Page 26 of Hidden Ink

“I’m selfish enough not to want anyone else to do this,” he said, his voice low and gruff. He cleared his throat then, breaking the moment. She didn’t blame him. It was so serious, and yet, if she didn’t remember to breathe, she’d forget.

“Let’s get that trace done,” he said after a moment of almost-awkward silence. He helped her off his lap then got the paper ready while she stripped off her shirt and bra. She felt bare, exposed. She’d been far more naked than this, but for some reason, the way he traced her body multiple times reminded her of the hospital. Maybe it was the clinical way he was working with her. While she appreciated it, she wanted her Sloane back.

He paused and frowned. “I’m fucking up.”

She shook her head, her eyes clear of tears. She was pulling herself in so there wouldn’t be tears. No emotion. Just a raw ache that would never go away.

“You’re not.”

He let out a sigh and placed the paper and pencil on his table before bringing her into his arms. Her bare chest pressed against his clothed one and she sank into his hold.

“I wanted to keep it professional and not scare you, yet I didn’t think about why you wanted me to do your ink.”

“I wanted you to do my tattoo because I trust you.”

“Yeah, to know what you want, to do what you want, but I didn’t do what you need. You needed me to be a mix of the artist and the boyfriend. And I fucked it up.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t know that’s what I needed.”

“Well, I won’t fuck it up again.” He mumbled something else under his breath, but she didn’t quite catch it. “Let’s finish up, and I want you standing between my legs as I do it. You feel scared at all, you just touch me.” He licked his lips. “Or you could just touch anyway.” He leaned back and stripped off his shirt, the sight of his tanned skin, ink, and scars almost too much for her.

She placed her hands on his chest. “Will this hurt with the angle?”

He shook his head. “Nope. If I need you to move a certain way, I’ll ask.”

He kissed her softly then got to work, this time not clinical at all. It helped her body relax and keep her mind focused on him rather than the odd scenario of being traced for a tattoo that would take multiple sessions and be painful as hell. But she’d made it through the worst pain of her life; she could make it through this.

When he finished, he put his hands on her butt again and brought her closer to him. His lips brushed hers, and she sighed into him, loving his taste. It was a mix of the coffee they’d shared earlier and that unique flavor that was all Sloane.

The kiss started slow, sweet, and oh-so-perfect for what she needed. Then she made a sound in the back of her throat that always seemed to push Sloane right to the edge, and he growled right back.

Perfect.

His hands on her ass tightened and he deepened the kiss, his tongue taking control of hers. He set the pace and she didn’t mind it. Not when the outcome was him inside her and her nails raking down his back.

When he pushed her back slightly and stood in front of her, she let her hands run down his chest and hooked them into his belt loops.

“I want my mouth on you, Hails. Think you can stand when I do that?”

She shook her head. “No. The last time you put one of my legs on your shoulder while you had your mouth on my pussy, my knees gave out. Remember?” Her knees about buckled then just thinking about it.

Sloane ran a hand over his beard. “You’re right. Okay. I have an idea.” He quickly gathered her up, eliciting a squeak from her throat, and moved to the kitchen where he set her down on the island in the middle of his kitchen. It wasn’t that big of a kitchen, but the island fit. Barely.

And now her ass was on it.

Nice.

“Isn’t this where you cook?” she asked, tilting her head to the side so he could nibble at her neck.

“I’ve never put food on this. I don’t cook all that often. Now stop thinking and let me love you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut at his words but let him kiss her, then let him take off her pants. Hailey leaned back on her arms as he knelt in front of her, placing her legs on his shoulders. At the first lick of his tongue on her cunt, she let her head fall back, his name a whisper on her lips.

He devoured her. There wasn’t another word for it. The feel of his beard scraping the inside of her thighs made her even wetter—something she hadn’t thought possible before Sloane. He hummed along her clit and her legs shook as she came, his name that much louder from her lips.

“Sloane. I need you inside me.”

She looked up and he already had his pants off and the condom on his cock. Without a word, he gripped her hips and tugged her to the edge of the island. She sat up to put her hands on his shoulders as he sank into her. He was so freaking big that he stretched her, but it was a good stretch, the kind that led to orgasms and fucking rainbows and unicorns.