“You get a trip to accident and emergency.”
“My vision’s fine. I have a throbbing headache, though.”
I put my lips close to her ear, whispering, “Now you tell me.”
A blush ignites, spreading across her skin like a drop of ink in water. “I don’t think it’s bad enough to prevent me doing anything.”
“Anything like what?” I tease, rinsing out the bloodied cloth until the water runs clear. I leave it on the edge of the sink and cup George’s face between my hands.
I enjoy looking at her like that. With my fingers framing her.
Despite the developing bruises, the swelling flesh, she’s never looked more beautiful. She’s never looked moremine.
I nudge her legs apart, pressing between them, near enough to kiss her again. The split on her lip tastes of blood, a little tang on the side to whet my appetite.
Her hips tilt towards me and I encourage them until her legs are wrapped around me, her heel in my butt pushing me closer.
I lift her, supporting her weight with one hand while I wave the other in front of me to avoid bumping her on anything as I carry her through to the next room. The zipper for her dress is on the side and once I’m standing by the bed, I hook it down, easing her nearest arm through the strap, changing my hold to free the other.
The fabric of the dress pools between us. It would be easier if I lay her down, but I don’t want to risk bumping her head, even on the softness of the pillow. So, I fiddle and fuss and gradually expose more of her skin to the air. It’s impossible to pull the dressoff with her legs wrapped around me, so I turn and sit on the bed, letting George reposition herself until she’s straddling my waist, kneeling, the outfit discarded on the floor.
We stay like that for long minutes, exploring each other in little bursts between kisses. I unhook her bra but when she tries to shake it free, the straps twist, catching her arms halfway behind her. A trick I wouldn’t mind replicating later, but for now it’s a mild annoyance.
“Just a second,” I whisper as she shifts her weight, ready to stand. “I will not be defeated by some scraps of lace.”
My knife makes quick work of it. I snap the blade closed but keep it in my hand as George returns the favour by unbuttoning my shirt, sliding it off my shoulders, intent on kissing every inch of the skin she exposes.
“Lay down,” she orders me, and I play the submissive, my smile stupidly wide as she takes command. A million miles away from the mouse she was that first night. Confidence looks good on her, unbelievably sexy, a side to her I’m privileged to see. “Hands above your head.”
I follow her instructions, happy to comply as I watch her work to strip all my clothes off me. When she tosses my suit pants and underwear aside with a crow of victory, my cock is rock hard against my stomach, eager for the soft press of her thighs against me again.
I can’t get enough of her.
Before tonight, I was already dizzy for her touch, falling under her spell a little more every day.
Then she told me she wanted me, and I finally understood why I’ve been chasing her so hard.
She’s everything I need, everything I desire, more than I deserve, the only one I can ever think of touching, now and into the future.
Mygirl.
She leans her weight forward, pressing on my wrists, her tits just above my face. I curl my tongue out, trying to reach one but she jerks away with a devilish glint in her eye. “Not yet. Not until I get to have a proper look at you.”
Her eyes scour me from top to toe, then her mouth follows, licking, sucking, nipping at my skin until she looks replete, then going back for seconds, thirds, while my cock grows harder, throbs louder, seeking her attention.
My hips thrust up against her, aching for more contact, and she laughs again. The tease of her flesh on mine makes me giddy. I want her to claim me the same way I claimed her earlier, to mark me as hers.
I flick out the blade on my knife again and offer the handle to her. “Show me,” I pant, tongue licking my lips before arching towards her to steal a kiss. “I’m yours if you want me.”
George’s eyes are puzzled. She lays the blade flat against my skin but doesn’t move it further.
“Can I?” She nods and I move my hands to hers, guiding the blade so it points to the side of my sternum. Then I dig the blade into my skin, a blade of crimson swelling, shining like a jewel.
“I-I don’t…”
“I can’t commit to you that way in public, not the way I should, but I can show you that you’re the only girl for me.” When she tries to tug her hands away, I exert a gentle pressure to keep the blade in place, ready for whatever design she wants to carve on me. “Put your initials so anyone who sees knows who I belong to.”
For a moment, I think she won’t do it. Her hand falters, she bites her lip despite the pain. Then her eyes clear, going from rough seas to calm waters. She leans forward, hair falling acrossher face, tongue sticking out between her teeth as she shapes the first letter.
