She started to move her hips again. Fuck, she had this little seductive move where she would start moving at her upper stomach, almost like she was belly dancing. Only she was making that wicked move with my thickness inside her. As she sheathed me, the space began to fill up. The fuller I got, the better it felt.
"Oh, yes," she whispered.
She shut her eyes and lowered her head. Her hair tickled at my face. I inhaled the smell of her hair as my hands came up her body some more. I cupped her breasts with both hands, feeling the hard nubs of her nipples against the palms of my hands.
She was bucking her hips at me, groaning, but I could feel that she was tired. I had kept her up too late and loved her too hard. But I wasn't done with her just yet.
Not a chance in hell.
I slipped my hand around to her lower back and held tight. I then sat up, easing the burden of fucking me off Lacey. We sat there for a few seconds, staring at each other, breathing heavy. She reached up and touched my face, digging her fingers into the scruff on my face.
"River … oh, fuck, River … "
"I know, darlin'," I whispered. "Trust me, I know."
The mix of pleasure and romance was sometimes hard to understand. We had both become accustomed to looking over our shoulders for the next wave to hit. But for tonight, it was just us.
I put Lacey on her back and my hands to the bed. I stared at her beautiful body as I loved her. I thrust deep and slow inside her, feeling every inch within her as she felt every inch of me. She arched her back and groaned. I kissed her breasts, my tongue flicking against her nipples, my teeth teasing her.
When she came, her back crashed to the bed, and she grabbed the sheets, lifting her hips off the bed for me. I didn't let up, though. I kept loving her, fucking her, feeling her. The sounds in my bedroom were the best I'd ever heard. Lacey gave me a sense of home that no apartment, house, mansion, or city could ever do. All I needed was her.
I let that thought ring through my head.
All I needed was her.
"River!" she cried out as her back arched again.
I wrapped my arms tight around her and pulled her tight against me.
I thrust my body as I kissed her neck and stopped at her ear.
"I'm right here, darling. And I'm not fucking going anywhere … "
I kept one earbud in as I listened to music. My right ear was exposed to the beautiful buzz of the needle as it worked fast, depositing ink into the calf of guy named Petey. He was getting a tattoo of two dogs-a Jack Russell and a German Shepard. They were his two dogs when he'd been a kid, and he wanted them on his leg. If it meant a lot to him, it sure as hell meant a lot to me.
The thing about tattooing was that time had no bearing on it. Time seemed to vanish for me while I worked. And the only time that did pass was when I was with Lacey. I would only stop tattooing to give the person some relief. I let them be the judge as to when to stop, keep going, or make another appointment. As for me, I could just keep going forever.
Lucky for Petey, this was his second sitting, and I was done.
I wiped his leg down of the leftover ink, then admired what I had created.
"Big and small," I said with a nod.
"And here's the thing," Petey said in a rough voice. "The little one was the bastard. She was the one who would bite, fight, all that. If the doorbell rang, she ran to the door. The big guy would hide under the table or under my bed."
I laughed. "That's pretty funny. No dog now, though?"
"Nah. Not a good time in my life. But this … " Petey strained so he could see his calf. "This is fucking amazing, River. Your work is … "
"Thank you," I said. "Let's get you patched up and out of here." I nodded to his fully tattooed arms. "I assume I don't have to tell you what to do to take care of that."
"Yeah, I'm good," Petey said with a laugh.
He sat up, and we shook hands. He left some cash on my counter and went out front to pay. I cleaned up my room and stretched my neck and back. He was the last tattoo of the day. I looked at the clock and knew Lacey still had some left in her work day. She was at Axel's mother's house. He still hadn't told the rest of the guys that his mother was dying. Hell, he didn't even talk to me about it. Lacey mentioned that she feared he was in some kind of denial about it, constantly asking her when his mother was going to get better. I offered to talk to him, but Lacey told me not to do that.
So I held back.
I went out to the front of the shop and found Tate and Maddox standing at the window.