Page 22 of Unravelling The Beast

"I've seen many tits; don't fucking flatter yourself."

I smirk and decide to press his buttons even more.

"Then you have no reason to stare, Arlo."

My attention wanders down his entirely inked and ripped body. His body is sculpted to perfection, like a Greek warrior and his beltless pants fall low on his hips, revealing a sexy V that leads to his manhood and the waistband of his black Calvin’s.

When my eyes return to his, he eventually breaks intense eye contact and calmly gets all of the tattoo supplies he'll need, as well as a stool.

As soon as he has all he needs, he moves in my direction before setting up beside me.

"Lie back."

I slide closer to him and lie back on his command when he suddenly wraps his big arm around my midsection, causing my stomach to somersault unexpectedly because of the sudden sink to skin contact. He drags me closer to him and then raises my arm to rest it above my head.

It's bizarre because he makes me feel uneasy around Cree, yet now that we're alone, I have no concern that my tits are entirely exposed to him when I don't even know him.

I observe as he pulls black latex gloves over his tattooed hands before wiping something cold on the skin on the side and under my right breast.

The sensation causes tingles to appear on my skin, and I'm pretty certain that my nipples have become erect, but I refrain from checking.

When he suddenly speaks, his head is down.

"Is this your first tattoo?"

When he raises his eyes to meet mine, I respond quietly.

"Yes."

“And how well do you take pain?”

He raised a perfect brow when he said that and I mimicked the movement while I responded.

"Let's not pretend you care about that, Arlo. Just don't go and tattoo a cock on me or something I might have to kill you for."

He glances down at his supplies once more.

"No fucking promises. You'll just have to trust me, won't you?"

My eyes widen as reality sets in that he can do whatever he wants right now, and I've been stupid enough to put myself in this situation.

I stare at him as he turns on the tattoo pen and dips it into the ink before placing his gloved palm firmly on my right breast. He pushes it to the side, and I have to stop myself from gathering filthy thoughts of him squeezing it.

I take a deep breath before turning away, attempting to brace myself for the potential suffering I'm about to experience. Within a few seconds, I can feel the needles penetrating my skin, and I close my eyes in an attempt to drown out the pain.

The first fifteen minutes or so were challenging, but I kept a brave face and it does get easier as time passes. When I feel ready, I begin to slowly open my eyes before I look down at him.

He looks like a typical artist working on a masterpiece and as he concentrates, his silver tongue piercingrests on his soft lips.

"Where did you learn to do this?"

He doesn't take his eyes away from what he's doing as he responds.

"I've always enjoyed drawing, but it wasn't until three years ago that I picked up a tattoo pen and began working on myself."

My brows rise up in shock.

"What? You did all of your tattoos yourself?"

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