“Where is the tattoo going to be?” I sat down in the chair.
“Same place as mine.”
I glanced down at my right arm. “Can I see the design?”
“No.”
And then my world went dark as he placed a blindfold over my eyes.
“Castello, what are you doing? I want to see the design before it gets inked.”
“You said you trusted me, little mouse.”
“Yes, but this is different.”
“How is this any different?” He placed his hand on my shoulder.
“It just is.”
Suddenly his warm breath wafted over the skin of my neck. “Do not take off the blindfold until Joey is done. Is that clear?”
I swallowed hard. I knew it was no use trying to fight him on this—on anything, actually.
Soft fingers traced along my jaw and under my chin. “You belong to me, and so does your body, little mouse.”
I remained silent, and for the first time in probably two hours, so was Joey.
Castello’s touch was gone, and then I felt the razor slide across my skin. Shivers ran down my spine, and my muscles clenched tight in protest. But the more I felt the sharp edge of the razor, the more I relaxed—the more I wanted to feel it pierce through the first layer of skin. I tried to envision through the blackness what it looked like, what Castello was feeling as he watched Joey prepare my skin. Did he feel the same way I did? Did he long to see me bleed? Of course he did. It was something he never tried to hide, the way he yearned to see the crimson liquid of my soul.
“Ready?” Joey’s voice cracked through my thoughts.
I stiffened before biting my bottom lip.
“Trust me, little mouse.” The sound of his voice was bewitching, soothing, and I found comfort in his words.
“Yes.”
And then the buzzing vibrated through the air just before I felt the burn on my skin. I flinched, and the pain intensified, lingering as Joey moved the needle. It was only when I tasted blood that I realized I had bitten my bottom lip. A hand cupped my chin, pulling my face up. I knew it was him. I knew it by the way my skin burned under his touch. No other man was able to electrify my body with one single, simple touch. He placed his thumb on my lip, over the spot that was bleeding, and then his hand was gone. An image of him sucking my blood off his thumb filled my mind, and what felt like an electric current shocked through my spine, crashing between my legs.
The fact that I had my sense of sight taken from me made me feel the pain even more. I could feel the blood seep through the holes the needle pierced in my skin. I could hear and feel my skin crack, ink staining my body. But as the needle continued its onslaught, the pain slowly started to fade, and I wished it wouldn’t. I liked the pain. It made me feel alive.
Joey wiped across my arm every few seconds, and knowing Castello was looking, that he was witnessing my blood seeping from my body, thrilled me. My muscles were no longer strained because of uncertainty, because I didn’t know what to expect. They were strained because my gut was filled to the brim with anticipation, thinking about how much Castello had to like the sight of me now. Bleeding, being marked, and trusting him completely.
The more I sat there, feeling the sharp sting of the needle, the more I started to embrace the pain, adrenaline running wildly through my veins.
I clenched my thighs together, my body aching in the most inappropriate way. But I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop my need from rising to new heights as my skin got marked.
“Almost done,” Joey said softly.
I felt Castello place his palm at the back of my head. “You’re doing great, little mouse.”
Nervous excitement spread through my gut, adrenaline bursting through my veins. I wanted to see it. I wanted to see the design Castello had chosen for me, for him.
I clutched my belly with my other hand. I knew there was a lot of controversy about pregnant women getting tattoos, but in the end, it all depended on whether it was a trustworthy artist. And the way I knew Castello, Joey wouldn’t be anything less than one hundred percent trustworthy.
The buzzing stopped, and after hours of listening to the sound, the silence felt odd, out of place. My skin was burning as if it had been held above the flame of a candle for too long. But the pain didn’t make me anxious; it didn’t cause my mind to flip thinking of nothing else but a way to find relief from the burn. I liked it. But then again, I’d known for a long time I was different, that my mind was different than others.
A strong yet gentle hand took ahold of my elbow and helped me off the chair. With the blindfold still secure, my skin soaked up the intensity of his touch. My body would recognize Castello’s touch within a split second. No other man had the power to burn my soul while my body never felt more alive.