Page 41 of Forgotten Deeds

Secretly beaming, I continue my exploration of his ink. “What do these mean?” I run my nails lightly over the small tattoos on his ribcage—canine teeth; three of them.

“For all the times I’ve escaped death by the skin of my teeth.” He playfully snaps his teeth at me before running them down the column of my neck.

“I need to take a shower, then check on Iris,” I warn him, my skin breaking out in goosebumps.

“No shower.”

“Why?” I look pointedly to the mess leaking down my inner thigh.

Shocking me, he gathers his cum and pushes it back inside me with his finger. “Because I want my cum dripping from your pussy for the rest of the day. I want every man on this ship smelling who you belong to.”

“You’re crazy,” I tell him, shaking my head with a little laugh.

“When it comes to you? You have no idea.” He hops up, rifling through his bag.

“What are you doing?” I wonder.

Taking a seat beside me, Darius grabs my left hand—snatching the mood ring off my finger. My eyebrow arched, he reaches behind my ear and pulls out a diamond ring. “Trade me,” he says, sliding on a large, but not too ostentatious diamond ring. “Halo diamond for my little angel.”

“Darius, it’s beautiful,” I say, my heart feeling like it’s going to burst from happiness. Holding up my hand, I admire the lovely double-band ring. “But I want to keep the mood ring,” I admit.

He smiles, slipping it on my right finger, and we watch the stone change from black to purple. “Ahh. Wifey just needed a good fucking to get rid of the tension.”

I duck my head in embarrassment, but he lifts it with a finger underneath my chin. “You will be a thoroughly fucked woman from here on out. Get used to it.” He presses his lips to mine, cementing that promise with a passionate kiss.

“I need to get a ring for you,” I say a bit breathlessly when he pulls back.

“Nah, I’ll get my ring finger tatted when we get back home.” Hearing him say that makes me so damn happy for some reason.

“Iris is going to ask about my new ring,” I warn him, turning it back and forth, fascinated by how it sparkles in the light.

“Handle it however you think best,” he tells me.

“Okay,” I say, blowing out a breath. “Let’s just tell her.”

He grins from ear to ear. “Whatever you say.”

I purse my lips. “You don’t have to look so smug about it.” Grabbing his wrist, I bring my lips to his forearm, placing a sweet kiss on his newly-inked skin before climbing out of bed.

“I mean it—do not clean up that pussy,” he warns me.

“Fine,” I tell him. “But next time, I want Diávolos’ cum dripping from my pussy.”

His nostrils flare as I smile, walking to the bathroom. Looking at myself in the mirror, he was right—a thoroughly fucked woman’s reflection gazes back at me. An unfamiliar sight; Harrison was an extremely selfish lover, and that’s putting it mildly.

“What did I tell you?” Darius says, now standing behind me at the sink.

“I didn’t clean up my pussy; your cum’s still inside me,” I protest.

“About you thinking too much.” He squats down, holding out my bikini bottom, and I step into it. Next, he helps me fasten my bikini top, and pulls my coverup over my head. “Take a break for the rest of the day, and let’s hit the beach.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ve made some really great progress on my essay. Two more solid days and I should be able to knock it out.”

“Good.”

My hair is absolutely wild, and I grab my brush, but to my surprise, Darius snatches it out of my hand. He begins brushing my long locks, gently working out the tangles. Placing the brush on the counter, he wraps his big arms around me.

I smile at him in the mirror, leaning back against his hard chest. For something that started out so wrong, this is starting to feel so damn right.

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