“E.” With the last letter, his eyes snap open, looking at me like I’m his next best meal.
With a tremor visible in my fingers, I hold up a mirror so he can see it.
“Beautiful.” Only he’s not looking at the artwork. He’s looking at me.
With hands still trembling like I’m coming down from a drug, I clean and dress his artwork.
No sooner than I’m done, he lifts me off him, placing me in his still-warm seat.
“Wha—” With swift assurance, he unsnaps and unzips my jeans.
He doesn’t stop working my jeans down and off. “You will wear my name as well.”
After changing out the needles, he uses the same colors, only he doesn’t go for my neck — I already have a tattoo there. No, he goes lower. Right at the dip above my pussy.
Not my thigh like the one I did for Easy. I watch as he inscribes his road name, La Serpiente, right below my pubic bone at the top of my mound.
Rising when he’s done, he looks at his handy-work. The cursive scrawl is a masterwork.
“Now there won’t be anymore questions about who you belong to. Not that anyone but me will ever see.” The smile he flashes is completely unhinged.
“Eek.” The sharp exclamation erupts from me as his hot mouth covers my mound.
The receding pain from the tattoo wraps around the pleasure his mouth brings as he devours my needy little pussy.
“Ohmygoodness.” Gasping in the empty shop, I let him spread my legs and pussy lips then tongue fuck me into oblivion.
In that moment, he could demand anything of me, and I’d willingly give it. I’ll be his Salome, his fuck toy dancing for the head of my enemies. He can do what he will, and I’d acquiesce with pride.
Wrapping my legs around his neck, I lock them, keeping him there, feeling every stroke, every lascivious thrust. There is no part of me unknown to him. A willing supplicant, I let him do as he will. Then, when he sucks and flicks my clit, teasing and edging me to a cliff, I’m more than ready to fly off.
Gripping his close-cropped head, I hold him there as I fuck his face, grinding my plush pussy lips against his ready mouth.My orgasm shatters me. Torn asunder and pieced together, I’m still in tatters.
Turning me so I’m draped over the chair, he slaps my bottom cheeks. “Spread’em.” Comes the most guttural command from the man who’s determined to own my soul.
Opening my legs as wide as I can, I hold on to the tattoo chair.
“Fuuuuck, that pussy is so pretty,” he says against my flesh before kissing me there.
“Ahhh,” my words end in a scream when he eases every inch of his long, thick dick inside of me.
“That’s my girl. Look at you taking my dick like it was made for you.” He doesn’t stop — giving me no mercy until he’s fully seated deep inside me.
“Yeah, squeeze that motherfucker. Strangle him.” He growls in my ear as I struggle to take him. “I don’t want to hear about another motherfucker wanting to try you.” Withdrawing, he takes his time working himself back in. It seems like with each increasing thrust he has something more to prove.
“There ain’t a motherfucker alive who can take you from me.” He fucks deep into me so hard my toes curl, muscles clench and kittykat answers easing his way with essence.
“Snake,” I whimper, clutching the back of the chair like my life depends on it. Every part of my being is his to own, and on a fundamental level, I’ve always known it.
Slowly over the years what we have grown into something beautiful and real.
His hand wraps around my throat as he pounds into me, hitting the area deep within me that has me seeing stars.
“That’s it, lil’ mama, give me everything.” Thrust after unrelenting thrust shatters me. “Tell me whose name I wear?”
“Mine,” I say readily, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps fucking me. He won’t stop until I’m ruined.
“Who do I belong to?” His sac slaps against the juicy warmth of me, adding to the sensation his dominance is evoking in my pliant body.
