Page 42 of The Tattoo Artist

“I’m just trying to help.” I speak.

“I don’t need your help anymore.” He responds.

“You need to sit down; you’ll rip your stitches.” I watch him settle down onto my chair, clearly in a lot of pain.

I grab my bedsheets, and towels that I used before shoving it into a bin bag and leaving it outside my door. I enter my bathroom and wash the blood of my hands.

The sink turning red as I look into the mirror, I wanted to call Ares.

But I didn’t want too at the same time.

Diávolos trusted me enough to come to me.

I slowly exit the bathroom and wipe my now clean hands with a towel.

I head back inside the room, standing inches away from him. Watching his every move.

He stands up suddenly, towering over me.

His fingers trail down my cheeks before he lifts my chin to look at him, his thumb gently brushes down my lip. “Diávolos.” I whisper his name.

Is he going to kiss me again?

Did I want him too?

I felt guilty, because of Ares.

This isn’t right of me, but God did it feel right.

He pulls onto my bottom lip, revealing my lower teeth. His eyes travelling all over my face, as if he’s trying to read the signs.

Our breaths mingle, and I can feel the tension building between us. Diávolos leans in, and I instinctively raise my hands to touch him. I gently lift his mask, wanting to see his lips, wanting to feel the fullness of his kiss.

His eyes never leave mine as he takes in my actions. I feel his warm hands slide to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. My heart races, and I can hear the blood pounding in my ears.

He hovers his lips over mine, teasing me with his closeness. The anticipation is almost unbearable.

Inches away from kissing me.

He’s teasing me.

His lips gently press for a moment, and then his canines grab onto my bottom lip-gently pulling it. Then his lips mould into mine, the way our lips move in sync-everything in this moment now felt right.

He grabs my cheeks, forcing my mouth open before his tongue slides inside. I moan as our tongues wrap around one another. He then begins to trail my jaw with wet kisses, he leaned in, his warm breath brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. His lips made gentle contact with the curve of my neck, and I felt a rush of excitement wash over me.

His touch was soft and tender, each kiss leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. His lips moved slowly, exploring every inch of my neck with a delicate touch. I closed my eyes, savouring the sensation as he continued his intimate caress. His hands gently cradled my face, guiding me closer to him. I could feel the beating of his heart against my chest, a rhythmic melody that mirrored the pace of my own racing heart. He pressed his lips more firmly against my skin, his teeth grazing lightly, eliciting a gasp from me. The mix of pleasure and desire was overwhelming, and I instinctively tilted my head to give him better access.

His kisses grew more passionate, each touch igniting a fire within me.

“I’m not gentle,” he murmured in a low, husky voice.

“Don’t be,” I replied, meeting his intense gaze with a mixture of desire and curiosity.

He reached behind his neck and unclasped the delicate butterfly necklace he was wearing. The piece of jewellery that had caught my eye earlier now dangled in his hand.

Without saying a word, he turned me around, and I lifted my hair to give him better access. He carefully placed the necklace around my neck, the cool metal sending shivers down my spine.

I looked down at the necklace, my fingers gently tracing the butterfly pendant. But when I turned it around, I noticed something unexpected—the word ‘Angelos’ engraved on the back.

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