Page 94 of Moth to a Flame

“I’m sor—”

“Quiet.” His hand slices through the air. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. Don’t you dare tell me about the laser treatments and how you tried. Any excuse you make, you make for him, and that’s not happening. I won’t have it.”

“Then?”

“Stay where you are.”

My nipples harden at his command. His cock jerks when I do as he says, yet instead of touching me, he drags the things he’s brought over toward us.

We’re silent as he shoves his sweats down. He’s gone commando today, and my mouth waters for him. For his throbbing cock and leaking head. Landon acts as though he isn’t hard, pushes his dick down, and sterilizes the area above the base.

None of us utters a single word as he cuts through the duct tape and rips the box open. I’m the most curious I’ve ever been, and I lean forward to see what’s in it.

“It’s ready to use. I made sure of that.” A tattoo gun. Holy shit. “Let’s start. You and me. Give me your hand.”

“You didn’t tell me you knew how to use this.” I offer my hand to him. “I…I don’t know how. I’ll mess it up.”

“You could never. Here, let me show you. Hold still.” The tattoo machine vibrates once he’s turned it on, and he aims it at the area he had wiped clean.

The gun buzzes in our grip.

I can hardly breathe.

Landon cuts his eyes to mine. “We’re going to tattoo your initials on me, Regan.”

“There?” My voice shakes. I refuse to let my hand tremble, holding on to Landon for dear life. “Landon…”

“Right fucking there,” he grits out. “In capital letters. You’re going to help me tattoo RS on the base of my cock.”

My jaw drops when I realize what RS stands for. “Regan Sterling?”

“These are your initials, so yes.” Possessiveness turns his features sharp, and his gaze unhinged. “You will be my wife. You will take my name. Next week, no matter what happens, I’m marrying you.”

A volcano erupts from somewhere deep within me. Lava washes over my body. Fire burns inside me. But they don’t ruin anything.

They build me back up.

I’m alive, a phoenix rising from the ashes.

I was raped and tortured and mutilated. I’d spent years being buried under the memories of the worst night of my life.

I’m not there anymore. I let someone else love me. I let myself love him back.

I’m going to be that someone’s wife.

“Do I have a say in this?” I’m toying with him. Of course, the answer is yes.

“As I mentioned.” He drags the tattoo machine closer to his body. “I’m not opposed to binding you and forcing you. So no, you do not get a say in this, wife. Fucking mark me, Regan Sterling. Do it now.”

Regan Sterling. Regan Sterling. Regan Sterling.

His.

He instructs me on how to do it. Puts the pads next to me for when he’ll bleed.

Together, with the sound of the gun and my labored breaths as our soundtrack, we write RS on the base of his cock. Landon is a strong, resilient man who stays put the entire time. It has to hurt. I have no doubt it’s painful as fuck.

Yet he’s there, still as a statue. For me.

---