Page 49 of Exile
Okay. It fucking hurts.
I already knew this of course. But nothing quite prepares you for tattooing bony spots.
I'm doing this for Damon though. If he can take a bullet for me, I can get a tiny tattoo for him.
My head flops to the side to catch sight of the paper in Theo's lap—a tiny print out of Damon's ECG results. The rhythm of his heart in black and white, proving that it was still beating. Now, it's being memorialized on my skin since my heart beats for him too.
A short while later, Theo announces that he's done, handing the paper back to me. I shove it down my bra, sneaking a quick look at the ink before fixing up my shirt.
"Can I do you now?" I ask, sitting up and stretching my arms with a small crack.
Theo nods. Except when he reaches for the other needle, I stop him. My fingers circle round his wrist, and in a somewhat awkward maneuver, I crawl along the table and sit back on my heels.
"I didn't mean tattooing," I say.
Grabbing his face in my hands, my mouth crashes into his without warning. He's ready for me though, instantly kissing me back as he loops an arm around my back.
I let out a small squeak of surprise as he pulls me off the table and into his lap, but we don't break apart. My legs dangle on either side of him, lips heatedly tracing his jawline down to his neck.
My freshly painted black nails—courtesy of Grey—match his hair, and when I dig them into his skin, there's a crash as the chair flies backwards and my back is slammed onto the table.
Strong hands remove my shorts before my brain can catch up and process the moment, and while I'm still in a static state of malfunction, Theo slaps his length against my clit.
"Fuck," I breathe out, grabbing his forearms. "Hurry up and get inside me."
I should have seen it coming. If the previous conversation wasn't an omen, the smug smirk is. Theo fists his cock, holding it steady as he slowly enters my body—then pauses.
Just the fucking tip.
"Theo," I groan, trying to seemingly scold him but it comes out desperate and breathy. "Please."
"Please, what?"
"Fuck me."
He chuckles, reaching down to draw lazy circles around my clit with his thumb. "You can beg better than that."
Part of me agrees, almost chomping at the bit to beg, cry, plead, scream… while another part, the winning bratty part, falls silent.
Two can play that game.
"No," I say sharply, rocking my hips in an attempt to sink him in deeper. "Make me."
Theo raises an eyebrow, pausing his administrations. "You want me to make you beg?"
Shrugging nonchalantly, I hold his gaze. "If you think you can."
A silence falls between us at my challenging words. Despite the calming ink depicting Damon's steady heartbeat on my torso, my own is pounding inside my chest cavity.
A groan of disappointment escapes my lips when Theo steps back, leaving me empty. That's nearly enough to make me start using my nice words, but hands grab my thighs, flipping me onto my stomach.
Theo snatches a handful of my hair, yanking my head back. My back arches with the movement, his dick pressing into my ass from behind.
"Tell me you want my cock in you, Aves. That you need it and crave it like I crave you."
My body clenches at his words, a moan slipping from my lips against my will. My resolve is crumbling, brutally being replaced by an unwavering, dying need to have him in me.
"I need you," I breathe out. I don't even have the strength to be mad at myself for caving so easily—not when this man obviously wants me as much as I do him. Together, we're a force. Without him, I don't make sense. The three of them fit my broken, jagged parts in a way that only make sense to the broken.
