Page 21 of Unravelling The Beast

He releases a tense breath, then glances forward once more.

"Get the fuck out, Wren."

"Will you ink me?"

"No!"

"Why not?"

He suddenly stands and storms toward me, and before I know it, he is completely in my space, towering over me and roaring his deep, powerful voice at me.

"Because I fucking said so, now get the fuck out!"

His tone irritates me to no end and I scowl at him.

"You know what, Arlo? You can be a real fucking asshole."

His crazed eyes lock on mine as he snatches my face, pinching my cheeks hard and yanking me closer to him before speaking aggressively through tight teeth.

"That big smarmy mouth of yours will land you in big fucking trouble one day if you're not careful."

When he releases me, he forcefully pushes my face back, and I stagger until I find myself falling back onto his soft bed.

"Remove your fucking top."

As I stroke my hurting cheeks, I take deep breaths in response to the rage that has just erupted within me.

When I’ve gathered myself, I look at him, confused at what the hell he is asking me.

"Excuse me?"

"You want a fucking tattoo, don’t you?"

"You didn't even ask what I wanted!"

“That’s because I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to your body if you want me to fucking tattoo it.”

My eyebrows rise in surprise and I scoff.

“On my fucking tits?”

He calmly presses his hands into his pants pockets, undoubtedly losing patience with me.

"Remove your fucking top or get the fuck out of my bedroom."

We exchange grave stares and I honestly don't know what to do at that moment. I mean, people walk into tattoo parlors daily and get their tits, pussy, and even their assholes tattooed, so isn’t this the same kind of thing?

After some thought, I purse my lips and roll my eyes in defeat before holding the hem of my crop top in my hands and swiftly pulling it over my head until my big, bare breasts bounce out.

I calmly toss it onto his bedroom floor before leaning back on my hands and returning my eyes to him. Of course, he is checking out my tits, but I'm a confident woman. I like my tits. I have nothing to be ashamed of; they are perky and a very decent size.

I raise an eyebrow as I watch a dark storm brewing in his already gloomy eyes, and I can tell he clearly didn't expect me to do it.

I decide to awaken him from his aroused stupor and speak with allure dripping from my tongue.

"Stop staring."

His wicked eyes collide with mine and lock before he responds brusquely.

---