Page 111 of Pretty Wicked Secrets

“Dante.”

I whirl around, my heart beating fast in my chest and my whole body filled with the need to have him follow through on that promise.

Dante catches my eye and smirks like he knows it, then steps around me and settles onto the padded, adjustable, clinical-looking chair in the middle of the room.

“Hey, Nico,” he greets the man who walked in. “Thanks for fitting me in tonight.”

“Anytime,” Nico says, his eyes flicking my way with a questioning look as he drops onto a rolling stool and adjusts some lights.

“This is Riley. Riley, Nico,” Dante says, filling in the introductions. Then he nods toward another stool. “You wanna have a seat there, princess?”

Nico mumbles a greeting as I take a seat, then he does something to lower the back of the tattoo chair so that Dante is lying flat and starts asking him about the new ink he wants.

I’m only half listening, too absorbed in drinking in the sight of the art that’s already on Dante’s body as it moves and flexes with the subtle shifts he makes in the chair. I still want to lick it.Allof it. But then I noticed Dante tapping his chest as he discusses the new piece with Nico, his fingers skimming the empty skin right over his heart, and I’m suddenly all ears.

All ears plus a stupid surge of possessiveness.

That’smyspot.

Dante chuckles, a low, throaty rumble, and when my eyes jerk up to meet his, I see that he’s noticed.

“You wanna chime in here, princess?”

“What?” I ask, feeling like I’ve missed something.

He shrugs, the casual movement belied by the intensity of his gaze. “Since you’re the original artist and all, we gotta make sure Nico’s work meets your standards. It’s why I brought you.”

Nico snorts without looking up as he cleans and then carefully shaves Dante’s skin. “Should I be nervous?”

I doubt the lanky, heavily inked man has ever been nervous in his life.

I also have no idea what they’re talking about.

“What are you having done?” I ask, careful to stay out of Nico’s light as I roll my stool closer to see.

Nico carefully presses a translucent piece of paper over Dante’s heart, patting it into place. I can easily make out the lines traced on the other side that will transfer to his skin, and the shape of it reminds me of… flying.

It looks like a messy, chaotic bird, soaring free.

Then Nico peels the paper away and I recognize it.

A lump forms in my throat. “I made that.”

“And I’m gonna fucking keep it,” Dante says in a husky voice. “Do you remember the colors you used?”

I nod. I do. Vivid red and deep blue, lush purple and brilliant green. I’d marked him with all of them. I’dleftmy mark on him, dipping my fingers in the paint in his studio the last time we fucked. Claiming a piece of him with it.

And now Dante is making that mark permanent.

“Are you sure?” I ask as Nico gets to work.

Nico chuckles. “He better be.”

He touches the first needle to Dante’s skin, and Dante’s eyes flare with pain.

Pain… and something hotter. Something I feel too.

I can’t look away, and Dante’s eyes stay locked on mine too as the image I first smeared across his skin takes a more permanent shape under Nico’s hands.

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