“Let those wrinkles fade from your face, Little Witch. It’s gonna be alright. Stop worryin’ about things, and just get to work.”
Taking in a deep breath, Violet smiled at him as she realized what was happening. This thing between them... sure, it wasn’t sex, but she could touch him. This was... progress, in a way.
Get to work. She could do that.
She could do this.
Chapter 11
Thestrangepartabouttattooing her soulmate wasn’t the fact that she was finally able to touch him, her hand splayed out on his chest as she worked. It wasn’t the way he chuckled as he watched her work, and asked her idle questions about meaningless, random things. It wasn’t even about how intimate it was, being so close to him with no one around and no interruptions.
No, the strange part was how fucking turned on she was.
She had heard of other people getting turned on while receiving a tattoo, how people got off on the adrenaline, and how even some people had sex after, either with the partner they brought with them or the artist. It was a crazy concept to her, over the years, because she had never found any attraction to her clients, nor to the artists who had inked her own skin.
A tattoo, to her, was about self expression, and wearing what you felt, and putting art onto skin and making it mean something. There was an intimacy to it, sure, but it was neither sexual nor romantic. It was a trusting relationship, in her eyes, that she was being entrusted to put something important onto another person, a trust that she could never break.
But right now, she was so fucking turned on, she was losing any sense of self awareness.
Every movement she made had her nipples aching and her clit throbbing, almost to the point of being painful. And what was worse, Henrik was aware of it... and showing his own response. Not long after she had started with the outlines, he had needed to shift his pants a little. Hours later, and her work almost done, they were both shifting, both reaching a point of being uncomfortable. His hands were no longer reaching up to brush her side or her hips, as he had before she started this process, and were instead gripped together at his sides.
She had no such ability to stop touching him, given how she was working on his skin.
He was breathing hard, and his eyes kept closing, but she knew it wasn’t a response to pain. It was lust, want, need, all rolled up into their supernatural connection that was demanding they consummate their bond.
Only, somehow, she knew that would be a step too far. It would be crossing a line. Crossing into a territory where she lost all control.
Particularly since, when he eventually had his hands on her, she intended on losing all control.
Her hands felt sweaty in her gloves, but she tried her best to ignore it, knowing she couldn’t take them off. The gloves were what allowed contact with him, to be able to feel his heart beating underneath her fingertips, so she had to push on, ignoring her desires.
But fuck, her desires were starting to overwhelm her. She needed him, desperately. Needed to touch him, to kiss him, to rub herself against him. Forget being a wolf and a witch—she felt like a cat in heat, ready to rub herself against his body and spread her scent all over him.
She was losing her fucking mind, and the only way to regain it was to be with him.
“Almost done,” she murmured, ignoring the pain she felt at the thought. What would happen, once she was finished? Would that be it? Their little experiment done? Where would they go next? What would they do next?
“Good.” His voice was deep, deeper than normal, and his chest vibrated under her fingertips. She wanted to soak it in, to rest her head on his chest and to feel it underneath her ear, to feel his heart beating in his chest against her cheek. He could put his shirt back on, let her rest there for a while...
Oh. She wasn’t almost done. She was done.
Setting down the tattoo gun, she blinked and stared at the completed piece. It matched her own, the purples and reds and yellows and whites all a match to her own skin. She had used essentially the same art she had drawn for her own tattoo, except better made for his chest than her arm. If they stood side by side, they would be a near perfect match.
He was marked with her personal flower, her name, right over his heart. Her soulmate... her love.
“I never gave up on us, all those years,” Henrik murmured. “I knew I would find you one day. Knew we would be together. What I said, it was a lie. And while we were gone, I spent my time trying to become better than I ever was. I studied things, did schoolin’, worked out. I wanted to be better than everyone else. I wanted to be the best. Wanted to be able to take care of you. I picked up skills and trades that didn’t make no sense, just so that I could build you your dreams. Learned all about plants too, so I could grow everythin’ you ever used.”
“Henrik, I didn’t... I didn’t do any of that. I never... I mean, I hoped—“
“Little Witch, I never expected you to keep faith in us. That was never your role. Your role was to be strong and to wait for me to find you, and I did. And now that we’re together again, it’s my job to not give up on us, and to urge you to try again. To urge you to work on it. I spent our time apart workin’ on me. Now it’s time to work on you.”
He didn’t need to say what exactly it was time for her to work on. She already knew. Knew what was holding them back.
She was a witch without any control over her magic. A witch that set fire to everything around her. With no control, and no ability, she wasn’t even a useful witch. Just a problem. A disaster waiting to happen. A liability.
He wanted to change that, thought it was possible to fix her problems.
And it all started here, with him trusting her, with only a thin layer between them.