When her body went limp and her breathing slowed, I flipped her over. Supporting my weight on my forearms, I stayed close, intent on seeing her. I maintained the same slow rhythm as before, the shallow thrusts more than enough. She drew her legs up, her knees hitting my elbows as she sucked in a high-pitched breath.
“Is this okay?” I asked, always worried about how fragile she was, physically and emotionally.
“Yes.” Her eyes were glassy, distant. She ran her fingers through my hair, and her heel came to rest on my ass, pushing down. “It feels good. You feel good.”
I captured her lips with mine, the kiss subdued.
“You can go harder,” she said softly against my mouth. Her voice trembled, the ripple echoing through her body.
I shook my head. The all-consuming need for her made the request difficult to deny, and it scared the shit out of me. “I want you like this.”
Her legs tightened around my waist as I continued to refuse what she pleaded for. But I couldn’t give in, because what I needed was to hold on to the connection we had for as long as possible. A flash of fire burned through me and settled in the pit of my stomach, signaling I was close. The lance of heat detonated like a bomb inside me, and I thrust into her harder than I meant to. Her limbs constricted around me.
I bit her shoulder like she’d done to me, leaving twin concave impressions I tried to kiss away. My arms burned with the strain of supporting my own weight in such a confined position. When I went to roll off, Tenley’s arms tightened around my back.
“Not yet, please.”
I hooked her leg over my hip as I rolled onto my side, taking her with me, still inside her. We stayed like that, mouths fused, hands moving over each other until her clock told me we needed to get out of bed. When I left the warmth of her body, it created a strange void that made my chest ache.
I wanted to stay in bed with her all day and keep that satiated expression on her face, but she had class and I had work.
“Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll make breakfast,” I suggested. Her hair was a wild mess. She looked like she’d stuck her finger in a light socket. It was hot, in a Tim Burton movie kind of way.
“I have a better idea.” She drew a lazy circle around my nipple, ghosting along the barbell. I tried to keep my dick from reacting but failed. “Why don’t you have a shower with me and I can help you make breakfast.”
“I like your plan better than mine.” I threw off the covers and sprang to my feet.
Taking in the lines of her body, I watched as she stretched. She was slow to get out of bed in the morning, always favoring her right leg. At first I thought I was the cause, but I realized it must be residual trauma from her accident, because after the first ten minutes the mild limp disappeared.
The shower took a long time. It wasn’t my fault, either. Tenley took great care in making sure I was clean. She paid special attention to the front of my body, particularly the groin region. I didn’t complain, and neither did my dick. Then I returned the favor, because I was all about equity.
Afterward we made pancakes. Well, I made pancakes and Tenley tried to keep TK off the counter. By the time we finished breakfast, it was almost eleven.
“I gotta get to work soon,” I said as Tenley put the last of the plates in the dishwasher and I rearranged them so she could fit more in.
Tenley glanced at the clock. “I should probably head out, too.”
“I’ll see you at six?”
“Mm-hm.” She fiddled with the collar of my shirt.
“You know, if you’re having second thoughts—”
“I’m not.”
“But if you were—”
Her eyes lifted to mine. “I want this.” The statement was loaded. She wasn’t just talking about the tattoo anymore. “I know it won’t be easy. And I don’t want . . . this . . . to stop. But you’re the only person who I trust to do this for me.” She looked at me intently. “So . . . how long will I have to wait after the first session?”
“For what?”
“For you.”
“Miss me already?” I smirked, but the twist in my gut unsettled me.
“I’m serious. How long?”
“A week, maybe a little longer. It depends on how quickly you heal.”
She tugged on my shirt and I acquiesced to her silent request, bowing my head to hers. There was nothing soft in her kiss; it was full of aggressive possession. Sometimes words were unnecessary.
*
My day was booked solid. It meant I didn’t have time to fixate on Tenley’s impending session or the resulting complications. I’d done enough of that over the past week anyway.
At five thirty I prepared the private studio. Once everything was set up, I pulled her file. I had modified the design to avoid the most concentrated scarring on her back. The ones on her shoulder weren’t too bad, which was good, because I couldn’t get around them. Part of the wings would inevitably cut through some of the most sensitive places. Lisa and I had a long talk about it, and she echoed my concern about how the ink would take. In the end we came to the same conclusion: Tenley wouldn’t be willing to postpone it, and I didn’t want her to go to someone else who might fuck it up.