Page 432 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Rick

"No, it’s not. You marked yourself, not only all over your body but also on the most important, most intimate, most sensitive to pain part of you, and I can’t understand why you did it. Why did you, Rick?" She looks up at me. "Tell me why."

"I wanted to look at it and remember you. I wanted to see myself in the mirror and see how you’d marked me forever.

Somewhere along the way, I realized how important you were, and I wanted to find a way to show it.

I needed to declare to myself that you come first. Not my ego, not my needs, but yours.

You are what matters. You were my love at first sight, at last sight, and every sight in between, and I wanted a way to show it.

I knew it wouldn’t be easy for me to tell you this, but I could do this.

I could show you I loved you, if not by words, then by my actions. "

"By tattooing the imprint of my bite marks on your cock?"

"By tattooing how much it meant to me to have your mouth on my cock. By tattooing your touch permanently into my skin. By etching into me those moments when you clung to me in ecstasy, capturing those seconds when we were one."

Her eyes dilate, and her cheeks flush deeper. She looks at me like she wants to slap me then kiss me, or both at the same time. "I can’t believe you did it and I wasn’t even aware of it."

"I marked them out with permanent ink, then went straight to a tattoo artist I trust."

“What about the ones on your back?”

“Finn helped with those.”

She seems taken aback. “So, he knows—”

“That I tattooed your marks on my skin? He didn’t ask; I didn’t tell.”

She nods slowly. "Did it hurt?" She laughs, her tone self-deprecating. "Of course, it must have hurt, especially"—she curls her fingers around my cock and all the blood in my body drains to my groin—"here."

"Not as much as it hurt me to see the shock on your face when I told you to leave."

She squeezes down, and fire zips up my spine. My cock extends, and my groin tightens. A groan rumbles up my chest but I swallow it.

She looks up and into my eyes. "I still don’t understand. Why did you do it?"

I hold her gaze. "I convinced myself I didn't deserve you, that there was someone better for you, someone who would treat you the way you deserve."

“And now?”

“Now, I know you make me a better version of myself. That I couldn’t bear to see you with anyone else. That I was yours from the moment I met you. That I’m going to spend the rest of my life making things up to you.”

I wrap my fingers over hers and swipe our joined hands to the crown then back to the root. My shaft instantly thickens.

"Oh,"—she breathes—"you’re bigger than I remember.”

“And I’m always aroused when I’m near you. And when I think of you, I can’t stop my body from reacting to how it would feel to be inside of you."

The pulse at the base of her throat tics up, and her lips part. The air around us grows dense, presses down on my chest, and pushes out the words I’ve been unable to tell her so far. "I love you, Goldie."

She swallows. "I—"

I place my fingers on her lips. "Don’t feel compelled to tell me. Don’t feel coerced into telling me those three words because I have your touch tattooed on my body."

She flicks out her tongue and licks my digit, and my heart thuds in my chest. She must notice my reaction for her eyes gleam.

"Sorry," she says in a voice that implies she isn’t.

"Also,"—she widens her gaze—"who are you and what have you done to the Stone who barely showed emotions on his face, let alone put his feelings into words? "

"I’ve had a few months to practice what I’d say when I saw you again, though"—he shuffles his feet—"I might have been coached by Edward."

"Priest?" I ask, surprised.

"He might not come across as eloquent in everyday life, but his former life as a priest qualifies him when it comes to giving life advice. More than me, at any rate."

She squeezes down on my shaft, and a growl rumbles up. "You don’t know what you’re doing to me," I say through gritted teeth.

"I think I might have an idea." She brings her other hand down to cup my balls and a shudder rips through me. "Fuck, Goldie, you’re playing havoc with my good intentions."

"Which were?"

"To take it slow with you, to show you how much I love you, to prove to you, and to me, that I’m a man worthy of you."

She looks between my eyes. "I always knew you were, but—"

"But?"

"A few reassurances might not be amiss." She bites the inside of her cheek.

"You haven’t lost your sass, hmm?"

"Never, and now that you’re here with me, it emboldens me to go toe-to-toe with you."

"Hmm…" I lower my voice to a hush. "I’ve always wanted to be a brat-tamer."

Her jaw drops. "Did you say—"

"Brat-tamer." I nod slowly. "A relationship in which the dominant partner enjoys exerting their will over their submissive and shows them why their brattiness will not be tolerated."

She swallows. "Why does that sound so hot?"

"Because you love topping from the bottom, babe. But I’m here to show you how much pleasure there is when you finally let go and let me choose how I want to pleasure you."

A shiver grips her. She tightens her hold on my dick, and with her other hand gently plays with my balls.

"Fuck," I grit my teeth. Sweat beads my forehead. "I’m trying very hard to behave."

"Maybe I don’t want you to."

"And I don’t want to, but"—I manage to pry her hand from my cock, then with a tug, ease her fingers from their grip on that other important part of me.

I bring them up, then kiss each of her knuckles—"you need time to figure things out.

You need a little space to work out if you want to be with me. "

"But I do." She tries to pull her hands away, but I shake my head.

"You think you do, but I want you to be very sure."

She begins to speak, then changes her mind. "I don’t know if I should be grateful to you or if I should jump you and insist that you fuck me right now."

Every part of my body goes on alert; all of my muscles tighten with anticipation.

Hearing that four-letter word from her mouth brings visions of how it would feel to be buried inside her, to throw her down and rut into her, to turn her over on all fours and pound into her, to take her pussy and her arse, to kiss her mouth so deeply it feels like I am swallowing her up.

To…love her with the kind of intensity she deserves, to make her come so hard she’s floating on the endorphins in her body for days. To—

"Rick?" She tugs on my fingers, and when I release her, she rises up on tip-toe and frames my face. "That look in your eyes is turning me on so much."

"Which is why you need to go to bed." I bend, grip the tops of her thighs and lift her. She wraps her legs around my waist, twines her arms about my neck, then pushes her breasts into my chest.

Without breaking the connection of our eyes, I manage to make it to her bedroom. Then, I lower her onto her bed, turn her on her side, and climb in after her. I pull the covers over us, curve my body into hers, and pull her into my chest.

"You expect me to sleep?" she asks in a small voice.

"You will sleep." I kiss the top of her hair, then settle my arm about her waist.

She drags her fingers over my hand, and her fingertips brush against the slim band at my wrist. "You’re wearing a hair-tie?"