The Tattoo Artist (La Petite Mort #1)

23. Chapter 23

twenty-three

Deimos

I wanted her, and I wanted her all to myself. My need to protect her outweighed everything. It had been two years since she saw me, and I'd watched her over those two years of silence. Quinn had been my kryptonite from the moment I met her. She was finally back in my life, and that fucker wouldn't take her away from me.

That asshole Mr.Walsh thought he would get away with touching what was mine, but he was wrong, and he paid the ultimate price—with his life. I smirked to myself, just thinking about what I did last night. Goddamn pig deserved everything he got.

When I learned what that bastard did to Quinn, I wanted to kill him. The urge I had to carve his fucking heart out and feel it beat between my fingers burned through me.

I knew he wanted more. He wanted to touch what was mine, and I wasn’t about to let that happen. It took me a while to end his miserable life, but he was a dead man walking.

I watched his house.

His every fucking movement was monitored.

I knew when to strike.

My memory drifted to last night.

I got to my bike, sped out of the garage way above the speed limit, headed straight for that son of a bitch.

I had to make this right. I had to fucking protect her.

Twenty minutes later, I burst into his home office with my gun in hand. Fucking bastard raised his hands in surrender. “Please…please don’t kill me. Take anything you want, but please don’t kill me,” he begged. I laughed sinisterly. Motherfucker thought I was here to rob him. If he only knew I was here to end his life. To watch the life drain from his eyes and watch his heart stop beating right before me.

My boiling blood ran through my veins, pumping my heart with venom that burned every ounce of light I had to ash. I pointed the gun at him, angrily puffing through my clenched teeth. I was driven by rage and insanity at what he did to her.

He touched her.

He smelled her.

He fucking looked at her.

But most of all, I was driven by my obsession with her.

I harshly grabbed him from his neck and squeezed, watching his breathing come to a halt. His eyes widened, and he tried to pry my hand away, but I was stronger.

I lifted his pathetic self a few inches from the floor as he continued to struggle. My hand only tightened around his neck, making sure to leave my mark. I watched his eyes start to close, and I instantly released him.

He fell with a thump.

He was gasping, trying to suck in a lung full of air as his hands went up to his neck, trying desperately to protect himself. I reached for my knife, the blade reflecting the despair poor Mr.Walsh was feeling.

I chuckled.

I crouched down so that we could see each other. I wanted to watch his life disappear when suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my left thigh.

I looked down and saw him trying to pull the fucking knife he had out of my thigh. My hand went out to grab him by his neck, pushing his body against the wall. I used my free hand to pull the knife out of me before using his own fucking knife to kill him.

I stabbed him between his collarbone and his shoulder blade. He groaned in pain, fueling my rage. I twisted the blade deeper the more he cried out.

I released his throat, watching him gasp and groan. “You shouldn’t have touched what’s mine,” I told him right before I plunged my knife into his chest, craving his heart out.

Once his heart stopped beating, I shoved the sign of death down his fucking throat. Pulling out the knife he used to stab me, I stabbed his heart into the wall, watching his blood drip down the wall.

I went to her—my obsession. My everything.

I watched her take in the view before her and knew she was looking for me. She wanted to see me just as much as I wanted to see her.There I stood in front of her, the rain soaking us both.She didn't need to ask me why I killed him, but she did. She wanted to hear it from my mouth.

But I didn't answer.

I couldn't.

So, I nodded my answer.

Quinn knew why I killed him.She didn't have to ask me, but like the vixen, I knew she could be—she did. Instead of uttering the answer in my own voice, I made contact with the necklace I had given her that same night. And just like that, my girl closed the gap between us, lifted my mask, and kissed me.

At that moment, all I wanted to do was devour her. I wrapped my hand around her waist and pulled her closer to me. The kiss between us was anything but innocent. The kiss was consuming, sinful, and utterly delicious.

"I want you, Deimos," she mumbled against my lips, and at that moment, I smirked sinisterly. My hands lifted her, and her legs automatically wrapped around me. I held her up with one hand, pushing her up against the balcony door inside the safety of her room. I kissed her once again, towering over her.Stepping away from her, I removed my sweatshirt and tossed it on the floor. I was glad that I had gone with a long-sleeve black shirt instead of my usual black T-shirts, my tattoos hidden beneath.

She licked her sweet, swollen lips, watching my every move. I moved towards her and grabbed her by her neck, pulling her towards me.My hands trailed down her robe, wrapping the belt around my fist, ready to pull it off her.Our gaze met, silently asking her for permission to untie her robe. She nodded, and with that, I ripped the belt open, revealing her pajamas.

Pulling away for a second to admire her before settling her on the bed. She lay in the middle of her bed, her wet hair sprayed against her comforter.I settled between her legs, and she moaned softly as I pushed my hardened cock against her. My hands roamed underneath her wet shirt, and my fingers caressed her skin—removing her shirt.

Holy Fuck!

She was bare. Nothing between me and her hardened nipples—entirely on display for me. I dropped my head—I nipped, licked, and kissed my way down her chest when suddenly I stopped all movement.The view in front of me was breathtaking. The butterfly sword tattoo she proudly displayed—had my fingers brushing against it.

I lifted my head—our eyes met only for a second before I devoured her. My tongue played with her right breast as my free hand went up to squeeze her left. She gasped in surprise, and I smiled against her breast.

"Deimos," she moaned—hearing her moans caused the beast inside me to roar.My hands tugged at her shorts for permission, and she didn't take long to give it. I slipped her shorts off her legs, throwing them somewhere on the floor along with her cotton panties. I laughed internally at my girl—so innocent.

I got on my knees in front of her—and only for her. She looked so innocent yet unholy, looking up at me. She was bare and wet, and I couldn't wait to get a taste of her sweet pussy.My hands slipped under her thighs, and I pulled her right down to the edge of the bed.

She was so fucking wet.

Pushing her legs wider, my head disappeared between her delicious creamy legs. My tongue came in contact with her pussy with one painfully slow stroke. And before she could do or say anything else, I closed my lips around her clit and sucked lightly before my teeth grazed against her swollen clit.

She cried out in pleasure a little too loud, and I watched her bring her hands up to cover her mouth. I smirked against her wet lips, feeling proud at the reaction I was able to invoke out of her.I could only assume it was to prevent the neighbors from hearing her screams of pleasure—since I knew her parents weren't home.

I licked her opening, wanting to feast on her even more as her wetness gushed from her pink pussy. I slid my tongue inside her—expertly moving it—spelling my name.

D-E-I-M-O-S

She was mine, and because of this, I was going to make her cum with my name on her lips—both her lips. She let go of me, and her hands fisted the sheets when I traced the M and then the O inside her.One of my hands trailed up her neck, wrapping itself around her and squeezing. And with the final letter, she detonated—her juices covered my mouth.

She tasted like cranberry, and I fucking loved it.

I kissed her.

I wanted her to know what she tasted like. I wanted her to savor the taste, and I couldn't fucking wait for her to taste us together.She parted her mouth for me, and the beast inside me ravished her. My tongue explored her mouth, sucking on it.

"I trust you, Deimos, with my life," she whispered.

"Stay—please stay," She begged me.

Those fucking words ignited something inside me. My girl trusted me, and that was all I could ask for, but what would she do once she found out the truth? I wanted her to beg me, but not for that. I wanted her to beg me to fuck her—to make her come so hard I take her to heaven and hell. I wanted her to beg me in the most sinful of ways, but never for that. Just wait, my Angelos. I'll be yours forever.

"Kαι το τελευτα?ο σου," I whispered against the mask that now covered my lips once more. ( "And your last one .")

The beast inside me roared at the thought of another man touching her or, worse, losing her.