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He doesn’t ask why I suddenly need a tattoo. I suppose people come in for ink for lots of reasons, and no one is fazed by my sudden urge to get one.

“Can I?” I ask, sighing.

“Yeah. Come into the office and chat with me first,” he says. “Jenna, I’ve got time, right?”

“Oh yeah. I’ll clear your schedule of walk-ins,” she says easily. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re busy.”

“Thanks,” I say, smiling as Arran steers me toward the office.

“Why are your eyes so big?” he asks, shutting the door behind us and pulling me into his lap as he sits. “You look like something is chasing you, baby.”

“Ugh, I’m trying not to be stupid,” I grumble. “I don’t want to feel bad for Draven. I refuse. No. Absolutely not!”

“But?” Arran drawls.

“But nothing!”

“Something happened on your date, and we haven’t talked about it. What’s this thing that has you scared?”

“Draven enjoys pain, and needs it to stay in control of his emotions and thoughts,” I say slowly. “I understand that in a way that’s scary. I don’t want to be like him. If I’m like him, then it makes me a not safe person, and if I’m not a safe person then⁠—”

“Woah, that’s not how that works,” he says loudly, dumping my bags on the floor and turning me around to straddle his lap. “You’re one of the kindest people I know. Kinks and pain are separate from that, baby. The way Draven treated you in high school also wasn’t a kink because it wasn’t consensual.”

I nod slowly as I try to understand that.

“Okay. So I’m not a bad person?”

“Far from it,” he snorts. “You’re shaking. Take a breath for me, sweetheart. Mmhmm. Again. That’s my good girl.”

I whimper as he smiles at me, and he kisses my lips softly.

“Reserve judgement on Draven for now. The fucker should stew in uncertainty, don’t you think?” Arran asks.

My lips curve into a smile as I nod.

“Now. I think that you should draw me a tattoo and then I’m going to take you home to fuck the worry out of your system,” he muses. “If you still want the tattoo tomorrow, it’s yours. Today, I think you need a little peace, because you’re all over the place. I have cuffs over my headboard. I’ll have you brace on it while I paddle your ass, fuck your tight hole with the tip of my cock, and⁠—”

“What if I want you to fuck my ass with more than just the tip?” I ask, fluttering my lashes at him. “I don’t want to be able to remember my name, Arran. I want your cum to leak from my glazed hole every time I move, and wish you were still inside of me.”

“Goddamn your mouth,” he whimpers, kissing me until I can’t breathe. “We’ll start with a lube and the tip, and you’ll be a good girl and fucking beg for more.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Killing me. Let’s go. You can draw later.”

I scramble up, leaving my purchases, even as I have to grab the wall to help with my eagerness to leave. Arran pulls my backpack over his shoulder and opens the door.

“I’m taking lunch,” he announces, his arm around my waist as we hurry out. One of his artists whistles while Arran flicks him off as I laugh. “Don’t burn the place down!”

“Bye, boss!” Jenna calls as my cheeks burn. Yeah, we aren’t being obvious at all.

I suppose that an afternoon of getting fucked into feeling regulated again works for me.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN

ALASTAIR