Kiss Me

Part Eight

Walker

After that eventful breakfast we all went our separate ways and me and Marcus ended back up in our cosy room. He'd been pacing by the window for almost fifteen minutes and to be honest I didn't want to disturb him. That damn woman really got to him. Like really got right in there and scraped out the last of his humanity or something. Obviously someone like her couldn't hurt me, not in a single way but she's hurt him and by what he was saying the night before she's been doing it since he was a kid. Me and Kyle only know the Marcus of two years and the few dribs and drabs he's accidentally spilled, but nothing beyond that. Curiosity was rearing its head, yet I held my tongue and I'd let him tell me when he's ready, if he's ever ready.

So while he paced I started drawing in my sketch pad. "What are you doing!" He shouts making me drop my pencil. "Shit...sorry about that."

I smiled and picked up my pencil. "It's fine, you got a lot on your mind."

He sighed so deeply I thought he'd pass out from lack of oxygen. Then he sat in front of me in front of the cosy fire. "What are you drawing?"

"Oh….a dreamcatcher."

He leans forward. His scent went straight to my head. "Can I see?"

"Sure." And I passed him the sketch book.

"Its good...I mean, really fucking good."

"I'm an artist," I replied with a grin. "If I wasn't good at drawing I'd have no business."

Briefly Marcus held his palm to his chest, then looked up at me. "Would you….erm, tattoo this on me."

I was shocked. I thought he'd actually never ask me to tattoo anything on him. I'm not even sure if he's good with pain. But I said. "Yes...I'll gladly tattoo this on you," I paused to make sure he was serious. "By the looks of if you'd want it on your chest?" I asked, only because he'd held his palm there only moments ago.

"Yeah, my left pectoral."

"Any particular reasons why you'd want a dreamcatcher?"

His face paled a little and he passed the sketch pad back. "I suffer from nightmares sometimes."

"That's a good enough reason," he smiled. The dim lighting from the fire had small shadows casting over his gorgeous face making my heart thump like a bass drum. "When would you like it?"

"I'm not sure."

I hem hawd for a moment as my eyes fleet to my extra bag. "I have my tattoo equipment here...with me."

"So that was the extra bag?"

"Yeah, I was kinda hoping to catch you at a drunk moment so I could tattoo no man's land below your belly button with an arrow pointing to your dick."

"What?" He looked one part shocked and one part amused.

"I would say I'm kidding, but no...I really was."

"Well...you can tattoo me and I want that dreamcatcher."

"It will hurt."

"I know, I can deal with it."

"You might not."

"I definitely can."

I cocked my head. Now I was really interested. "How do you know?"

He gasped and turned away from me to stare at the orange and yellow flames dancing in the fireplace. "I'm used to pain."

"Being hurt mentally is a lot different from physical pain Marcus."

"I'm used to physical pain."

He had my full attention. "How?"

He went silent and I watched him try and figure out how he was going to explain whatever was on his mind. And I definitely wanted to hear whatever it was. "I don't want to scare you," he mumbled. "I'm not that guy anymore."

"You won't scare me, honest."

Turning to face me again, he had this look of determination on his face. Like he was determined to face any kind of demon he was keeping at bay. "I...I used to hurt people. A lot of people for my own self gratification."

"Like….S and M?" I questioned.

"I guess, yeah. I...went through a lot and I turned my pain into someone else's pain. I guess it made me feel better at the time."

"But that doesn't explain how you will handle this pain."

"I was on the receiving end for quite some time. I can handle it."

I nodded. "Alright, lay on the couch," he stared at me for a beat, then removed his top baring that beautiful body of his and I had to swallow the lump in my throat. "I'll get my bag," I stood up and took big strides across the room and picked up my tattoo travel case and went back to see Marcus laying down. Just for me...all for me. Bare and beautiful. "Shit, I'll switch the light on." He nodded and I ran across the room and flipped the lights on. I quickly gazed up to see his reflection in the ceiling mirror and my heart almost went pop. He was looking up and at me.

"Hurry up." He grins then I tore my gaze away from the mirror and moved back next to him.

"I need to set up my bits and then start drawing with a fine line pen on your skin."

"Do you not stencil?"

"Most of my work is actually freehand."

"Wow, you're that good, huh."

"I am. Just a warning though, we won't get this all done today, so I will do it in two parts, if you don't mind?"

"I don't mind." The problem, essentially, with doing this was Marcus's warmth. It came off him in waves I just couldn't ignore. And I was rock fucking hard. That was not stopping the embarrassment, though. Not least of all because I knew, deep down, that it wasn’t just about the warmth. It was about the body. Marcus's body, specifically, which included his lips. Lips plump and perfect. So I closed my eyes for a second, then started to unpack everything I needed, along with the extension lead I brought just encase, which by the way I did need. Then I turn my attention back to him. He was watching me. Eyes soft and erotic. I'm not surviving today. I'm going to need a cold shower or at least lay in the snow until my dick goes limp.

With gloved fingers I ran my hand over his pectoral, I didn't need skin on skin to know how damn good it felt. "I'll start drawing, I hope your not ticklish."

He smiled and chomped down on his bottom lip. "I'm fine," God! Either he was naturally this sexy and erotic or he was doing it deliberately. "Feels nice." He added. After I started to draw small delicate lines over his perfect skin.

I didn't look up at him. I didn't dare. Or...shit,I might kiss him and I sure as hell know he wouldn't want that. "Just lay quietly." He did. Not another single word was said between us as I marked his skin with my art. Its just, every now and then he'd hiss, not from pain because I'm using a fucking pen right now, but because I think he was enjoying it too much and I don't dare look to see if he's hard like how hard I am. So I carried on, enjoying the way he reacted. Then I thought, if he likes pain then what? Will he come in his pants once the needles break his skin? Will he moan out? God! Will he be panting all breathless begging for more? I wasn't sure how I'd react to that, if he was like that. Obviously I've had people in my chair or the leather bed that enjoyed the pain, but I didn't fancy the pants off them, so I paid no mind. Now...now in front of me I have the man of my many, many dreams, loving every second. I'm going to explode in my pants. "There, that's the main part."

He leans up on his elbows to look at my handy work. "Cool, really fucking cool."

"Great, let's start with the tattooing. Oh, do you want it to be in black and white or add color?"

"Black and whites fine. Like the roses on your hip and thigh."

I sniggered. "You had a good look then?"

"I did."

Wow, he was being extremely honest. "Alright, lay back and let's begin." Nope. I'm done in. He's definitely not a crush, not anymore. I'm fucking in love.