Page 67 of Rayne

"Oh," I mumble, unsure how to feel. "Thanks."

Hawk drops his gaze to my pussy, humming to himself. "This is still ours though."

I laugh a little at his words. "Really? I'm surprised you haven't marked it," I muse, remembering my conversation with Jenna about men wanting to mark their territory.

Hawk looks up at me, a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm going to."

Reaching into his back pocket, I gasp as he pulls out a pocket knife. I'm not sure what's more confronting—the knife itself, or the dried blood, confirming his earlier story.

He stands up, turning the tap on behind me. He rinses the knife thoroughly, the water turning pale pink as the blood washes off. I watch as he rubs some soap over it, his finger running along the blade before he flicks the tap back off.

Dropping back to his knees, he pushes my legs apart with his hand, lifting my left one onto his shoulder.

"Stay still," he orders, pushing a hand flat against my inner thigh.

I stare, entranced as he brings the tip of the blade to my skin, a few inches down from my pussy. When he decides on a spot, he presses more firmly onto my thigh with his hand, before digging the tip into my skin. I let out a little hiss, but don't move as he draws into my pale skin.

It burns, the pain making me want to jolt and flinch away, but I stay completely still. My hands dig into the basin, and less than a minute later, he sits back, a look of amusement on his face.

"There," he says, running his fingers over the bloodied wound.

I look down, spotting a 'H' smeared under the blood.

"You carved your initial into my thigh," I mumble.

Hawk smirks. "Now it's mine. Seems only fair since you scarred me."

"What?" I ask bewildered.

He tilts his neck to the side, revealing little red lines down his jawline and neck. I don't know how I didn't notice them before and my mouth falls open in shock.

"The elevator yesterday?" I mumble, but I already know the answer.

Hawk leans forward, pressing a kiss over his mark, tongue rolling up my leg. My head falls back as I wait for him to go further up, but he stops, pulling back.

Glancing down, I stare mesmerized at his red lips, a small trace of blood over them. I cup his face, leaning over to kiss him.

"If fairness and equality is what you're after, seems only right that Jett gets a turn," I tell him between kisses.

He nods, standing up, and swiftly picking me up. I let out a tiny squeal in surprise, wrapping my arms and legs around him as he carries me out of the room.

"I can walk," I say nervously as we approach the top of the stairs.

"I prefer to carry you," he answers, easily descending.

When we enter the kitchen, Jett turns around, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"You're naked," he points out, stirring something in a pot.

Hawk walks us over to the kitchen island, laying me down next to some food packages. "We need you before she showers."

Jett heads over intrigued. Pushing my thighs apart, I watch as he immediately finds the carving in my skin, a smile appearing.

"I see," he says simply, reaching for the knife block.

I watch them both closely, Jett running his hand up on right leg as he holds a kitchen knife up. Giving me a quick grin, he turns his attention to my thigh, picking a spot parallel to Hawk's marking and pushing the tip of the blade into my skin.

The familiar burning sensation returns, but this time, I'm at ease. I lay still, relaxed—much like when I get a tattoo.

---