She shook her head and kissed along the edge of my jaw. “You’re too pretty to be scary.”

I almost missed the content of the statement thanks to her sultry tone. “What did you just say?” I asked, hoping I hadn’t heard her right. “Did you call me ‘pretty’?”

She kissed the hollow under my ear, completely ignoring my questions. I didn’t know whether to be insulted or turned on. I didn’t have much time to decide on any one emotion, because she palmed my erection, wrapping her fingers around it. “It’s better than being adorable, isn’t it?” she asked, taunting me.

“Not really,” I groaned, unable to maintain my indignation.

With one hand braced beside my head, Tenley looked down our bodies to watch as she stroked up my shaft, twisting at the head. Her fiery gaze met mine and she slid my cock over her clit, back and forth. All I could focus on was how simultaneously close and far she was from taking me inside her. She teased the head at her entrance, wet and slick and hot, and right there.

When she shifted her hips, my cock slipped inside, up to the piercing. Her face dropped into my neck, her hot breath on my skin as her lips parted and her teeth pressed in. She moaned, the sound vibrating over my body as she rocked back slowly and took me inside. She kept up the slow descent, the sensation almost too much to handle. Her jagged fingernails dug into my shoulders.

“Tenley? Kitten?” I asked, worried about how stiff she’d gone.

I rubbed the back of her neck and tried to coax her to look at me, but she bit harder and slid down farther until her ass rested on my thighs. She stayed like that for a minute, or longer, or shorter, I had no clue; I was too wrapped up in the feel. It was different this morning, and I didn’t know why; every touch was heightened to the extreme. She released my skin from her teeth and followed with a kiss. Her pale hands splayed out over the ink covering my chest as she pushed up. She traced the designs, her fingertips trailing over my shoulders and down my arms until she reached my hands, settled on her thighs.

She rose up and gyrated as she sank back down. With each rotation of her hips, she picked up momentum, while I tried to slow her down.

“I need . . .” She laced her fingers through mine and leaned forward, pressing our twined hands against the sheets on either side of my head. I could have taken control, but I couldn’t find the will to stop her, bound by the need to give her what she wanted.

Her hair hung in a veil around us, her face inches from mine. She hovered over me, looking at me with fierce emotion. In an unexpected rush, she slammed herself back down.

“Easy,” I groaned and squeezed her fingers, pushing on her hands as she pushed back, her eyes blazing with defiance.

I wanted to know what was going on in her head, because I was all over the place with these fucking feelings. I pried my fingers free from hers and grabbed her hips before she could do it again. She strained against my hold.

With one arm wrapped tightly around her waist, I shifted under her without force or urgency, even though I felt her need for both.

“What are you trying to prove?”

“I don’t know. I need you,” she whispered.

“Its okay, kitten, I need you just as much.” I didn’t say it to make her feel better. Though it unnerved me, I meant it. I needed Tenley in the same way I needed order and routine. She had worked her way into that order, throwing my world into chaos. Everything about the life I had been living before her seemed like a wash of grays.

Her breath came fast and heavy, her body taut like stretched wire. I ran a hand up her back, willing her to relax with touch. When her tension eased, I cupped her face in my hand and kissed her, trying to keep the burning desire to devour her at bay, to show her it didn’t always have to be that way. Although most of the time it was.

My tongue met hers and she relented with a needy sigh. The last thing I wanted was for Tenley to use this—whatever it was that had exploded between us—as a punishment for herself. The connection had grown exponentially, extending far beyond my physical need for her. It felt irrevocable. If I couldn’t go back, I didn’t want her to be able to, either.

I rocked her against me, staying deep. It felt much better than the furious sex from last night. I slipped my hand between us, pressing my palm against the place where her heart beat wildly. A tremor ran through her and her breathing sped; tiny moans hummed over my lips as I increased the tempo. Tenley circled her hips, grinding hard and slow with me, until her muscles locked and her lips parted. My name came out on a whisper as she shuddered and clung to me.

When her body went limp and her breathing slowed, I flipped her over. Supporting my weight on my forearms, I stayed close, intent on seeing her. I maintained the same slow rhythm as before, the shallow thrusts more than enough. She drew her legs up, her knees hitting my elbows as she sucked in a high-pitched breath.

“Is this okay?” I asked, always worried about how fragile she was, physically and emotionally.

“Yes.” Her eyes were glassy, distant. She ran her fingers through my hair, and her heel came to rest on my ass, pushing down. “It feels good. You feel good.”

I captured her lips with mine, the kiss subdued.

“You can go harder,” she said softly against my mouth. Her voice trembled, the ripple echoing through her body.

I shook my head. The all-consuming need for her made the request difficult to deny, and it scared the shit out of me. “I want you like this.”

Her legs tightened around my waist as I continued to refuse what she pleaded for. But I couldn’t give in, because what I needed was to hold on to the connection we had for as long as possible. A flash of fire burned through me and settled in the pit of my stomach, signaling I was close. The lance of heat detonated like a bomb inside me, and I thrust into her harder than I meant to. Her limbs constricted around me.

I bit her shoulder like she’d done to me, leaving twin concave impressions I tried to kiss away. My arms burned with the strain of supporting my own weight in such a confined position. When I went to roll off, Tenley’s arms tightened around my back.

“Not yet, please.”

I hooked her leg over my hip as I rolled onto my side, taking her with me, still inside her. We stayed like that, mouths fused, hands moving over each other until her clock told me we needed to get out of bed. When I left the warmth of her body, it created a strange void that made my chest ache.

I wanted to stay in bed with her all day and keep that satiated expression on her face, but she had class and I had work.

“Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll make breakfast,” I suggested. Her hair was a wild mess. She looked like she’d stuck her finger in a light socket. It was hot, in a Tim Burton movie kind of way.

“I have a better idea.” She drew a lazy circle around my nipple, ghosting along the barbell. I tried to keep my dick from reacting but failed. “Why don’t you have a shower with me and I can help you make breakfast.”

“I like your plan better than mine.” I threw off the covers and sprang to my feet.

Taking in the lines of her body, I watched as she stretched. She was slow to get out of bed in the morning, always favoring her right leg. At first I thought I was the cause, but I realized it must be residual trauma from her accident, because after the first ten minutes the mild limp disappeared.

The shower took a long time. It wasn’t my fault, either. Tenley took great care in making sure I was clean. She paid special attention to the front of my body, particularly the groin region. I didn’t complain, and neither did my dick. Then I returned the favor, because I was all about equity.

Afterward we made pancakes. Well, I made pancakes and Tenley tried to keep TK off the counter. By the time we finished breakfast, it was almost eleven.

“I gotta get to work soon,” I said as Tenley put the last of the plates in the dishwasher and I rearranged them so she could fit more in.

Tenley glanced at the clock. “I should probably head out, too.”

“I’ll see you at six?”

“Mm-hm.” She fiddled with the collar of my shirt.

“You know, if you’re having second thoughts—”

“I’m not.”

“But if you were—”

Her eyes lifted to mine. “I want this.” The statement was loaded. She wasn’t just talking about the tattoo anymore. “I know it won’t be easy. And I don’t want . . . this . . . to stop. But you’re the only person who I trust to do this for me.” She looked at me intently. “So . . . how long will I have to wait after the first session?”

“For what?”

“For you.”

“Miss me already?” I smirked, but the twist in my gut unsettled me.

“I’m serious. How long?”

“A week, maybe a little longer. It depends on how quickly you heal.”

She tugged on my shirt and I acquiesced to her silent request, bowing my head to hers. There was nothing soft in her kiss; it was full of aggressive possession. Sometimes words were unnecessary.

* * *

My day was booked solid. It meant I didn’t have time to fixate on Tenley’s impending session or the resulting complications. I’d done enough of that over the past week anyway.

At five thirty I prepared the private studio. Once everything was set up, I pulled her file. I had modified the design to avoid the most concentrated scarring on her back. The ones on her shoulder weren’t too bad, which was good, because I couldn’t get around them. Part of the wings would inevitably cut through some of the most sensitive places. Lisa and I had a long talk about it, and she echoed my concern about how the ink would take. In the end we came to the same conclusion: Tenley wouldn’t be willing to postpone it, and I didn’t want her to go to someone else who might fuck it up.