Page 95 of Inked Desires
I cling to his shoulders, unwilling to lose that connection.
"What do you need to be happy?"
My heart pounds in my chest. The answer is obvious.
“You. You make me forget.”
“You’re sure about that?”
His fingers keep grazing my skin, sending shivers through me. My breathing quickens.
“I need you,” I breathe out, almost panting.
He studies my face. Then, suddenly, he lets go and takes a step back.
“What...?” I start, confused.
I want to protest. Determined, I reach for him, ready to pull him back to me, to make him forget whatever doubts are holding him back.
But Arès shakes his head and nods to the right, toward the window. I shut my mouth, understanding what he's trying to say. My gaze drops to my hands, embarrassed. I’ve never seen myself as someone immodest, but clearly, that’s exactly what I am right now. Surprising no one’s already standing outside the storefront with their phone, filming the scene.
Two fingers tilt my chin up. His eyes are soft. He leans in and brushes a quick kiss against my lips.
Then he pulls away and rushes to lock the door before hurrying back. His hands slide under my thighs, and in one swift motion, he lifts me like I weigh nothing. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. Even though the entire street could see us, he carries me through the shop into his bedroom. He kicks the door shut and sits on the chaise longue, keeping me on his lap.
“Kiss me,” he says.
The fire inside me hasn’t cooled, not after that pause. His low voice brushes against my nipples, reigniting the ache. I obey, leaning in to press my lips to his. He devours me. The intensity flares instantly—exploring hands, greedy mouths, bodies pressed too close and still not close enough. That spark builds in me until I forget where I end and he begins. We are one. One entity, a masterpiece made of skin and want.
His fingers slip under my shirt, skim my ribs, and keep rising. I grind against him, and a moan escapes me when I feel his hardness pressing against my stomach. My body reacts before my brain does, hips rolling hesitantly against him. The heat that spreads through me is exquisite.
Arès growls at the sound of my moan. He grabs my shirt and, with one rough pull, tears it apart. He breaks the kiss—his sweet taste already leaving me aching for more. I could kiss him forever, lose myself again and again in that raw passion. But he doesn’t give me the chance. His mouth trails downward and captures my nipple.
A burst of pleasure rips through me. All restraint evaporates. I grind on him, desperate, while his tongue teases and toys with me.
With a pop, he releases my throbbing nipple and locks eyes with me.
“What do you want, little bunny?” he murmurs in that gravelly voice.“You want me to make you feel good?”
His muscles tremble. His fingers dig into my hips. He’s holding himself back as much as I am. Seeing him like this, so close to unraveling because of me, makes me feel powerful.
He’s mine.
Completely mine.
“Everything,” I whisper.“I want all of you.”
“That’s what I was hoping to hear,” he replies.
With practiced ease, he pops open my jeans, unzips them, and pulls them down along with my boxers. My sweater follows. In a blink, I’m naked before him.
His hungry gaze roams over me. He devours me with his eyes as he begins undressing too.
I should feel a flicker of self-consciousness. Cross my arms over my chest, try to hide my stomach, my past. But I don’t. Not with the way he looks at me. Not when all I see in his expression is reverence. The safety he gives me makes me fearless.
With him, I’m not afraid. I’m not ashamed. And I know he’ll never push me to do something I don’t want. He is my redemption.
Arès strips off his pants and boxers in one fluid motion. Now he’s standing there, fully naked in front of me. My breath catches. He’s stunning. His body, sculpted and inked in black and white, tells a story I want to read with my hands, my lips, my whole being. I could spend hours tracing every line of ink on his skin.
