Old Ink (Get Ink'd Book 3) - Ali Lyda

Channing

I was pretty sure the doorman chuckled as Reagan tugged me toward the elevator with a curt nod, his hand hot where it was wrapped around my wrist. The elevator trip felt excruciating in its length, and when we pinged at his floor, Reagan ushered me to his door, holding me with one arm while unlocking his front door with his free hand. As soon as we were inside, he had me pressed against the door.

"Fuck, I've missed you," I said as his lips found my neck. He kissed and bit and licked. Reagan's hand hooked under my knee, dragging my leg up. I was so fucking hard.

"I need to touch you," I said, grinding against him. "You carried me out all caveman-like. It was hot as hell."

He slid a hand between us and grabbed my cock, squeezing gently. I cried out and clung to his shoulders.

His body grew tense and Reagan hissed. "What is it you want, Channing?"

I grabbed his bearded cheeks in my hands, forcing our gazes to meet. "You. Always you. But I also want it rough tonight, Reagan. I want you to mark me, to make me yours. I want you to fuck me until I can't speak."

The blue of his eyes darkened as his pupils dilated. "You have a filthy mouth, Channing. I...I don't know, though." His voice hitched.

"Don't know what?" My heart twisted.

"I hurt you. I wasn't sure you'd ever take me back, and goddamn, I'm going to do what I can to keep you. It feels like I should worship you now. Lick every inch of you. Make love to you."

A smile softened my mouth and I caressed his cheeks. "You think fucking the hell out of me isn't also making love? Don't you get it? I love you, Reagan. And I love all of you, just like you love all of me. Can't we admit that even when we're rough, we're loving the way we want to?"

He pressed his forehead against mine. "How is it you keep being the wisest person in this relationship?"

I kissed him, small, soft pecks. Then I bit his lip. "I went away and gained experience?"

His laugh sent shivers down my spine. "Now you're going to get it, brat."

"I fucking hope so."

Reagan picked me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and kissed him while he carried me to the bedroom. He lowered me to the bed and crawled on top of me, the weight of him pressing me into the mattress. Reagan rocked into me, and I felt his cock beginning to swell in his pants.

"Get naked. Now," he said.

I moaned and writhed. "I love when you're bossy."

I obeyed, stripping off my shirt and pants in record time. He undressed as well, but slowly, letting me drink my fill of his body. It was magnificent. His thick, muscled trunk and ink-covered chest made me whimper. And his thick, long cock was jutting out, red and ready again. I wanted it inside of me, fucking the past two weeks without him out of my memory.

"Hands and knees." He watched steadily, waiting for me to comply. I did. "I'm going to spank you for all the sass, Channing. Do you want that?"

My balls were heavy as they swung between my legs and my cock twitched in anticipation. "Oh, yeah, I want it."

He moved behind me. "If it hurts too much or you need to stop for any reason, say tattoo."

That had barely sunk in before the first spank came. The sound of it cracked first and I jumped. The smarting, red-hot pain followed shortly. He wasn't fucking around. My breaths came quicker. Reagan spanked me again, his hand landing sharply on the other cheek. Even knowing it was coming, I still rocked from it, humming in a high-tense way.