

Taking her hands off my chest, I place them gently in her lap, clearing my throat. “The kind you have no business looking at like that.”

“Looking at you like what?” she retorts, feigning innocence.

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Oh please. Your eyes nearly sparkled. I’m starting to think you’re turned on by villainous behavior.”

“Fine,” she says, turning her gaze away. “Where will it hurt the least?”

“Thigh or shoulder.” With the gun put together, I test it in the air, ready whenever she is to get started.

“Whichever is more discreet.” She pulls the hem of the shirt down as if it’s not long enough. And somehow, that little motion tells me exactly where I’ll be putting this tattoo.

“Thigh it is, princess.” I motion for her to lie back on the bed. Positioning myself in a chair next to the bed, I bring the tattoo gun to her thigh. I don’t even touch her with the needle, just the side, and as the cool metal connects with her skin, she jolts.

“Scared, are we?” I tease, enjoying this rare crack in her armor.

“Your hands are just cold.” If only she knew how adorable it is to me... She knows I can feel her nervousness leaching the bond, yet she pretends to be tough for my sake. I can respect that.

“Relax, little lamb” My voice is low and soothing. Cocking my head, I can’t help but notice the tremor in Scarlet’s hands as she braces herself. “Here.” I offer her my flask of whiskey.

“I’d rather not,” she protests, but my gaze hardens.

“Drink up, princess. It’s not optional.” She hesitates, but eventually, she takes the flask and swallows a gulp. Her face twists, clearly not a fan, and I bit back a chuckle. “Another. It might stop you from shaking.”

“I’m not shaking,” she breathes, but I know better. Gently tipping her chin up, I force her to meet my eyes. “Aye, you are. It’s okay to be scared, but I promise it won’t hurt as bad as you think it will. I’ll be gentle.”

Narrowing her eyes like she doesn’t believe me, she lifts the flask once more, taking a longer sip, then settles back onto the bed.

“You never know,” I say, sliding the hem of the shirt she’s wearing up over her hips. “You might even like it.”

“I seriously doubt that.” She doesn’t look at me, pinching her thighs closed. Since her clothes were soaked through from the storm, my shirt is the only thing on her body. And as much as I like it that way, clearly, she’s not a fan.

Grabbing one of the smaller blankets on the bed, I drape it over her, pushing the fabric up until just one leg is exposed.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like