Evan’s fingertips lay on his chest, pressing into his flesh, stretching it where needed. Or sometimes just resting, maintaining that contact as Niall was inked, a tactile reminder that he was restrained at Evan’s will as he became his art. That aroused his servant as much as anything else.
Evan took the emotional response and integrated it into his own, making it part of the work. The tattoo master who had trained him for over a decade had often used music to inspire the muse as he created on skin. Evan used the feedback from Niall’s heart, mind and soul to do the same now, following that orchestra to drive the fire in the dragon’s eyes, the defiant tilt of the head, the lifelike gleam of the scales as he mixed colors of gleaming golds and purples, blues and silver. They merged into one another like the glittering edges of an oil spill on pavement. The work was painstaking but all consuming, the tiny caps needing to be refilled often so the ink wouldn’t dry out.
If he had any doubt of Niall’s reaction to the additional claim Evan was putting on his flesh, the man’s aroused state spoke volumes. His cock was so turgid it brushed Evan’s elbow, his side. He’d stripped off his own shirt to enjoy the breeze, and feeling the damp tip of his servant’s organ sliding along his rib cage when he was leaning forward to ink him just added to the intensity of the experience. Once or twice he ran the heated side of the machine along the velvet shaft, making Niall flinch at the unexpected burn, the threat of the needle being used there. But then Evan set it aside and clasped the organ, sucking the moisture off the tip, giving him a firm lick that had Niall’s hands turning into fists again in his bonds, an oath whispering through his mind.
After Evan had completed the design around the sensitive nipple area, where the dragon’s precise claw overlapped the areola, he brought his bloodstained fingers to Niall’s lips. Niall sucked on them, taking the nourishment and what else was offered with them. Evan noted the skin was red around the nipple, but that would fade far more quickly than it would on an unmarked human.
It was done. Evan stared at the entire design for a few moments, but felt that click in his mind that told him there was nothing more needed. Tiny drops of blood beaded up on the dragon, the skin weeping. The bleed out was the necessary endstep to ensure the tattoo stayed sharp and clear. This was Niall’s blood. Evan’s had absorbed into the skin, helping the ink set, the unique scientific reaction between a third mark and his Master. He put a finger over a thicker drop and brought the small, tantalizing taste to his mouth. It had been hard work. He was hungry for his servant’s throat, but tonight he would feed Niall from his artery. His servant had earned the right to be nourished first, and a tattoo this complicated, integrated with a vampire’s blood, was akin to sustaining a wound. He would need the type of sustenance to rejuvenate only his Master could provide.
Evan stepped back, rolling his shoulders. He needed some distance from the blood or his fangs would start to lengthen. Picking up a bottle of water, he drank. It was cold. One of the wait staff must have changed it out.
Ye need to stay more alert. You’re the most unguarded vampire I know. His servant’s mindvoice was slurred, lethargic. Evan’s gut tightened, feeling a Master’s sweet satisfaction.
Think how easy it will be to stake me when you tire of my company.
Is that an option? I didnae get the memo.
Evan removed the blindfold. As he stroked his servant’s hair, Niall slowly opened his tawny eyes. The Scot might be aroused, every nerve ending alert to Evan’s demands upon his body, but emotionally he’d been spiraling on a different plane for some time. It was time to bring him back to earth.
Evan brought the bottle to Niall’s lips, cupping the back of his head. “Take a swallow, neshama.”
Niall did, throat working, and Evan touched it with lingering fingers. “You did beautifully.”
All servants learned that hazy place of patient endurance, where the body was malleable to almost anything. Niall had acquired it from diligent practice, not natural instinct, which made his threshold all the more amazing. Curving his fingers around his nape, Evan brought his lips to