Page 7 of The Apprentice
He grabbed my face between his large hands and slammed his mouth against mine. I gasped into his rough kiss, and he shoved his tongue between my lips, tasting me in a way that I could only describe as starving. Only I could sate his desires.
I moaned into the hard press of his mouth and sucked on his tongue. My eyes slipped closed and I curled my arms around his broad shoulders, dragging him closer to me until we were chest to chest. The strong leather smell of his cologne tickled my nose, and I couldn’t get enough. Everything about him was an addiction, and I was his faithful junkie.
“Strip, then get me naked, boy,” he growled into my ear between the kisses he trailed over my cheek and down my jaw.
I groaned and got rid of my suit as quickly as I could. There wasn’t any finesse to the way I ripped my clothes off, too impatient about getting my hands on him. As soon as I was bare, my fingers went to the top button of his dress shirt, tugging atit desperately. One button after another slipped through their holes, revealing inked skin to my ravenous gaze. My mouth watered as the tattoos he hid beneath his clothes came into view.
With a shirt on, Daire was stunning, a man who looked put together and responsible. Without a shirt, though, Daire was a force to be reckoned with.
Weaving ink stretched across his chest, down his arms, and over his back. Celtic markings he’d chosen purposely for one reason or another told stories in the form of black lines, joined together by body art. The tattoos were all expertly hidden beneath his clothes, and nearly everyone—except me—was completely unaware of them. This was one secret that Daire allowed me to know.
Fuck, he was always so fucking beautiful. I remembered the first time I’d seen them, back when I was about nineteen or so. Daire had taken a long vacation for five months, and while I’d never asked where he’d gone, Sloan had him on a secret assignment. When he’d come back, the moment we were alone, I’d practically mauled him.
Eight Years Ago
Getting Daire out of his suit had been my main priority. I wasgreedyfor him, and my hole ached with emptiness. Five months was way too long, and I needed him to fuck me until I saw stars.
But the moment I got him out of his suit, I froze. The entirety of his chest was no longer a blank canvas for my teeth and tongue to map. No. Now his skin was inked from his stomach to his collarbones to his arms.
The tattoos were numerous and didn’t have an ounce of bright color but were artfully done. Celtic knots intertwinedtheir way across his skin like maps, and they were joined by shamrocks, guns, two dogs that looked a lot like Dobermans on either side of his ribs, and in the center of his chest was the claddagh symbol—a heart with a crown and two hands reaching for it. The claddagh represented love, loyalty, and friendship, and the design of the ink left me breathless.
“You have tattoos,” I stated rather obviously. “When did you get tattoos? You didn’t have them before you left.”
Daire glanced down at his chest in surprise, as if realizing they were there for the first time, and I chuckled. When he looked up at me again, he smiled. “I got one about a week after I went on vacation.”
Vacation?I snorted.
“It was a random thing.” He twisted his body, muscles rippling with the movement, and he tapped a heart-shaped Celtic knot on his hip.
I ate up the sight of the inked flesh. The last time I’d gotten a shirtless view of Daire like this, he had fucked me into the bed before he left.
“I developed a taste for tattoos.” He shrugged. “I ended up doing my entire chest, arms, and back. I made sure the suit could cover it because Sloan isn’t a fan of them, as you know.”
I reached out a hand carefully, as though I was about to touch a wild animal. His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t move. My fingers gently trailed over his chest.
“Can I see your back? Please?” My voice was barely audible in the silence, but it was loud enough that I could hear it tremble.
“You’re the future of the Company. You don’t need to ask.” He tilted his chin.
“I’m not going to order you,Daddy. You’re not a regular soldier. You’re our second-in-command. So, I’m asking you. Can I see it?”
I was close enough that I could feel his breath tickle my cheek. I should back away and let him fuck me like every other time.
Emotionless.
Hungry.
Desperate.
I couldn’t make my limbs move. When Daire slowly turned, I devoured him with my eyes, taking in every line of ink that covered his upper body. The artwork was flawless, and the knots fit him perfectly, especially the claddagh symbol across his chest.
But the tattoos on his back were even more spectacular, making me suck in a surprised breath. Across the expanse of his shoulders and down his spine was a magnificent Celtic cross with the triquetra—the trinity knot—embedded into the weaving lines. Around the cross were more intricate images, including one that looked like a tear in his skin, showing off the back of his ribs and heart.
I wanted to ask him what each one meant, but I couldn’t string two words together. My tongue felt heavy, and all I could do was reach out and trace the lines in Daire’s cross, my heart thumping painfully in my throat. I caressed along the black knots, and he tensed, muscles going hard under my touch. The air in the room thickened, and I found it hard to breathe. I licked my dry lips and scratched my fingers over warm skin.
A shudder went through him, and I froze, terrified that I would scare him off, which was crazy because he was no wuss. Except, when it came to me, Daire seemed to shy away like he was allergic. Our interactions were push and pull, and it was beginning to make a nervous energy rise inside me.
Regardless of the tension, I didn’t move away. I stroked across his shoulders, my fingers shaking. I took deep breaths, calming my racing heart. My stomach turned to knots similar to the complex ones in his tattoos. I bit down hard on my bottomlip to stop myself from doing something stupid—like laying my mouth on Daire’s back in an intimate kiss instead.
