Page 64 of Wicked Devotions

“A strap mostly but a couple stab wounds, too.”

“Oh my gosh.” She sits up and looks down at me in the dim light. “How?”

“The strap is a family thing. It’s not so much used as punishment as it is for training. The stab wounds were from someone I thought was a friend, but obviously wasn’t.” I don’t want to go into details with her about my family, I just wanted her to know she’s not alone. “Covering them in tattoos felt like taking back control from them.”

“Can I see?”

I sit up and turn my back to her, pulling my hair up on top of my head. She probably can’t see that well with only moonlight and the small night light plugged in near the stairs providing light. Her fingers trace over the tough, uneven scars from the countless lashes I was the recipient of. The stab wounds are low on the left side of my back, luckily the blade didn’t hit anything important, I just had to get a blood transfusion.

“I’ve thought about getting a tattoo, but I’m not sure I can think of something big enough to cover all the burns.”

“I’m sure if we sat down long enough, we could come up with something.”

“Would you draw the design?”

“I’d be honored,” I say honestly. “Trusting someone to put their art on your body permanently is incredibly humbling. But you’d have to let me see them if we do that,” I add to lighten the mood.

She bites her lip and looks away for a moment. Just when I’m about to either apologize or make another joke, she reaches down and grabs the hem of her shirt. Before I can even comprehend what’s happening, she’s sitting topless in my bed.

Fuck.

Don’t get hard. Don’t get hard. Don’t get hard.

I repeat the chant like an inner monologue as I force my eyes away from the way her full tits hang from her chest in perfect teardrop shapes. I definitely don’t want to notice how her nipples are the same exact shade of dusky pink that her lips are. It for sure doesn’t take inhuman effort to lower my eyes to her ribs.

But as soon as I do, a red haze lowers over my field of vision. Just as I thought, dozens of burns mar her body. Rage wells up just beneath the surface as I struggle to hold my feelings in check.

“Can I touch them?” I ask once I manage to get my anger under control.

“Yeah.” She nods and watches as my fingertips move from one to another, ghosting along her skin.

“You could do something with a fine line design, maybe flowers or leaves on a branch or vine.”

“Each scar could be a flower or a bud. I like that. It’s poignant.”

I wrap my palm around her ribs, my thumb brushing the underside of her breast. I pull my hand back, not meaning to get so close, but she grabs it and puts it back.

“Don’t stop.”

“Harper,” I say her name with a pained hesitancy. I don’t want to stop, and I’m not sure that Ican keep going. There just needs to be a conversation with all of us before things go too far without us all knowing we’re on the same page.

“Please,” she whispers. “I love when you touch me.”

Damn.

I’m a strong man but not strong enough to say no to that confession. We move toward each other at the same time, our lips meeting in a soft caress. I lean back against the headboard and pull her onto my lap. Her tiny shorts sit high up on her legs exposing her soft thighs.

Tiny moans escape her as my lips move from her mouth down her neck. Her pulse flutters beneath kisses as her head falls back, giving me all the access I could ever want to her beautiful neck and décolletage. I palm both of her tits, each more than a handful and so fucking soft. My dick pulses beneath her pussy, and I know she feels it because her hips rock against me.

She might be a virgin, but it feels like our bodies know one another. She grinds against me so naturally, like we were made to be the perfect counterbalance to each other. I just want more. I want everything.

I want to feel her cunt stretched around me. Iwant to feel my cock slide against Emerson’s while we worship at the altar of her body together. My fingers pinch and toy with her nipples until they’re hardened tips. Her back arches when I run my tongue piercing in a circle over one of the stiff peaks.

“If you like that, wait until I’m eating your pussy.”

Her eyes sparkle with curiosity until I move my hand down and slip my fingers under the hem of her shorts, teasing along the seam of her panties. Her lips cover mine again as she chases each movement I make. I can feel how wet she is seeping through the cotton barrier between us.

“Take these off.” I pull on her shorts and panties.

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