Page 97 of Broken

I’ve thought long and hard about this. Ruby’s questions kept coming all day, to the point I had to give her some information. Not everything, telling her I don’t want to repeat it all to Sin.

She is impressed I tamed the beast. That is not the case. He’s still Garrett. Though he was different this morning. Softer. Even when he was making demands.

We’re taking another short break, and my eyes are closed, my hands on my stomach. I think I may have gone a little numb because it’s not hurting so badly when he isn’t tattooing. Or maybe it’s shock and my body has shut down my pain receptors. I’m not sure.

Garrett moves back over and my eyes pop open. He’s taken off his gloves. I’ve noticed he does that during each break and puts a fresh pair on to restart. It helped me relax further.

“You okay?” he asks. I nod. With his professional hat on, his eyes skim my body again, focusing on the tattoo. “There is about another twenty minutes to finish up. Think you can manage?”

He isn’t being sarcastic, he means it. He would stop with no questions asked if I say no. “I can do it,” I say, determined. I want to see the final image.

“Okay.” Garrett bends closer to check the tattoo.

It’s weird having him so close to me, yet not in the way I’m used to. When he looks up at me over the peak of my nipple, his eyes darken. His lips press to the underside of my breast. My breath sucks in, making my chest lift. Garrett takes it as an invitation and moves his lip over the mound and onto my nipple.

He took out the piercings, so he didn’t catch them while he is tattooing me. My hand drifts up to the back of his head and I grip his hair as he tongues my nipple. His hands are on either side of my body, only his mouth touching me.

“You don’t know how badly I want to fuck you on this bed,” he murmurs. “Seeing my ink on you,” he shakes his head, his base instincts warring with his mind. “But we need to get this finished.”

The change in his tone stuns me, drawing me out of the lust induced moment. He smirks when he sees the disappointment.

“Don’t worry, the night’s not over yet.”

“You’re awfully sure of yourself.”

He pinches my nipple. “This tells me all I need to know. Your body doesn’t lie, Vixen.”

No, it doesn’t. As he gets back to work, the pain is much easier to bear. All I can think about is Garrett peeling off my jeans and moving inside me. While he tattoos me. That’s a hell of a different type of fantasy scenario for me.

It would affect his ability to stay within the lines, so to speak.

I’m surprised when he straightens up, wiping at the ink, announcing it’s done. He uses a spray bottle that has a hint of an antiseptic smell about it to clean away the excess ink. Then he helps me sit up and after a few moments, down off the table.

We walk to the mirror together. Garrett stands behind me as I stare at the tattoo. All thought leaves my head. I barely notice my own naked boobs, too busy staring at the intricate perfect lines. The beautiful color pops and is so lifelike, I could pick it up.

I’m halfway surprised when my hand reaches out toward the mirror to touch it and laugh in embarrassment. My eyes meet Garrett’s in the mirror.

“It’s beautiful.”

He nods, his lips are tight and his jaw tense. Why is he so angry? His nostrils flare and I realize it’s not anger on his face. He moves his hands from my hips, gliding them over my waist and up to cup my breasts. He’s very careful not to touch the tattoo.

My heart thumps as I stare at his dark inked hands holding on to me, mixed in with the feel of his fingers feathering over my skin. It’s suddenly too hot in here.

He releases me and steps back. “Go back to the bed.”

The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument. With one last look at the tattoo, I turn and go back to the bed. My chest burns a little, but it’s not enough for me to call it a night and gohome. I boost myself up and turn so that my legs fall over the edge.

Garrett walks over and my shoulders go back in anticipation, but he walks to the end of the bed. I watch as he adjusts the back rest, raising it up. As he walks past me, he grabs my legs and lifts them, turning me on the bed. He goes to stand at the end, his eyes trailing up the length of my body, lingering on the tattoo before he stares straight into my eyes.

That contact is broken when he pulls off his T-shirt and tosses it on a stool behind him. The room is silent, except for the brush of my jeans as Garrett runs his hands up my shins, smoothing around to my calves and under my knees.

Our eyes are locked the whole time, until, he grips the back of my thighs and pulls me. I fall back onto the bed but the head rest keeps me from going totally flat. Garrett nudges my thighs, making me spread my legs so he can lean over me and unbutton my jeans.

A memory of the last time I was in here, taking care of myself after he ran away, filters through my head. I snap out of it as Garrett drags my jeans down my legs.

He wastes no time running his hands up my bare legs and grabbing the sides of my underwear. The way he exhales as he stares between my legs, makes me hold my breath.

Garrett doesn’t say a word as he presses his thumb against my clit. My back bows at the firm pressure of his fingers pressing inside of me. His focused gaze remains on his hand as he turns it over, bending the two fingers he has inside of me, reaching a place I’ve never felt before.

---