Page 26 of Never Too Late for Love
Bob barely felt the needle, more feeling Cris’ fingers cupped around the back of his neck, his mouth pressed to Bob’s ear.
With his other hand, Cris took pictures and video with his phone.
It was over almost before it had started. Bob was reluctant to sit up, because his erection screamed for relief. Cris stepped around to the foot of the table to go over care instructions with the artist. Then the man left, pulling a curtain around the table to give them privacy.
Bob rolled onto his right side, trying to stay off the tattoo, which put his back facing the front of the building.
Cris grabbed a handful of his hair and whispered, “Stay.”
Then he leaned in and sucked Bob off.
Bob didn’t even try to hold back. The only thing he tried to do was not make noise. He was so fucking horny from the pain, and blissfully deep in subspace, had Cris tried to fuck him right then he might have allowed it just to get relief.
When Bob finished, Cris straightened, whipped out his own cock, and quickly face-fucked his orgasm down Bob’s throat. Cris fell still when he finished, holding Bob’s head in place, Cris’ thumbs caressing Bob’s cheeks.
“Mine,” Cris whispered down at him. “Always and forever.”
“Yours, Sir,” he mumbled around Cris’ cock, his soul feeling light and free.
* * * *
Cris helped Bob onto his feet and couldn’t help smiling about his boy’s subspacey expression.
He now understood this was what had amused Landry so much that evening so many years earlier.
The love.
The pride, knowing Bob had trusted him so much to allow a permanent mark be placed there.
Possessive.
And the kinky thrill of checking “tattoo parlor” off their bucket list of sexual locations.
Although now Cris had earned a second check mark there.
Cris took him out to dinner to a French place he hadn’t been in far too long. In this the ritual differed, because Landry had taken Cris out to a Thai restaurant they enjoyed that had sat three doors down from the artist’s previous studio. Which was how they’d found the tattoo artist in the first place.
Cris wasn’t going to take things to that extent.
Besides, this was for him and Bob. Something that wastheirs.
They found Landry and Tilly chilling on the sofa when they returned home a little before eleven that evening. KC had already been put to bed for the night, and Landry smiled as they entered the living room.
“Well? Let’s see.”
Bob set his laptop case in the chair, unfastened his slacks, turned, and pulled them and his briefs down to show them.
“Nice,” Landry said. “A matching set.”
Cris studied Tilly’s face. He wasn’t sure he didn’t see a little flash of something that disappeared just as quickly before she smiled. “Very nice.”
“And after?” Landry asked, grinning.
Cris nodded. “Continued the tradition. Or made it a tradition. Or…something.”
“What?” Tilly asked.
Landry kissed her. “They blew each other right there,” Landry said. “Because if Bob felt a fraction as horny as Cris did after he got his, it would have been cruel to make him wait for relief.”
