Questions burned on her face as I kept her silent. My cock throbbed as thick desire threaded through my blood. Having her stare at me with such longing and passion almost destroyed my plans, demanding I slide inside her.
“Yes, I want to remain married, esclave.” Letting her mouth go, I murmured, “But rings can come off…just like I’ve shown.”
Her cheeks blanched. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
Her eyes flashed with small threat of rivalry. She didn’t say a word as I ripped open an antiseptic wipe and smeared it over her ring finger, making sure to wash away my saliva.
Tossing away the finished rag, I grabbed the surgical needle and tore open its sterilized packaging before inserting it into the tattoo gun as I’d been shown. Louis had given me the supplies when I’d popped in to see him last month to update a few feathers on my chest. He’d worked on my torso piece for months. Multiple visits. Long, painful hours while he engraved and coloured my skin with the redemption of my life. Every pinprick of the needle gave me value for the women I'd rescued, fixating my anger onto the fucking cocksuckers who’d stolen them.
Louis had become a friend even though we never spoke about anything beyond trivial things.
Tess whispered, “The last time I was tattooed, I made the choice to add 58 to my wrist. The first time, the trafficker took away my choice with a barcode, and now, you’re going to make that choice on your own.”
I froze.
Shit, I hadn’t thought of it that way. I hadn’t asked her permission. Stupidly, I thought she’d find the notion romantic. She’d let me brand her, after all. This was nothing compared to that.
Tess flinched as my eyes fell to the modified barcode and sparrow on her wrist. Compared to Louis’s mastery, the artwork was juvenile. One day, I’d have it lasered off, and if she wanted it redrawn, I’d gladly let Louis replicate the design. Then again, the thought of anyone going near her with sharp needles threatened to send me into a blood rage.
No one else was allowed to hurt her.
Only me.
There I went again, taking control of her body and skin. Something that was hers to ink, not mine.
My shoulders fell. “I don’t—”
Her free hand clutched my wrist tightly. “No, I want you to. It’s a full circle, Q. Don’t you see? I was tattooed to find you, tattooed after I lost you, and now, not only do I belong to you and you to me, but you’re the one who will do it.”
My heart fucking squeezed. “You don’t mind my scrawl?”
She smiled. “Your penmanship is impeccable. I wouldn’t trust anyone else.” Her spread leg pressed against mine in a blatant show of acceptance. “On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“I get to do the same to you.”
A mark for a mark.
A brand for a brand.
I fisted the gun. “That was already part of my terms.”
“Oh, right.” A devious smirk twisted her lips. “I forgot because some torturer didn’t let me come and my brain is broken.”
“You behave and I’ll let you come. Deal?”
“Deal.” She stretched in her bindings. “By all means, maître, tattoo away.”
I didn’t say anything, mentally preparing for the skin graffiti I’d grace her with. I already knew what I’d write. I just hoped I could pull it off so it didn’t look like a four-year-old did it.
Tapping the ink vial, I made sure the gun was operational. “Are you ready to become my canvas, esclave?”
“Only if you’ll let me come once you’ve finished your needlepoint.” Her lips stole into a cheeky smirk. “And then I’ll tattoo you. I’m shaking too much to be of use in my current state.”
I pinched her. “You know demands will get you more punishment than reward.”
She smiled wider. “Perhaps that’s what I’m after. Especially if it’s delivered with that wand you brought.”
My eyes narrowed as I spread her hand over my jean-clad thigh. “Anything can be arranged for you.”
Sighing into my control, her hair fanned in messy plaits with a blonde halo. Closing her eyes, she took away the pressure and let me focus.
Bending over her finger, I turned on the gun.
It hummed like the magic wand but at a much lower frequency.
Tess kept her eyes closed but whispered, “Why exactly are you doing this?”
“I’m making it permanent.”
“We are permanent.”
“I want to see it.”
“See what?”
I pointed at her wedding finger. “Jewelry can come off, Tess. I want a reminder of the truth just for us beneath the gild of diamonds and gold. I want our vows on my body until I’m ash and bone. I want our promise to seep into your blood and taint your soul.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “That’s already happened. You own me completely. A tattoo won’t change that.”
“It will.”
“How?”
“It will be the final reminder that we belong. Together.”
And no matter what our future holds, no matter what we earn and what we lose in our lifetime together, that’s all that fucking matters.
Tess tensed, her mouth hanging open as realization hit. “You want to write Je suis à toi on my finger.” I’m yours.
I smiled. “Oui.”
Her body melted into the bedding. “Why didn’t you say that? I would never have argued. It’s perfect.”