Cruz (Dark and Dirty Sinners' MC #5) - Serena Akeroyd Page 0,145

finished my sandwich, I told him that, "You're right, I know what matters."

The tension that had bracketed his mouth, causing lines to form at either side of his lips lessened some.

"I know what you make me feel."

He dipped his chin, and murmured, "You were right to question, and I'll give you answers, but first, I need you to do something for me."

"What?"

"Remember those photos I showed you? I want you to freestyle one of those onto me."

I could feel my cheeks blooming with heat at the request.

The pictures of me naked, cum all over, mine and his, my eyes dazed, like they were drugged, drugged on him.

But even as embarrassment stirred, it started to fade, because I realized what he was asking of me.

"You want me to brand you?"

"Yes." Such a man of few words.

I licked my lips. "I haven't been branded yet."

He shrugged. "Consider it a leap of faith. Either way, whatever happens tonight, I will always belong to you, Indy."

Confusion hit me, moreover, concern tangled with warmth. I wanted him to belong to me, and that he was making the declaration first, considering the nature of our relationship, it meant a lot. It was more powerful than a goddamn diamond ring.

It also meant that he expected me to reject him tonight, after he made his revelations.

But I didn't say any of that, didn't voice the knotted web of emotions his words had caused. Instead, I murmured, "Let's do it now?"

He nodded, and climbed out of the booth. He laid down enough money to cover our meal, and held out his hand for me to take as I slid out to stand beside him.

"You ready?"

Such an innocuous question, but it felt like it was studded with a million landmines.

"I'm ready."

Exactly for what, I wasn't sure, but this man had liberated me, so perhaps I could do the same for him.

Cruz

When the needle hit my stomach, penetrating one of the only parts of my body that wasn't covered in ink, I didn't flinch. The pain was there, acute as always, but I liked it. I almost found solace in it.

With my hands behind my head, arms flexed at either side a little stiffly thanks to my ribs, I let her work. A part of that was hesitation over sharing the truth, but mostly, it was because she was freestyling this, and I knew she needed to at least draw the outline before I wrecked her composure.

I had plans, of that I wouldn't lie.

I'd asked her to make this a nude drawing. In the future, when we had kids, if that was even possible in tonight's aftermath, I would ask her to cover up her tits and pussy with a bikini or something.

As it stood, this was for our eyes only. A visual reminder of what I could do to her, of how I could make her feel, and the trust inherent in that.

It would run low. So that her head and shoulders, her arms too, peeked above the waistband of any pants I wore. Then, along my hip and down to my thigh, that was where all the good shit would hide behind clothing, because no one else would see her like that again if I had my way.

Unfortunately for me, few men had pasts like my own. A past that a woman like Indy might understand, but, common sense would have her running for the hills.

I wouldn't blame her if she did, if she treated me like I had the plague, and that was the God's honest truth.

I'd been living with this for what felt like a lifetime, but regrets tended to fade as regular life took over everything else.

It was dangerous to hope, and that was what she'd made me do.

I'd never walked into this relationship intending on being branded. I'd never walked into it thinking there was a potential for more.

A man like me couldn't have more.

I knew that, and was foolish to think she'd be understanding. That she'd let me have a future with her at all.

A shaky breath escaped her, and I could feel her relief and knew that the outline was done.

I trusted her though, trusted in her so I didn't even peer down to look at what she'd drawn so far.

I just cast her a glance, and watched as she turned off the ink gun, and stretched her hand.

"Cramping?"

She winced. "I think I was more stressed doing that than I was the first time I tattooed somebody." She huffed. "Why you wouldn't let