Old Ink (Get Ink'd #3) - Ali Lyda Page 0,66

professor that seduced you and was a manipulative bully?”

I smiled gently. “That’s the one. And it’s not that I disliked painting, I’d just gotten… burned out on it. There had been so much pressure for every painting to be something brilliant, and it became something I was doing for other people instead of for myself. Fortunately, I’m a much more confident and secure person than I was back then, and the time off has let me shed that pressure. These last couple days, it’s just been… freeing.”

Channing swallowed. “Okay. But… why this painting? Why me?”

“Ah, that’s an easier question to answer.” I cupped his cheek, staring straight into the blues that had inspired me in the first place. “When I look into your eyes, it’s like they become stories. Your eyes tell me about who you are, who you’ll be. I see myself in them, and it makes me see our future.” The ache in my chest grew, and I knew I needed to lay myself bare for him. “I love you.”

Time became syrup, sticky and slow, as Channing processed what I’d said. I hadn’t lied—I could see his reactions simply by losing myself in his eyes. And, to my great relief, I saw my love reflected there.

What I didn’t see coming was Channing launching himself into my arms, smothering my mouth with a kiss so demanding my mouth opened on instinct, allowing his tongue to sweep in, His fingers tangled in my hair and he clawed at my shoulders as if trying to climb me. I reached down and hoisted him up. His strong legs wrapped around my waist and his ankles locked at my back.

I walked forward, finding the nearest wall and pressing Channing’s back against it. Our bodies rubbed hard against each other, the friction so intense it hurt so fucking good. My tongue swept into his mouth, warring with his. My love, god, my love seemed to swell like waves, crashing into both of us, sweeping us up together.

He bit my lower lip hard enough to draw blood and my cock jumped. Channing licked it, soothing the hurt. “I need you inside of me,” he panted.

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I carried him out of the extra room and into my bedroom, throwing him on the bed. My hands went to his pants, unbuttoning them and dragging everything—pants, underwear, sock, shoes—off in one go while Channing wrestled himself out of his shirt. Then I stood back and stared at the beautiful man now sprawled, naked, on my sheets.

Channing’s skin was radiant and smooth. His cock was long and hard, so gorgeous my mouth watered.

“Take off your clothes,” he said, before taking himself in his fist and beginning to slowly stroke. “I want to see all of you.”

So I did, pulling off my t-shirt and dropping it to the floor. Channing’s gaze burned across the tattoos that covered my chest and stomach. My tattoos were mostly traditional, the Sailor Jerry types. A ship covered my stomach, birds circling above on my chest. My arms were peppered with animals in the same style. Crocodiles and roosters, swallows and tigers. Nothing original and yet every single one of them mine.

Channing looked pointedly at my crotch and a raspy laugh escaped my throat. I shed my jeans slowly, my cock springing free. It slapped at my belly and I grabbed it, stroking it in tandem with him. His stare followed me as I went to my drawer, pulling out lube and a condom.

“I know we both have...a propensity for rough,” I said. “But I’d really, really like to make love to you.”

“Fuck, yes,” Channing moaned, his back arching. “I want that, too.”

It was such a different pace, somehow feeling even more dangerous than the time we’d lost control and fucked hard in my office. But I wanted it. I wanted the danger of being in love with Channing. The rapture of his youth and beauty and vigor. It was worth any stares and judgment I might receive. It was worth the wait. He was worth it.

Setting my supplies on the nightstand by the bed, I crawled over him. The warmth of his skin was a glow that I basked in, savoring our closeness. With deliberate slowness, I bent down to lick and kiss at his neck. Channing arched his back, giving me better access. I trailed kisses down to his chest, moving to lick and bite lightly at his nipples until they became tight buds. He was writhing