Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“We need to talk about something.” Her voice seems to be aiming for serious but missing the mark.
“What’s that?” I sneak my free hand closer and cup her breast, rolling her nipple between two fingers.
Her lashes flutter. “No fair, I had something to say.”
“So say it.” I rub my thumb against the hard tip.
“When…why did you do this?” She slips her hand under my shorts and grazes the first piercing.
“How’d they work for you?”
“Uh, amazing.” She slides her hand lower, wrapping her fingers around my swiftly hardening cock. “I think this one tickled some special zones I never knew I had.”
Unexpected laughter bursts out of me. “Discovering new lands, I like that.”
She gives me a gentle squeeze that turns my laughter into a low groan. “I’m serious.” She releases me and shifts her body so we’re almost eye to eye. “Did you do it for an ex?”
Ahhh, now I get what she’s after. “No. You’re, um…” I clear my throat. “The first one to test them out.”
“Bullshit.” She pulls back and frowns at me.
“Not my first. The first since I had them done,” I clarify.
“Oh.” She laughs softly and pink spreads over her cheeks. “What made you do it? Did it hurt?”
“It hurt like a motherfucker. But only for a few minutes.” I shake my head. “I had an apprentice in the shop last year.”
She tilts her head, waiting for me to continue. I rub my thumb over her hip, hoping the tame backstory won’t disappoint her.
“He needed the experience. Can’t have my shop on someone’s resume if they’re a menace to the world, ya know?”
That’s the clean, easy answer.
She blinks.
“You volunteered?”
I shrug and consider a joke to laugh it off and move on. But she’s staring at me intently, waiting for my answer.
“Yeah, I volunteered. It felt like a choice I finally got to make.” I pause, searching for the best way to explain it. “My whole life, decisions have been made for me. Even my own body.” I rub my hand over the horse tattoo on my pec and the chains trailing over my ribs. “I didn’t choose these. They were burned into my skin when I turned sixteen.”
“That’s why they move and react the way they do,” she whispers.
I nod and trace my finger over her shoulder. “I don’t have a pain kink, and it wasn’t for a partner.” I swallow hard. “It’s just a modification that I chose.”
Her expression softens. “Something all yours. I get that.”
“Yeah.” I exhale, relieved.
“And you helped out a fellow artist.”
“Well, Lucy supervised—”
“Wait, she what?” Emery pokes my side.
“Trust me, it was as horrifying for her as it was for me.” I squeeze my eyes shut and force an exaggerated retching sound from my throat. “We made a pact to never, ever speak of it. And not to have any more apprentices in the shop.”
Emery bursts into laughter, the movement jiggling her breasts in the most distracting way. “Poor Lucy.”
“Poor Lucy!” I widen my eyes with false outrage. “What about poor Declan?”
“Yes, having two people—wait, did anyone else have to supervise?” She sputters the words in between fits of laughter.
“No.” I can’t help grinning.
“You’re laughing.” She points a finger in my face. “I like it on you.”
“Thanks.” I cup her breast again and swirl my thumb over the tip. “I didn’t do as thorough an inspection as I’d planned. But you’re a blank canvas, aren’t you?” I push her hair aside and pretend to peer over her shoulder.
She pulls her shoulders back, giving me space to cup both breasts.
“Your nipples are perfect.”
“Don’t get any ideas.” She glances at my hands. “No steel through my nips.”
“Titanium?” I lean forward and suck one nipple between my lips.
She laughs, then gasps. “No way.”
“They’re very sensitive. You might enjoy it.”
“I might enjoy a lot of things I’m not going to try.” She sits up straighter and holds out her unmarked arm. “I thought about maybe getting a tattoo, though.”
I circle my fingers around her wrist and tug her closer. “What’d you have in mind?” One corner of my mouth slides up. “Let me guess—crows?”
“Yes!” She grins and bounces slightly.
Her enthusiasm is a shot of sunlight straight to the darkest spaces in my chest. I drag her back down, settling her on top of me, her hair falling like a curtain around us.
“What are you thinking?” I ask. “An attempted murder…or a full-on mass murder?”
She grins at my goofy crow pun, then rests her chin on her folded hands. “I haven’t decided if I want a big artistic piece—a proper murder of crows—or just one sad little black crow all by himself.”
“Crows,” I murmur, brushing my fingertips along her spine. “Figures. Little curious crow.”
She scrunches her nose at me. “You know it’s perfect for me.”
“It is,” I agree. “When you’re ready, I can help you.” I pinch my fingers together and trace an invisible line along her shoulder. “I’ll sketch something.”