“I’ll have to go exploring for them.” He picked the black marker and uncapped it.
“And this is a disincentive?”
His deep chuckle puffed against her belly as he leaned in and drew a long line down the left side of her rib cage. God, she loved the sound of his laugh. “Don’t move, now.”
Which of course made her want to lean up to see what he was doing. She laced her fingers together to fight the urge to play with his hair or stroke his shoulders. “I wanna see.”
“No, you just feel. For now. Trust me.” More lines.
“I do.” As the pen traced over her skin, a line here, a curve there, a bit of shading all in one place that was really hard to sit still through, she watched him work. Nick’s intense eyes and angular face and big hands were all incredibly masculine. It made his artistic eye and the softness of the pen against her skin so much more intriguing.
And it was so freaking arousing.
The whole time he drew, her nipples were peaked and straining. Dampness grew between her legs. How she could think of sex again after just having two amazing orgasms, Becca didn’t know, but she was tempted to drop the pens between her legs just to see what he’d do.
He scooted down the bed and drew on the side of her belly, over her hip, and onto her upper thigh. Trading out pen colors, he added to the drawing in yellow and blue and red. As his hands and eyes and ink moved over her, she became more and more certain she wanted Nick Rixey to tattoo her for real, to put his mark on her exterior the way he’d done inside. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday.
It was one of the most sensual and erotic moments of her life.
“There,” he said. “All done.” He flicked his tongue over his bottom lip.
Heart kicking up in her chest, she asked, “Do I get to see it now?”
Nick stood and pulled her off the bed, his cock fully erect. “Full-length mirror behind the bathroom door.” He chucked the pens into his nightstand drawer and followed her.
Her arousal spiked and was so much more noticeable as she walked. She was trembling with lust and anticipation. In the bathroom, she flicked on the light and stepped inside the small undecorated space, then let Nick in behind her before she closed the door.
She approached the mirror, Nick shadowing her. A guitar. He’d drawn an almost impressionist guitar down her whole right side, with the head and tuning pins just beneath her breast, the fretboard a long line over her ribs, and half the rounded body curving over her belly and hip. Extending from the joint of the neck and body was a single golden wing.
Tears sprang to her eyes. “It’s beautiful, Nick. Can I touch it?” She met his scorching eyes in the mirror.
“Yeah? Yes, you can. It won’t smear.”
Becca traced her fingers over the lines. What an incredibly thoughtful thing he’d done for her. She’d wondered about getting a tattoo, and he’d given her a way to actually see it on her skin. Not that she’d start with one this big, but still. He knew what the image meant to her . . .
Jesus, she loved this man.
She leaned back against him and held his hand to her belly when he hugged her in. “Thank you.”
“You’re beautiful no matter what, but that is so damn sexy.” He tilted his hips into her ass, his hard cock nudging her cleft. “I want to fuck you and watch how the ink moves on your skin.” She moved to turn toward him, but he grasped her shoulders and held her in place. “Right here. Just like this.”
She nodded, her heart pounding so hard she felt it beat under her skin everywhere. Paper crinkled behind her, and he tossed a condom wrapper on the counter by the sink. He nudged her ankles apart and stepped in close. In the mirror, she watched as he clutched her hip, bent his knees, and entered her from behind.
“Oh, God,” she cried, feeling him fill her. A strong arm wrapped around her chest and he grabbed her breast. She clung to his forearm, holding him to her. And then he was moving, hard and fast, her back arched, his grip providing leverage, their gazes colliding in the mirror.
“Beautiful Becca,” he rasped in her ear. The hand on her hip reached between her legs, forcing him to hunch around her as he thrust. His fingers pressed small, tight circles over her clit until she was panting.
In the mirror, his gaze alternated between her face and her body, and she understood why. Their reflection was so freaking hot. His muscles surrounding and guiding her, the tattoo on his bicep and the ink on her abdomen catching the light as they moved together.
The orgasm slammed into her out of nowhere. “Oh, God, I’m gonna come again,” she said, and then her body detonated. Her nails dug into his arm and her knees went soft.