Page 25 of Marked By Myth

Eventually.

I fucked into her softly, loving the squeeze of her pussy when I moved the tattoo gun back to her skin. There, in between her breasts, I started. This would be the telltale sign if she were to wake up. This was over bone.

I moved the gun over her skin, in script. She looked so fucking good, her skin turning red, slight droplets of blood littering her pale skin, next to the dark lines of my artwork.

Turning the gun off, I pumped a few more times into her, thrusting deep when I came, and stepping back to admire my handiwork. Fuck me.

Perfection. Her sweaty body passed out, my ink on her skin, and my cum drizzling from her pussy. I wish I could remember this moment forever.

Taking a mental photograph, I set about cleaning her tattoo and applying the clear gauze to protect it, before I packed up the kit and pulled on my pants, before I headed back to Ink’s room to drop the kit back off.

Yeah, my little she-devil was going to be pissed.

But that always made for the best sex between us. Smirking as I headed back to our room, I couldn’t wait.

Rox

Ow, fucking, ow!

My entire body ached like a motherfucker. How much did I drink last night? Opening my eyes, I could see daylight streaming in from the window.

Fuck.

The last thing I remember was…oh shit. The endless orgasms at the hand of my fucking asshole ex-husband. I mean, I really shouldn’t complain, I hadn’t been so fucking hot and heavy for years. I’d loved every single minute of it, just like I always did when I was with him.

But it was a mistake.

A mistake I would never tell Beck.

Oh fuck, I hadn’t messaged him last night. He was probably freaking out. Now, if I could only find my skirt where I’d had my phone zipped away in, I could try and make amends before he lost his cool. Pulling myself up, I couldn’t believe the ache and soreness I had between my legs and all over my body.

Was it a good idea to go home with Myth’s marks all over me? Fuck, I’ll just tell Beck I was in a brawl at the clubhouse. He’d believe that. He already had a foul taste in his mouth when it came to the club.

Edging off the bed, I moved into the bathroom to shower. I could feel Myth’s cum on my thighs. Fuck, first I needed to find a pharmacy to get Plan B, then I needed to get to an airport.

I moved past the floor length mirror on my way, something catching my eye in the reflection. Stepping back in front of it, I felt as if my entire world had shifted on its axis.

There, on my stomach in large black letters was his brand.

Property of arching over the top of my belly button, and Myth underneath it. That fucking wanker. He didn’t brand me knowing I was going home to my fiancé…no. He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t be that cruel.

His words from last night filtered through my mind. He wasn’t going to let me leave.

Well, fuck you, buddy.

Haven’t you been cheating on me for fifteen years? You’re still my wife.

Fuck. I moved to the edge of the bed and slunk against it, my stomach hurting from the pain and the gauze protecting the fresh ink. I stood up again, only noticing the fresh pain between my breasts now. Edging closer to the mirror, I was about to scream when I read in clean, neat script, “Adrian’s wife”.

Fuck.

Anger pierced me from inside out, and I moved into the shower, getting cleaned up enough to leave. I was so far gone from being pissed off, I could barely breathe.

I never should have come back.

I washed the fresh tears away and quickly dried, ignoring the new ink, and the feelings it stirred inside of me, before I found a shirt of his, and tucked it into my skirt, making it look semi fashionable, before I pulled my boots on.

Where the fuck was my phone?