Page 66 of Cedar Edge
“Pull it out.” He snaps.
I bat my eye lashes up at him smiling sweetly, “Yes sir.”
Ace grabs my hair, yanking my head back and leaning down close. I wince at the pain. He doesn’t let up though, he only smiles, a cruel kind that means I’m in for a world of hurt. “You just had to be a brat today didn’t you, princess?”
He releases me roughly and raises an eyebrow before dropping his gaze down to his tented jeans. I take the hint and scramble to pull him free. I can’t say that all cocks are beautiful, because honestly, they aren’t. But Ace, with his pretty little piercings, has a fucking beautiful cock. One that I love to suck and get fucked by.
He presses the head to my lips, the metal already warm and salty from the precum leaking from the tip. “You tap my leg three times if you need to stop.” I want to roll my eyes but I understand why he checks in. Same reason Law does. So I nod as I slowly stick my tongue out and lick over his head.
He groans before he’s pushing into my mouth all the way. The intrusion is hard and unforgiving as he holds my head and uses my mouth for his own pleasure. Tears well in my eyes and I gag when he hits the back of my throat. He smirks, doing it again. “I love when you cry with my cock shoved down your throat.”
My own dick presses painfully hard into my pants. The tip already wet and soaking through the fabric. I don’t reach for it though, knowing full well if I do he’ll edge me until the very end of time. No, when Ace is like this I’m nothing but a hole for him to use and if I’m a good princess for him he’ll let me cum.
And I fucking love him for that.
“Fuck Lo you’re to damn good at this. Fucking slutty princess.” I keep my eyes locked on his, and I know he’s getting closer to the edge far quicker than he normally does. “Fuck fuck fuck!” He growls and I have the first taste of his cum splash across my tongue. He pulls free of me, yanking my face back again and lets the rest of his release paint me.
His breathing is ragged and when his cock finally goes limp he stumbles back from me, tucking his well used cock into his pants. I however remain in my kneeling position, painted in his cum, with a raging hard on.
Ace leans down close to me, inspecting the mess he left behind. “Clean yourself up and make sure that Thea gets a taste of what I left behind.”
Thea clears her throat and I shift myself awkwardly trying to hide the raging hard on I have now. But in her next words my lust is cooled instantaneously.
“I want you to erase what he did to me. I want you to turn it into something beautiful so that every time I look at my body, I can remember that even in a thicket, a beautiful rose can bloom.” Her hand raises to the spot on her stomach, the one she’s so fucking self conscious about.
My mouth goes dry and my heart drops to my stomach. Tattooing underneath the breasts and on the rib cage is painful already, for most people, add to the fact that I’m gonna be tattooing over freshly scarred skin. I dragged my hand through my hair, kneading the back of my neck as I watch her. “That’s gonna feel like shit, Thea. You sure you want the first place that I put my ink on you to be in a spot that raw?”
Determination flares into those golden orbs. “ Logan.” She says my name in a way that has me practically melting into the ground. If it wasn’t for this chair, I may very well have collapsed.“With all due respect I’ve been through hell, and if I can have my flesh melted off of me, I can have you tattoo me. I need this. I need to change the narrative.”
Understanding washes over me at the same time a dark idea forms in my mind. One that is a huge fucking gamble and if she, Law or Ace, ever find out I took it may very well be a nail in my coffin. But it’s a gamble I have to take. Because I won’t lose her again,can’tlose her again. So I nod, pushing back up off the chair. “All right, let’s do this pretty girl.”
Thea
It takes Logan 30 minutes to reset his station where the big biker had just sat, at one point he disappeared into the back for a bit before carting out ink I had never seen him use before. I also note the change in atmosphere after he returned from the back. Unlike when the shop is normally open, now the music choice has shifted, and the lyrics drift over me in a soothing balm. The lights have dimmed, minus the ring lights above the space he works, and I smile at the twinkling string of fairy lights I had never noticed before.
“I must be really special if you are turning on the fairy lights.” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
His green eyes seem to twinkle in the lights and fill with warmth. “You are the most special person I could be tattooing.” My cheeks flush and I feel myself fidget. “Are you ready to take the dress off?” He asks me softly.
I give a quick nod and slowly drag the material up my body. Anxiety clause at my chest immediately as I stand in the overly bright lights and only my bra and panties. But the heat flares and Logan‘s eyes keep me steady and grounded. He pats the table,the contact paper that he has laying down crinkling under his palm. My bare feet move on autopilot as I position my body on the table. My eyes snag on the ceiling that’s painted in a crisp dark green.
“We can stop anytime you need to.” he says, with the utmost professionalism in his voice. I’ve listened to him give this spiel a dozen different times now, but this feels more personal. “We don’t have to do all of this at once. I’ll do a small spot first and if you change your mind, that’s OK. I won’t be upset.”
I shake my head, I understand where he’s coming from, but it does nothing to tamper the irritation. “I need this Logan. I need to know that this is my body and not his.” He seems to search my face for a moment before he nods and pulls on his gloves. Nerves skitter up my spine as he begins getting the gun ready with the ink. “Aren’t you supposed to put a stencil on me?” I say it with a laugh, but I think he hears the nerves behind my tone.
“For you Tink? Nah, I want this to be 100% original.” He turns back to me holding the gun ready. I don’t say anything, can’t say anything, and instead just look up towards the ceiling.
He reads my silence well. The gun clicks on and immediately the buzzing wraps around the lyrics in the song. His hand presses down on my rib cage, his thumb brushing the underside of the brand. When the needle hits my skin, I bite down on my lip. He doesn’t ask if I’m OK, not yet anyways. The drag across my skin of that needle burns and my mind flares to memories past.
“Breathe Thea.” Logan murmurs. His voice is enough to remind me where I am, and when I drag in a deep breath, his scent and the scent of his shop grounds me into this moment.
What started as an unsettling burn shifts the longer that needle drives into my skin. The pain transforms into a calming euphoria. As though the gun is exorcising the demons that the brand locked into my body.
I focus on the movement of Logan‘s body over my own, of the feel of that needle driving into my skin over and over and over again. It’s similar to the same feeling that driving a razor blade across my skin gives me. Yes it hurts, but in a delicious, soothing way. And yet when I’m done with this I know that instead of shame I’m going to feel a little bit more healed.
I might’ve just found my new addiction.
I let out a small giggle, and I feel Logan’s eyes jerk to mine. “Is this why you have so many?” I ask with a husk to my voice. He raises his eyebrow with the question written all over his face. “It feels good.”
