Page 17 of Four Tattoos

The others follow my lead, all four of us sampling her skin, making her quiver and moan. “If getting a tattoo was like this, I’d get one every day,” she says, her words coming out breathy and light.

When she starts to tremble, Hutch lifts her in his arms and settles her back on the bed. The four of us take up positions around her and continue what we started, using our mouths to make her moan and purr.

I catch Zipper’s eye, and together we slide her panties off of her hips and down her legs, revealing a neatly trimmed muff that makes my mouth water. Luckily, I’m faster than Zipper, and I take the opportunity to explore the new bits of her virgin skin that have just been revealed.

I skim my fingers over the delicate skin between her hips, dipping lower with each pass. Her legs are slightly parted, and I can see wetness gather at her opening in response to my actions—to all of our actions.

Sparing a moment for a glance upward, I notice that Christian and Hutch have removed her bra. Christian is nuzzling her breasts, while Hutch is kissing her in a heavy make-out session. Across from me, Zipper is stroking up and down her leg, teasing her inner thigh, and occasionally biting the softly padded flesh of her hip.

Rose begins to full on squirm beneath us, and it seems like the perfect moment to touch the sensitive spot between her legs. I don’t go right in for her clit, but instead circle it, over and over, until her hips are rocking on the bed and she breaks from Hutch to beg for release.

“Make her come,” Hutch commands, and I happily follow his order. I slide my finger down into her juices, while I touch the tip of my tongue to her clit. She bucks beneath me. I press my finger into her heat, curling it to reach the magic spot, while I flick my tongue over and over until she cries out, a high-pitched squeal coming out of her that turns my dick to stone.

Greedy to taste her, I press my mouth to her, feeling her pussy throb, getting a delicious dose of her nectar. Her orgasm stretches out for a long time, but as I realize the possibilities and start to send her over again, I’m shoved aside by Zipper, who mutters, “Move out of the fucking way,” under his breath before taking my place, diving face first between her legs.

As she starts to recover, she must sense something different, because she looks down and sees Zipper, then falls back onto the pillow with another moan. He holds her hip steady as his tongue flicks over her rosy pink sweetness, and I have the pleasure of watching her come apart again, this time at my buddy’s touch.

Her skin is glistening, and the musky, honeyed scent of her fills my nostrils as the taste of her lingers on my lips. Each of her cries of pleasure may as well be a hand gripping my cock for the way they affect me. I like watching Zipper get her off, but I have to look away after a minute, because the urge to be inside her is verging on painful.

After she reaches her peak, her cries subside into whimpers. Her chest heaves with the short breaths she’s taking, her nipples a deep, dusty pink like her namesake, hardened into tight little buds.

All four of us are watching her, and I can see looks in the other three men’s faces that reflect exactly how I’m feeling. We all want her.

When she opens her eyes, they’re no longer wide with nervousness as they’ve been most of tonight. Her lids are heavy now, drugged with pleasure. “Wow,” she repeats, but no one’s laughing now.

Hutch brushes stray tendrils of hair back from her face. “You up for more, or do you want to rest?”

With some effort, Rose rises up onto her elbows, looking around at all of us. “Aren’t we just getting started?”

13

ROSE

Wow.

There’s so much contained in that tiny little word.

I could write poetry about what these men just did to me, if my brain cells were still working properly. My mind is effectively blown, that these men—especially Mace and Zipper, who barely speak to me—just did what they did to my body.

No man—and now I realize that the “men” I’ve been with in the past have really just been boys—has ever made me come like that. I mean, sure, there are four of them, so maybe it’s unfair to compare them to my past experiences, but I don’t doubt that any one of them alone could make my body feel better than I’ve ever felt before.

They know what they’re doing; that’s for sure.

“Exactly right,” Christian says, caging me in with his arms as he bends to kiss me. “We’re just getting started.”

I reach for him, squeezing his biceps, greedily working my way up to his shoulders, sliding my hands over his chest. While everything that’s happened so far has been wonderful, I haven’t had nearly enough opportunities to touch these men, and to find out what’s hiding beneath their clothing.

As Christian kisses me, his tongue sliding over mine, I pull at the bottom of his shirt, tugging it free of his pants so that I can touch his bare skin. He’s firm, warm, and smooth, with tight abs creating intriguing ripples. He allows me to pull his shirt over his head, and I’m glad the light’s on in the room, because as much as I want to touch him, I also want to feast my eyes.

The jagged lines I’d seen peeking out above his shirts belong to an ascending phoenix whose wings span across his chest. Even though it’s rendered in black and shades of gray, it’s very vivid and lifelike, especially when the muscles in his chest flex as he holds himself above me.

“This is beautiful,” I murmur as I trace some of the lines of the wings.

“Thanks. Mace did it.”

“Only after Christian decided he couldn’t tattoo his own chest,” Mace says with laughter in his voice.

I know we’re so different, these men and me, but it’s even more obvious as all of his dark inked skin presses against my pale, unmarked body. But differences are what make the world go round, and opposites attract, and I’m so attracted.

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