Page 61 of Unearthed Dreams
The next few seconds stretched on for hours, for days, for eons. I tracked each deliberate step he took toward me—the way his brow furrowed, his eyes darkened, the bulge in his pants grew.
Suddenly, his dark black boots peeking out beneath frayed denim were toe-to-toe with my peep-toe kitten heels.
“Lie down.”
It was almost as if I had no control over my body.
My eyes fixed on the ceiling, cataloging each dip and groove in the plaster as I tried to ignore the sounds of rustling clothing and belt buckles clanging on the floor.
“Seems like you’re breathing awful hard, pretty girl. You okay?”
“Mhm. Yep. Fine,” I squeaked.
“Good.”
I braced myself—not sure what for, but I did. The first sensation to hit me wasn’t what I’d expected, despite not knowing what to expect. His hands were warm—steady, sure, but not rushing. Like he had all the time in the world to learn me.
His fingers traced along my collarbone before hooking in the neckline of my dress. With agonizing slowness, he pulled the fabric down, watching intently as my breasts spilled from the cups of my bra. The cool air pebbled my skin as his heated gaze raked over me.
“Beautiful,” he breathed, before leaning down to press reverent kisses across the swell of my breasts. Each touch of his lips sent sparks shooting down my spine.
Then came that strange feeling. The drag. The pressure. Deliberate. A beat behind the pulse pounding in my ears.
I felt it before I saw it—a cool drag along the curve of my breast. My breath hitched, body already wound tight from the tension of the night.
I thought it was his finger at first, but there was a strange, slow pressure behind it. Not painful. Just... intentional.
“What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just kept going, tracingsomething along my skin like he was signing his name on me. When I looked down, I saw it. Red ink in gentle curves. A word? A mark? I couldn’t tell.
“A pen?” I asked, a startled laugh caught in my throat.
“It’s not permanent,” he murmured, mouth grazing the edge of my jaw. “But you’ll remember it.”
I shivered. It wasn’t the ink—it was the fact that he could make me feel claimed with something so simple. So soft. My skin burned beneath the lines, like it knew he’d touched something deeper than the surface.
He admired his work, and I swore I saw pride in his eyes. Like I was his blank page, and he was just getting started.
Chapter Twenty-Two
KAI
The red wordbloomed against the pale skin of her glorious tits, and something primal stirred in my chest at seeing my marks on her.
Beautiful.
The word sat perfectly curved along the swell of her right breast, where her heart thundered beneath my touch. The neckline of her dress hung loose around her shoulders where I’d pulled it down, her breasts barely contained by delicate lace.
She shivered as I chose the next spot, just below her collarbone.
Smart.
My hand steadied her when she trembled, overwhelmed by the cool drag of the pen. I eased the dress further down her arms, letting it pool at her waist.
Creative.
This one I wrote lower, trailing down her sternum between the cups of her bra. Her breathing grew shallow, chest risingand falling rapidly as I worked. The trust in her eyes nearly undid me as I reached behind her to unhook the lace, letting it fall away.
