Page 90 of His Innocent Muse

She’s quick to comply, gripping the arms tightly.

I grab the tools and materials I need and quickly arrange them on the desk in front of her.

After I’m done, I snap my fingers in front of her face again, watching as she climbs back into her skin.

“Better.” I tap the tat gun. “There’s no turning back once this is on, Lucy.”

She meets my gaze and leans forward. “Good. I don’t want a life without you. Whatever’s next, I want to be here to fight it with you. Or you know. Behind you, but here, while it’s—mmf!”

I descend on her, kissing her deeply, doing my best to pour all my emotions through the contact alone. When I pull back—her eyes open slowly, a happy smile curling her mouth—I know I’ll never be able to do that.

“I love you, Firefly,” I whisper, and she sucks in a breath, biting her tongue.

Her eyes shine as she smiles wider. “I love you, too…Sir.”

Just like it always does, her use of the title centers me, and I run my thumb over her lip before leaning away. “Shall we?”

She nods and slowly pushes the bodice of her dress down until both breasts pop free.

Fuck, I’ll never get tired of her body. It’s all I can do not to grope her.

“Over my heart, right?”

“Mmhmm. Just like mine.” I begin prepping her skin, and she clears her throat.

“Would it ruin the symbolism to add your name?”

I almost drop the needles, bracing on the desk to hide my tremor of excitement.

“No, my pet,” I croon in a deep purr, relishing the way her nipples harden, and loving every goosebump that pops up on her skin. “Is that what you want? My name, marking you as my property?”

She writhes in her seat, clenching her knees together as she forces out a harsh, whispered, “God yes, Sir. Please.”

“Mm. I can’t deny you anything when you ask so nicely. Alright. Hold very still, now.”

Her hands wrap around the armrests, tendons jumping as she grips.

The gun hums to life, and when the needle hits, she only flinches a little.

“Such a brave little thing. But tell me if it starts to hurt too much, and we’ll take a break.”

“Okay, okay yes, Sir.”

She doesn’t. In fact, she seems to be in a bit of a trance as she watches me. I do the Saint Family brand first, making her cross less thick than ours, but still prominent, and theSslightly more stylized. It doesn’t take much longer to scrawl my name in cursive underneath, framing the cross with theGand theT.

When I lean back and turn off the gun, she hums a long note, dazed.

“I bet you’re even hot when you vacuum.”

Laughter barks out before I can stop it.

“Who says I do my own cleaning?” I smirk and cup her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. A bit sore, I think. It’s kind of numb. Can I see it?”

I grab the mirror Eustice keeps in her top drawer and hand it over.

Bracing for Lucy’s reaction is a waste of energy, it turns out. She gasps, covering her mouth as a tear slips down her cheek.

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