Page 93 of His Hell Girl

His eyes immediately widen. Stupefied, he looks at me as if I'd grown a second head.

"You mean…" he trails off, dumbstruck, and for as long as I live I don't think I will forget the look on his face. The incredulity on his face reminds me of the time he'd deemed himself unworthy of my tears.

"I want one dagger here," I take his finger, the tip touching my skin as I show him what I have in mind, "and another line starting from the tip of the blade, here." I move his finger around in the shape of a V.

He doesn't speak, still looking at me reverently, his gaze fixed on the small scar at the base of my neck.

"And I want a red drop of blood falling from the blade," I continue, letting his finger trail down to my collarbone. "Because our relationship was forged in blood, tested in blood, and made stronger by blood," I remind him.

Our paths had crossed because of blood, and our relationship had been destroyed because of blood. But in blood we'd foundeach other again, and we'd shared every little piece of ourselves — every sin, and every transgression.

"Sisi…" he starts, shaking his head at me as if he still can't quite believe it.

"I want you with me. Always."

"Your wish is my command, Sisi," he replies, his voice thick with emotion.

Opening a tube of anesthetic cream, he applies it gently over my skin, his attention wholly focused on spreading it evenly.

After cleaning it, he makes a quick draft in pen, giving me a mirror to check the design.

"Wow," I whisper as I crane my neck to see the entire drawing. The scar is no longer visible under it.

He even added some intricate details to the dagger, making it seem like an ancient relic. The hilt is thicker than the blade, ending with a rounded corner that has an encrusted jewel.

"Ruby," he says when he sees me examine the jewel. "Red like blood. Precious like blood. And beautiful like you."

And just like that he's back to work, focused again on my neck. As if he didn't just melt my heart with a single sentence.

"Tell me if it hurts," he whispers as he brings the tattoo gun to my skin, tracing the sketch he'd made.

It doesn't hurt at all. Like a tickling sensation, I only feel him glide over my skin, his breath hot as it lands right on my ear lobe, making me squeeze my thighs in response.

How is it that he makeseverymundane action so hot? I can't help myself even as I know that he needs to concentrate on my neck.

Instead, my eyes take in the great expanse of inked muscle, the flex of his arms, the defined pecs and…

I swallow as my gaze dips lower to his pebbled abdomen, the urge to touch him almost unbearable.

"Done," he says and I almost jerk in my chair. I hadn't been paying attention to anythingbuthim. Although the tattoo isn't big, I'm surprised he's done so quickly.

He cleans the area before giving me the mirror again to survey the final product. The V is clearly defined even as the dagger takes the central stage, immediately drawing the eye to it.

For the blood and the ruby he'd chosen a deep red, and as I see the drops fall from the ruby down the blade and toward my collarbone, I can't help but be impressed.

"This is amazing," I breathe out, turning to find him watching me with an inscrutable expression on his face. "What is it?" I frown.

"Hell girl… you have no idea what it's like to see my initials on your skin," he says, his hand hovering on top of the tattoo.

A crazy idea springs into my mind, and I blurt it out before I can think it through.

"Let me give you one, too. Matching tattoos. You can get an A. Here," I point toward his neck, one of the few areas on his body that's not covered in ink.

"You'd draw it on me?" he asks, almost as if he can't quite believe it. I nod, and a wide smile spreads all over his face.

"Do it!" He turns, giving me the side of his neck—the same area he'd done my design on—quickly going through the basics of tattooing.

Not a moment later and I have the tattoo gun in my hand, the tip touching his skin as I try my best to keep my fingers from trembling.

---