She really was perfect.
Not just the way she took me, not just the way she trusted me completely, even unconscious, but the way she needed me like this.
Like I was her air.
Like I was her everything.
I eased out slowly, the wet slide of my cock leaving her lips with a faintpopas I slid off the bed.
She blinked awake, eyes still hazy, her voice small and raspy with sleep. “Where are you going?”
I leaned down, kissed her forehead, then her mouth, tasting myself on her tongue before pulling away.
She licked her lips slowly, chasing every last trace of me, tongue sliding over the plump curve like she couldn’t let it go.
My brain short-circuited; I had to shake my head to focus.
“I’m not going anywhere, pretty baby,” I murmured in a voice filled with certainty, my thumb brushing her cheek. “I’d never leave my good girl. Never.” I sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her into my lap, her legs draped over mine.
“I had an idea,” I said. “Something to help you feel more settled. Something permanent.”
She tilted her head, still licking her lips, her eyes wide and trusting.
I grinned. “You’re gonna wear my name, Ophelia. Right here.” I traced a spot just above her hip bone. “Mrs. Adler. In my handwriting. So every time you look in the mirror, you remember who you belong to.”
Her breath caught, eyes lighting up with a sudden, hopeful glow. “Yes,” she whispered, eager and breathless, leaning into me. “I want that. I wantyouon me forever.”
Her fingers curled into my shirt, tugging like she needed me closer, her voice trembling with excitement. “Please, Matty. I want it so bad.”
I kissed her hard, swallowing her eagerness, then eased her off my lap and onto the bed.
“Stay right there,” I murmured, standing.
She watched me the entire time, eyes never leaving me as I crossed the room to the closet.
I pulled out the small black case—my tattoo kit, needles, ink, everything ready.
Her gaze tracked every movement: theclickof the latches, theclinkof metal, the way I laid out the stencil paper, the black ink bottle glinting under the lamp.
She sat up straighter, knees pulled to her chest, lips parted, watching like I was the only thing in the world.
I set up on the nightstand, hoping it looked like I had done this more than the one time. When I snapped on the gloves and the tattoo gun whirred to life, the buzz filling the room, she froze.
Her eyes went wide, scared but shining. “Matty,” she whispered in a small voice. “Are you sure?” She reached for my hand, fingers trembling. “This is going to meanso muchto me. You have to be sure. Like…really sure. Because once it’s there, it’s forever. And I’ll see it every day, and I’ll love it, and I need to know you won’t regret it.”
I set the gun down, cupped her face, and looked her dead in the eyes.
“Ophelia,” I said, steadily. “I’ve never been more sure of anything. You’re my forever. This isn’t a whim. It’s a promise. I want my name on your skin so the whole world knows you’re mine—and soyounever forget it, either.”
She searched my face, then nodded, her eyes brimming with tears, but she smiled through them.
“Okay,” she breathed. “Do it. Make me yours.”
Her hand squeezed mine, and I was awestruck for a second at her trust…her devotion. It hit me harder than any stadium roar ever could have.
“Good girl,” I murmured reverently. “You’re so brave.” I kissed the hollow of her throat and heard the little catch in her breath.
I pulled back, eyes locked on hers, and picked up the stencil. My handwriting—Mrs. Adler—was already traced in as close to perfect as I could get on the transfer paper.
