“What?”
“Take the fuckin’ clothes off, Anika,” I order her. She looks at me and finally sighs before pulling her clothes back off. I smirk, knowing I’d get my way. I always do with her. “Get back over here.” She slowly walks back over to the bed and climbs onto it. I reach for her, pulling her into my arms.
“What do you want?” she asks.
“I want your pussy ridin’ my face.”
“No.”
“No?”
“I said no. We fucked three times already,” she says. I know how many times I’ve been inside her.
“And?”
“And I need to go.”
“You keep comin’ back. Why?”
“The sex is good,” she says calmly. No, there’s something else. I’m not saying the sex isn’t good, it’s fucking off the charts with her, but there’s something more that she’s looking for, and right now she isn’t willing to tell me what that is.
“And?”
“What do you mean and?”
“And what else?” When she doesn’t answer me, I sit up and start to climb off the bed. That’s when she stops me.
“What the hell is that?”
“What?” I ask.
“That! On your shoulder.” I smirk as I turn to face her.
“Someone scratched me, and I decided to keep them,” I tell her.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a tattoo.”
“Of scratches?”
“Your scratches.” She looks at me, unsure of what to say. I thought that would leave her speechless. I grab my boxers and pull them on when she climbs off the bed and comes up behind me. I feel her fingers move over the tattoos before she moves to stand in front of me.
“Why?”
“Because I like when you mark me.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I fuckin’ like it, Anika. And now I’m keepin’ your mark on me.”
“Are you crazy?”
“You want the honest answer?” I ask her. She nods her pretty little head, and I give it to her. “Yeah. I’m fuckin’ crazy. I do stupid shit, I do illegal shit. I do a lot of shit, Anika.”
“And you kept my marks,” she whispers.
“Why not?”
