Page 65 of Scorching Sienna

Chapter 17

Shadow

“It’s your best work, Damon. Truly.” Trixy is standing behind Sienna, whose eyes are glued to the tattoo forever etched into her skin—a look of awe on her perfect face.

Even if she removed it, it would never truly be gone. Pieces of me would remain. That’s how I felt as the needle penetrated her skin over and over again, etching me in along with the ink, stitching pieces of me into every cell, every molecule—getting under her skin as she was under mine.

I knew it was happening, but it wasn’t until two hours and fifty-one minutes ago that I realized just how deeply ingrained she was.

As she unraveled around her own fingers, her orgasm unleashed mine, both of us shuddering at the force of the moment.

That’s when I saw it. In her eyes. Not only her feelings but a reflection of my own.

“I love you, Damon.”

The words she said last night to me when shewas drunk. Ones she didn’t remember in the morning.

It bubbled up in a moment between us at the same time. Settling into consciousness with a loud fucking thud.

Exploding from the little point of light created by Sienna since meeting her in the blackened cavity of my heart.

Sienna loves me.

I love Sienna.

I have never loved anyone before. Not even my shitty fucking parents.

Sienna was my first.

I never intended to let her go, but now, it was impossible. She was mine. Forever.

Her eyes meet mine in the mirror's reflection, their depths filled with confusion. She is perplexed about how she loves me, afraid of her feelings toward me, and scared she will get hurt.

She may. But never intentionally. Not by me. And I would never fucking leave her. Only death would achieve that, and even then. I felt tethered to her in such a way that my soul would find hers, even in the afterlife.

“Time for yours,” Trixy says, pulling herself away from Sienna to join me by the tattoo table Sienna had been on just minutes before. Where she had come. Where I had watched her unfurl and release, the orgasm a cathartic experience for her, especially after The Reaping.

Sienna's gaze flits between looking at the tattoo and then at me, a flush creeping up her chest as she watches me remove my shirt. Her eyes drag across my torso, and I can see its effect on her in the mirror's reflection. Her nipples harden under the baby blue material of that sexy little two-piece she is wearing. My cock stiffens, knowing how perfect the flesh feels in my hands—made for me like a fingerprint.

“You guys need to get a room. But first, let's get you branded. Thisis a big deal, Damon. I never thought I would see the day.”

Trixy’s words cause Sienna to break her gaze first as she grabs her T-shirt and pulls it over her head.

“What are you getting?” Sienna asks, her eyes landing on the only spot of skin available on my chest, purposefully left blank. I thought I would never find the perfect piece to sit over a heart so dark—until she, the final piece of a puzzle etched into the canvas of my skin, came along.

“Ohhh. Let's leave that as a surprise. Don’t you think, Damon?” Trixy’s voice is mischievous, and Sienna tilts her head to the side curiously before wandering over to the other tattoo bed and taking a seat in the swivel chair in front of it.

She isn’t ready to see her name on my body. She isn’t ready to tell me she loves me. Only then will she understand this.

I climb onto the bed, lying back and tilting my head to the side to watch my girl.

Trixy makes small talk with her while she works her magic on me, the pain from the needle piercing my skin almost immediately morphing into pleasure. It is a fine line. But all addictions are. Just like the one I am staring at right now. My rainbow with red hair piled on the top of her head while some strands spill over her shoulders and green eyes locked on a tattoo on my bicep—a motorbike mounted by a skeleton. A ghost rider bar the flames. A shrine to the only person I considered family. Nicolo Scarva.

Her eyes meet with mine, and I wait for her to ask.

“Does that tattoo have a special meaning?”

I consider what I should say. She wants to get to know me, and while I don’t think the past is relevant, it’s clear she does. The hurt look on her face earlier when I said as much was not missed. She thinks I don’t trust her when it’s not about that.

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