Saved by the Dark Page 15

  “What has y’all cackling like a pack of hyenas on a hunt?” A man wearing a Dark Sons leather cut stepped out from behind the curtained area in the back and turned down the music slightly. He had long, light-brown hair pulled back from his face in a ponytail. Unlike the Brothers Pixie had met he was well defined, but not bulky. His deep Texas accent had her picturing him with a cowboy hat selling out concerts while he strummed a guitar and sang about heartbreak.

  As he came closer, she noticed among his many tattoos, he had a wolf head on his arm which was so realistic she swore it would turn and growl at her.

  “My woman was just proving how the mighty Rangers can fall. Pixie, this is Ink. He was in Hannibal’s Ranger squad and is the sadistic fucker who will hopefully be finishing my dragon today.”

  Deciding to make the gag complete she smiled and ran over to Ink, giving him a hug around the waist. “Ink! So great to meet you. I love your work!”

  Remembering Sharp’s earlier comments, she made sure to wiggle her ass a bit as added distraction. She started to lift Ink’s wallet, but it was clipped to his jeans by a long-linked chain. It took an extra second to remove the clip from the wallet to one of his belt loops. She kept the pressure of her hug on the outsides of his hips to pull his focus. The long leather cut was perfect camouflage to her motions.

  “She’s adorable, Sharp. How did you ever get her to wear your patch?”

  Pixie smiled up at Ink and made her way back to Sharp, hiding the wallet in the folds of her skirt.

  “You won’t think she’s so cute when she picks your pockets clean,” Hannibal joked, as he re-holstered his gun and fastened his watch back on.

  Ink burst out laughing. “You lost your watch to a light finger, that is priceless.” The Texan gave Pixie a wink. “I would be happy to let you put your hands in my pockets anytime.”

  Pixie held his wallet up behind Sharp’s back, twisting it so Hannibal could see what she had.

  Her new Cajun friend smiled. “You’re so sure she can’t get your wallet? Let’s bet. If she lifts your wallet, you do one of the tattoos she won from me. She doesn’t, I buy you a steak dinner.”

  Everyone in the shop was quiet, half of them able to see the wallet in Pixie’s hand, the others probably wanting to see if she could do it again. Pixie did her best to look interested in the proposition instead of guilty. She studied Ink’s body, pretending to look for valuables.

  “You’re on. But I’m no fool. I keep my shit locked tight.” He rattled the chain on his belt that used to be attached to his wallet. Luckily since she had clipped the other end to a belt loop, he didn’t realize he’d already been played.

  His arrogance made Pixie a little greedy and she narrowed her eyes. “Increased difficulty—I think I should get two tattoos.”

  Sharp looked down at her. “For a girl with virgin skin, you have big plans.”

  Pixie had no idea what else she would get but with two world class artists she was sure she would think of something. “I’ve always loved beautiful art.”

  “You got a deal, darlin’.” Ink hooked his thumbs in his pockets, smiling. Everyone in the shop who knew she had the wallet burst out laughing. Even Pixie couldn’t help but add her giggles. The tattoo artist narrowed his eyes and reached behind him. The look of shock on his face had her laughing so hard she had to lean on Sharp.

  She pulled herself together and tossed Ink his wallet with a wink.

  “Son of a bitch!” Ink slapped the wallet against his thigh.

  Chapter 24

  I am responsible for what I say, not what you understand.

  Two hours later Ink was deep into work on coloring Sharp’s tattoo and Pixie was face down on Hannibal’s chair with all the other artists hard at work around them. The man was a crazy good artist. He had spent over an hour drawing up a fairy pixie wearing a black leather cut like her own. He had sized it perfectly to fit on her shoulder, and used a cool machine to make a stencil he then transferred onto her right shoulder blade. They would have to wait on the other shoulder blade until the stitches she had in it were completely healed. He had asked if she wanted to wait on the other as well since she still had very light-yellow bruising, but she had told him she was fine.

  Pixie gripped the edge of the chair, trying to contain her nervous energy. Hannibal patted her hand with his latex-covered one as he set up his supplies. “Don’t you worry, cher. This is going to hurt, but we’ll take as many breaks as you need.”

  Pixie wasn’t worried about the pain. She was more concerned about what he would think if it was obvious she enjoyed it. So far she and Sharp seemed to match in their sexual needs but he hadn’t seen the full scope of the darkness she felt inside her. But she had hope. It was the Cajun’s reaction that gave her pause. What did she know about Hannibal? He had been a good sport earlier and he must have seen plenty of different reactions to pain from people in his chair.

  A conversation she had with Val earlier in the week bubbled up in her mind. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  “Sure.”

  She lowered her voice a bit, figuring with the music and the other people talking no one would overhear. “Is it true you like needle play?”

  Hannibal paused in his preparations, his eyes twinkling. “Sharp tell you that to scare you?”

  “He wouldn’t do something like that.”

  Hannibal studied her face and she wondered what he saw there. “Yes, cher, with a willing woman. But you won the bet remember?”

  “But are you a sadist?”

  Heat flared in his gaze and Pixie tingled in response. “That too, but don’t worry your little head. I won’t make this hurt any more than it has to.”

  She wanted to tell him she would be okay; nothing could compare to the pain she had endured for much less pleasant reasons. But why ruin a fun afternoon with drama? She just said, “Okay,” before turning her head back to face towards Sharp.

  He gave her an encouraging smile. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  The buzzing sound of the needle was immediately followed by lightning zipping across her nerves. She stifled a moan as the pain washed over her and, like always, slipped right into pleasure. It was a torturous dance that Hannibal began. The needle would snap her alive, making her hyper aware of every part of her body, then he would pause and wipe the ink away and endorphins would flood her system, pushing her closer to orgasm.

  She wondered if Hannibal noticed or if he was caught up in his own art, oblivious to the effect he was having on her. Pixie didn’t dare look at the man holding the tattoo gun but from the heat in Sharp’s gaze every time she opened her eyes, he at least could tell how worked up she was. She hoped the desire in his eyes meant he knew she wasn’t thinking about anyone but him as she slowly grew more and more turned on.

  Pixie lost herself in sensation. Her nipples tight underneath her added their own pleasure every time she rocked when Hannibal wiped away ink. The feel of her satin underwear against her swollen pussy was its own form of teasing; she didn’t dare move or she would push right over the edge into a screaming orgasm.

  The waves of pain and pleasure crested and fell until they seemed to merge. She tried to breathe, tried to hold back, but after what seemed like an eternity, she didn’t think she could hold back much longer.

  “Thank Christ I’m done,” Ink muttered to Sharp, as he cleaned off the last bit of the Dragon. “Do you have any idea what kind of torture it is bending over your ugly chest with my dick as hard as fucking steel?”

  Sharp understood exactly what he meant. For the past two hours, without a break, he had listened to his woman’s tiny whimpers and moans as Hannibal worked some kind of voodoo magic on her back. From the knowing glances and smiles of every man and woman in the place, they were aware his baby was deeply enjoying her first tattoo. It seemed as if she didn’t just like pain in the bedroom, and boy was that going to make life fun.

  The sounds she was making – and the fact every man here envied the shit o
ut of him right now – had his own cock pressing uncomfortably against his zipper.

  “You could have warned us she was a pain slut. Would have set up in the back and let you give her a break once in a while. Hannibal has got to be in heaven right now and I barely got to enjoy the show.”

  “I didn’t know. But when she comes back for the color, I’m bringing a gag and we can give you guys a real show. You’ll have to bring your own hands-on entertainment, though. I don’t share like you fuckers.”

  “Damn, shame that. But we have Didi coming in fifteen and the way Hannibal’s riled up that woman is in for a treat.”

  The two men chuckled, and Ink snapped a picture of his finished chest piece while Sharp took a moment to admire the outcome. It had taken three sessions to finish, but the dragon was a masterpiece. Ink put cream over the tattoo and taped on a bandage.

  “I need a break.” Pixie’s voice sounded panicked, snapping Sharp’s attention back to his woman.

  “We need five more minutes to finish the outline, cher.”

  “I’m sorry, I’ve got to–” Pixie rolled off the chair, barely catching her top from exposing her to the room. She stumbled a bit and started sprinting towards the back of the shop.

  Sharp stepped out into her path to catch her, determined to find out what went wrong. She slammed into his chest and he caught her as a familiar cry of pleasure ripped out of her throat and visible tremors ran through her body.

  All the blood in his body raced straight to his cock as he watched Pixie, lost in her orgasm, standing in the middle of Dark Ink. Her lips were parted, eyes half closed, and her head was thrown back so he could see every emotion as it passed over her face.

  “Holy shit, did she just come?”

  Sharp didn’t know who asked the question, but he needed to take care of his baby right now. He looked over to Ink and said, “We’ll be in the back.”

  The man smiled and nodded.

  “Lucky fucking bastard.” Sharp recognized Hannibal’s deep voice and agreed with him. He scooped up Pixie into his arms and headed into the curtained area at the back of the shop.

  There were three stations in the back of the shop designed to offer privacy for shy customers or the more intimate tattoos and piercing. A few of his Brothers swore that there was nothing in the world better than getting a blowjob while getting a tattoo and the happy perverts who worked here had no problems with it at long as you could hold still.

  Sharp sat Pixie on the edge of the first chair he came to and took her mouth with his own. Hours of her small moans tormenting him and the show she put on had him nearly wild with the need to fuck her.

  Her hands gripped his bare arms with a need which was almost as desperate as his. Pixie’s sundress was pooled around her waist, exposing her beautiful tits. He had to taste them, so he took one in a rough hand and the other he sucked into his mouth, enjoying the feel of the pert little nipple as it brushed over his tongue.

  Pixie’s body shook with another orgasm. “Please, Sharp, I need you to fuck me!”

  Sharp had no intention of rushing this, though he feared his control might not last. He nipped at her breast, occasionally biting her nipples, reveling in her whimpers. He held her knees apart so she couldn’t find the release she wanted.

  “Shh, darlin’, I’ll give you my cock but only when I have had my fill of this body. Do you have any idea how sexy it was to hear your little moans as he ran that needle over your skin? How much I wanted to come over and stick my hand up your skirt and see how wet your little pussy was. If I had sunk my fingers inside you, would your hungry little cunt have clenched around them, begging for me to make you come?”

  “Yes. Please, I feel so empty.”

  The curtain swayed closed around Hannibal and Ink as they led Didi, their regular fuckbuddy, into the back private area stopping just across from where they were. Sharp ran his hand up Pixie’s thigh, brushing against the damp fabric of her panties. He leaned in, brushing his lips against her ear. “See how fucking hot you made them both. They can’t wait even a minute to get a woman between them.”

  Pixie thought she was going to combust; the two orgasms she’d had barely touching the edge of the need she felt. She watched as Hannibal grabbed the woman’s dress by the hem and practically ripped the dress over her head. Pixie was fascinated by the different tattoos that entwined the woman’s body.

  Sharp’s fingers wrapped around her panties and she gasped as the soaked fabric pulled away from her aching pussy as he dropped them to the ground.

  “See how they’re watching you? They may have Didi between them, but their cocks are hard for you.”

  The side view Pixie had of the three was perfect. Hannibal and Ink had the now naked woman between them. She had their dicks in her hands and was stroking them both slowly as the threesome watched her. Sharp ran a thumb over her clit, sending shivers up her back.

  “Turn over. I want them to see your beautiful tits while I taste your gorgeous pussy.”

  It was exciting and surreal. Pixie stood and bent over the tattoo chair, bracing on her elbows so her breasts hung down. She watched as Hannibal swiveled the chair across from them and bent Didi into the same position she was in. Then he placed his cock in front of her mouth and the woman began licking and sucking him, all while his eyes were focused on Pixie.

  Cool air blew against her pussy as Sharp held her open, his tongue lapping at her folds in teasing strokes. Pixie wanted him inside her so badly, a frustrated moan escaped her lips.

  Ink had slipped a condom on and was now sliding slowly in and out of Didi, making Pixie jealous. Two men had never intrigued her but the sight and sounds of the two men fucking the busty blonde from both ends, just feet away, was erotic and adding to her aching need.

  Sharp sucked her clit into his mouth and the orgasm that ripped through her bordered on painful. She needed something inside her to fill the spasming void that had been building for hours.

  “God. Yes. Sharp, I hurt. I need your cock inside me, please!”

  She clawed onto the edge of the chair, nearly feral with need. The sight of the two men now brutally fucking the woman in front of her, the sound of Didi’s muffled cries of pleasure, and the feel of her man behind her, shredded her control.

  Sharp’s hand covered her mouth, muffling her screams, as he slammed himself inside her without warning. Pixie’s mind blanked as she finally felt whole. There were no sights or sounds, just feelings of complete bliss as waves of orgasms blanketed her.

  She floated in a dreamy place until the feeling of a warm, wet cloth between her legs started to rouse her. Someone else was rubbing something cool into her shoulder and the fear of a stranger touching her brought her back down to earth. She took stock and realized she was face down on a soft padded surface, the sounds of two men talking above her.

  “You are one lucky son of a bitch.” Hannibal’s voice came from near her shoulder.

  “Don’t I know it.” Sharp pulled up her panties over legs that felt like jelly. Knowing she was safe with her man helped slow the rising nerves.

  “No wonder Caravaggio is willing to sacrifice his men and risk war with the Dark Sons to take her from you.”

  “Not going to happen.”

  “She’s special and she’s your property. Dark Sons will have your back.”

  Dark nightmares swirled in Pixie’s mind, destroying the peace that had started to settle moments before. “Caravaggio is trying to take me?” Her words were slightly slurred, but she was quickly coming back into focus.

  “Don’t you worry about that, darlin’.”

  Terror washed away the last of the drugging bliss. She sat up, slipping her arms into the straps of her dress, angry and needing to be less vulnerable. “You don’t think I should worry about a man whose idea of fun is slicing up a screaming woman for hours then fucking her dead corpse? I mean, silly me, worrying that he wants me.”

  “Fout tonère!” Hannibal cursed under his breath.

  “He’s n
ot going to get to you.”

  The urge to run and hide itched under her skin. She had met a lot of Dark Sons, but how much power did they really have? Caravaggio was the freaking Mafia. He had enough power and money to be one of Mitchel’s frequent customers. She had to make Sharp see how terrifying this man was. “Him getting his hands on me is the reason I found the courage to ask you for help. The only reason I’m here.” Did he understand the level of fear it had taken to override months of brainwashed hopelessness?

  Sharp’s face became ice. “Yeah, babe. I get that you tried to kill yourself rather than go to him. Glad you think fucking me for protection isn’t a worse fate.”

  Pixie’s stomach clenched like she’d been punched. “That is not what I meant.”

  He shoved her new cut at her. “Max and Kickstand are outside. Go wait by my bike.”

  “You should have told me, that’s all I was–”

  “Shut the fuck up and go wait by my bike.” His words were like daggers ripping into her heart.

  She clutched the leather to her chest and ran out through the front of the shop, not acknowledging any of the words thrown her way. She stood by the bike, ignoring Max’s friendly greeting as she slipped on the leather cut.

  She barely remembered the ride home or being left there with Kickstand as her guard. She barely noticed the prospect’s lewd come-ons and snide remarks, remaining completely silent as she unbandaged her new tattoo and washed and cared for the gorgeous pixie now permanently on her shoulder. Nothing Kickstand said nor did was important enough to break through the wall of worry and anger that had her locked inside her own mind.

  Pixie decided to lose herself in baking cookies for tomorrow’s family barbeque. Try to find some order in her life which was once again spinning out of control. How had the day gone so sideways? She had the start of an absolutely gorgeous tattoo and amazing sex that morning but she was beginning to feel the sense of safety she had experienced was a lie. Sharp had kept from her the fact that a psychopath was actively trying to get to her. That the man with the Mafia behind him had obviously done something that sacrificed men and risked war. If her being safe was a lie, what else was he keeping from her?