“Can’t wait.” She beamed up at me, her long lashes fluttering. “But I meant … them. I thought you were going to tear me apart from them, but it was the opposite. You always show up, and you strengthened me to tell them they needed to. Maybe they won’t show up for me all the time. But tonight, they did.”
“They did,” I agreed, grateful it worked out because I’d promised her that I would fix it. “Sometimes, you need to smash through barriers to establish new ones.”
“You did that,” she whispered, still basking in the warmth of the party. “You gave me the inner circle I needed so I could still hold on. The Noires are one hell of a shield.”
“We sure are. That includes you now, baby.”
That was about an hour ago. The party is still pumping, but we extended our thanks to everyone and excused ourselves to start the after-party in our own suite, using a hidden stairwaythat Axel had built for us. It leads from the pantry in the penthouse to our coat closet, so we can utilize the rooftop entertainment area anytime we want.
Which brings us back to the real festivities.
“This is dangerous and moronic,” Tessa grouses while swiveling her hips.
She presses the tool into my pelvis again. I’m not usually one to squirm from discomfort, but I sink my teeth into her clit—you know, for pain management.
She belts out a melodic cackle. “How the hell am I supposed to do this when you’re doing that?”
My tongue laves over her weeping core with lazy probing. “Let’s finish both at the same time so I can sink my cock inside my wife’s perfect pussy. I’ve waited long enough.”
“Your eagerness is glaring me in the face.” She nudges my dick out of the way, but not before she teases me with a leisurely suck of the leaking tip.
When she resumes her mission to etch her words into my skin, I spread her open more, relentlessly devouring every inch that I can reach, immersing myself in her sweetness and blazing a trail to her puckered hole. I’ll never have enough of her. Her taste. Her smell. This is the flavor of my forever.
Plunging three fingers inside her, I curl them to hit the coveted spot. The high ceilings, whirring tool, and sexy tunes swallow her moans, but I don’t let up. Not even as the tattoo machine scrapes an area that isn’t quite numb. I lick and lap and consume, and my radiant wife falls apart on my tongue while branding me in yet one more way.
Her thighs tremble against my jaw, her moans bathe me in warmth, and her inner walls pulse as she floats down from her high. After dismounting my face, she smooths a clear adhesive bandage over the fresh tattoo as I hoist myself up on my elbows to get a better look.
Right above my greedy dick, it reads,If found, please return to Tessa Noire.
I bark out a laugh. I told her to put her name there because of the snarky lie she’d uttered a while back. One that made me see volcanic red and want to rip down the pants of every man she’d ever met to examine whether her name was on him. That should have been a solid clue that she owned me, but I had about a week or two of delusion left in me.
“Better than a dog tag.” I rise from the tattoo chair, grip her chin, and seize her mouth in a swift but sultry kiss. “I’ll grab us cocktails. Get ready for round two.”
A cheeky grin plays on her lips. “Oh, yes, getting me liquored up for the next one seems wise.”
I saunter out to our great-room bar, mix some drinks, and return to her. My gaze rakes over her curves, and I’m as enamored as I was the first time I glimpsed her divine naked body. “You are a work of art, baby girl.”
She’s got her own pelvic ink, drawn by me. Hers is in gothic font and reads,Drac lives here.
We clink glasses, swill our drinks, and indulge in another annihilating kiss before I resume my position on the reclining chair, fisting my hard shaft and pumping to relieve some tension.
For all her eye rolls and gripes about this idea, she climbs on top of me, notches my engorged tip at her entrance, and slides down without objection.
A chorus of our collective groans rings out, accompanied by thebuzzof another design. She drags the tool against my flesh, all while I have the most stunning view. Between each mark, she rocks her hips, grinding into me as those Caribbean blues that have bewitched me for years hold me captive with a future I never envisioned, but would die to preserve.
“You are so ravishing, inside and out.” I sweep my thumb back and forth over the silky skin of her hip, intoxicated by her heat enveloping me and everything this day represents. “The reason for every breath I take. I love you. I’d love you even if you didn’t love me back.”
“Love makes people stupid,” she deadpans, her gaze flitting between the stenciled words she’s tracing inside a melting album on my chest and my face with mischief. “So, clearly, I love you back, more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything.”
“Clearly.” I slink my finger to her clit to lean into that opinion and really make this a memory. I’m rewarded by her clamping down on my shaft like a vise.
“Proceed at your own risk,” she chides, her tone woven with lust and levity.
“That vision of ecstasy painted on your gorgeous face is worth any risk. If the letters bleed together, we’ll make it a black cloud.”
She bites her lip and pants through the remainder of the tattoo, balancing both her desire and her endeavor. Finishing in record time, she sets the tool down, patches up my pec, and snaps a quick picture before flipping the phone around to show me her work.
Forever lost in the song of my beautiful Nightmare.
