Page 105 of Deceptive Desires
Roman
I stare at my sunshine’s sleeping form as we travel back to Boston on a private jet. We’re in the bedroom at the back for privacy. The crew has strict instructions not to interrupt us.
I told her I hadn’t drugged her at the club. And it was true. I hadn’t drugged her yet.
But now I have.
She wouldn’t have come willingly, and if I had spent another second in that Godforsaken town, I would’ve been tempted to put a bullet in my brain. She needs to be in our home, in our bed, with me.
And I need her unconscious as I take a few safety precautions for her.
I roll her onto her back and gently move her hair off her neck. I feel around, trying to find the right spot. When I do, I open an antiseptic wipe and clean the area. I uncap the needle containing the high-tech tracker and inspect it. It’s not as large as I thought it’d be, so it shouldn’t hurt too much. But I didn’twant her awake for the pain or the pain that’s to come. Also, I need her still.
I pinch her neck and insert the tracker at the base of her skull. Once it’s inserted, I wipe away the drop of blood and look at my handy work. You’d never even know it’s there.
And now she’ll never be able to disappear on me again.
Next, I lift the bottom of her shirt, revealing her lower back. I glare at the high-rise jeans she’s wearing in disgust. My Cecilia would never wear denim. She’d be in a flowy skirt or linen pants. Or even yoga pants.
I shimmy them lower until they sit at the top of her luscious ass.
Then I pick up the tattoo gun and get to work.
I smile when it’s done, pleased with my art.
I’ve carved this so many times, I could do it in my sleep. But tattooing it, engraving it into my sunshine, it’s almost sensual.
TheRFMtramp stamp looking up at me brings the biggest smile to my face.
Now, the world will know she’s mine.
But there’s one more thing I need to do to avoid any possible misunderstanding.
I grab her left hand and glare at her empty ring finger. This won’t fucking do. It should always show our union. Just like her back will.
I turn the gun back on and tattoo a small ring around the base of her finger. A wedding band. It’s thin enough that when she chooses to wear her ring, it’ll cover the tattoo, but it’s thick enough to send the message.
That she’s taken.
By me.
I lift my own left hand and tattoo a band around mine. It’s obnoxiously thick, but the world needs to know. Plus, wearing a ring in my line of business could get messy.
I eye myself, wondering where I can carry her name permanently. There isn’t much bare skin left, and I need it to stand out. Since from my neck down to my fingers and to my ankles is covered in ink, I have to get creative.
On my left thumb, between knuckles, I tattooSunshine. It looks poorly done, but I’m simply content to wear her mark.
On my left pointer finger, I tattooCecilia. Needing her branded on me.
On my left middle finger, I tattoo in all capitals,HUSBAND. Now there’s no room for confusion.
My ring finger has my band, which is all it needs.
Then on the pinkie, I tattoo her name again, just to double down on it.
I look down at it with a smile. I love her claim on me, even if she doesn’t know about it yet.
On my right hand, I tattoo one word per finger, starting with the pinkie and ending with the thumb.
