The Tattoo Artist - PAPERBACK ON AMAZON!

Chapter Twenty Nine | 'Go back to the drawing board'

He just stared at me.

"Are you scared?" He asks.

"What?" I whisper, confused.

"Are you scared?"

"No, I-I'm not." I rub my nose, dropping the duvet behind me.

"Then why are you rubbing your nose?" I look down at my shaky fingers, I close my eyes and try to control them. He grabs my arms and pulls me into the shower, I close my eyes and lean into his strong hold. I feel his nose grazing the side of my head.

"Angelos, I kill for fun because I enjoy the way it makes me feel and the adrenaline that rushes through my veins. My art is murder." His lips brush against the top of my head, and the shirt slowly clings to my damp body. When I open my eyes, they connect with his green ones. "Is that going to be an issue?"

I shake my head.

He stood silent, I feel his fists wrapping around my brown hair and he pushes me against him and pulls my head back. I feel his lips touch the tip of my nose before going down to my lips. Leaving gentle kisses every few seconds.

It feels like I am dreaming.

A nightmare.

He has this way of making me feel.

His lips crash into mine. I kiss him back, and he grabs the hem of my shirt, lifts it over my head, and throws it to the ground.

He drags my legs around his hips and presses me against the icy tiles, which make me gasp in comparison to the blazing hot water. He sucks onto my nipples as he licks down my neck and approaches my breast. My fingertips run along the back of his hair as I groan quietly. "I know you want to know whose blood it is..." He

He pushes my hair back and settles me down onto the ground.

He kicks my legs apart and I already feel his dick between my legs.

My hands are resting against the tiles this time, along with the side of my face. I feel him kiss down the back of my neck, "I told you I would always protect you...even if it means a little bit of blood on my hands."

A bit? He thinks this is a bit.

Then it comes through. "Lucas." I whisper. He releases a sinister laugh to answer my question into the nape of my neck, the water dribbling down my back. "Did you kill him?"

"I tortured him, I made sure he didn't know his name by the end of it. Does that scare you?"

No.

No, it does not.

"No." I answer truthfully, he turns me around to face him.

"Good. I want to fuck you Alex," his voice was a snarl, his eyes blazing as he looked down at me. "I'm going to be rough."

"Be rough..." He picks me up, and kiss down my neck as we exit the bathroom. The bedroom door was already open, and he drops me onto the bed.

Every pretence crumble when the door is shut. The mask we put on for the rest of the world collapses, and all we want is to fuck each other's brains out. Every kiss has a raw intensity - respiration quickens, heartbeats quicken.

He tossed me onto my stomach and slid his nails down my spine, gripping my hips and pulling me up onto my knees. He slammed my face against the mattress, and I stayed my posture as he grabbed my ass, rekindling the sting of the spanking, and spread my cheeks.

His cock's head rubbed against me, not hard enough to enter, but enough to tease. I tried to push back, but he pulled me tighter and held me in place, swatting me for good measure. He entered me softly at first, just the tip, enough to make me gasp with need before he pulled out.