The Tattoo Artist (La Petite Mort #1)

35. Chapter 35

thirty-five

Quinn

" O h GOD, you're big, " I gasped against his lips as waves of pain rolled through my body from the abruptness of it. I wanted this.I never wanted a single thing more.

He stayed still, buried deep inside, and watched me as tears filled my eyes from the stinging burn. I didn't care if it hurt.

He was big and oh so thick. My poor pussy stretched to accommodate him.

Alexander stayed still and waited for me to adjust to his size. I blinked rapidly as I rode out the waves of pain. I removed my nails from the back of his shoulders where they'd dug in.

I swallowed and relaxed my muscles to prepare for him to pull out when suddenly he tilted my head back towards his with a hand around my throat. Alexander stared down into my eyes.

"Tonight, I'm your God," he growled and rolled his hips, rubbing my clit with his hard pelvic bone until I begged for more.

"Alexander, harder. Ohh, please, Alex," I begged.

"Good girl," he praised me with that same smirk before chuckling. I panted, taking my hands off of his shoulders to wrap them around his neck. He rolled his hips again and hitched my thigh up around his waist before slowly pulling out of me.

When only the thick fat head of his cock remained inside of me, I held my breath, waiting for the empty feeling I imagined would come when he pulled free. But he licked his lips and slammed into me again, rolling his hips on the forward thrust and pulling out once again before repeating that motion over and over again.

"Butterfly, I'm going to come," he cried out, burying his face in my neck and pushing in as he moaned my name once more and came inside me.

The idea of never being with him was no longer an option. I wanted him again, even now, with him still inside me. When he lifted his body to look down at me, I smiled. "That was amazing."

"It was more than amazing, Princess. I can't get enough of you, Quinn."

Reaching up, I placed my hand on the side of his face. "I feel the same way, and I want this. Us, together," I admitted.

He kissed the tip of my nose. "I'm glad. Because now I know I can never let you go."

My eyes flew open, and I immediately got into a sitting position, taking in my surroundings.

Looking for him.

My eyes scanned every inch of my room, and I felt him even though I couldn't see him. I could still smell the lingering scent he left behind.I laid my head down, resting it against my palms, and tried to come to terms with the fact that Alexander was my boyfriend.

Getting ready to leave for work, I got on my hands and knees and retrieved the box under my bed. Opening the box, I grabbed the letters and stuffed them inside my bag, hiding the box once again under my bed before heading towards the bus stop.

During my 30-minute bus ride, I kept contemplating whether I should read the letters Deimos, I mean Alexander , gave me, but before I could even think about retrieving them, the bus stopped. I walked into work and went straight to work.

Isaac had come in ten minutes after my shift, sitting at his usual spot. Today, he's reading The Heartless, the second book in the La Petite Mort series. I slipped the letters out from my backpack, and I didn't think twice before opening the first one, taking the folded paper out from its envelope.

I looked down and started to read.

Dear Alexander,

I had an amazing time with you today. Thank you for inspiring me. I had a lot of fun with you, and I accept your proposition. I want to be your friend, but let's not tell anyone. I don't want my parents to find out I'm friends with you because if they do, I'll get sent away or worse.

P.S. Thank you for the cranberries.

Your friend,

Quinn

I opened the next one.

And the next one.

And the next one.

Dear Alexander,

As I watched you today in your element tattooing, all I could think about was how lucky I was. You've changed my life for the better, and I'll be forever grateful.

P.S. I want a tattoo.

Sincerely,

Your Princess

And the next one.

Dear Alexander,

What have you done to me? I caught myself daydreaming about you while getting ready for school. You have completely taken over my life and my dreams, by the way. Not that I mind it, but can you please keep me in your dreams, too?

P.S. I'm happy to call you my boyfriend.

Sincerely Yours,

Your Butterfly

And the next one.

Dear Alexander ,

I'm not scared anymore to love you. It's strange to feel this way about someone so fast, let alone say the words, "I love you."

I've never felt this way before for another human who makes me feel the same way you do. The feeling consumes my body. My thoughts. My soul. You're my muse, Alexander Hades. There are no words in the English language or any language that can express how I feel about you, but I truly hope the five words I'm about to write will do you justice.

I love you, Alexander Hades.

P.S. You're my darkness in this world full of light.

Sincerely,

Your Angelos

My hands shook. I hadn't noticed the tears that had escaped my eyes and had now stained the letter. I wiped my stained, teary cheeks clean before folding the letter and inserting it inside the envelope. I unlocked my phone and dialed his number, holding it towards my ear.

"Butterfly," he answered, his voice laced with concern.

"I read the letters," I confessed, hearing him sigh. "Not all of them, but enough to know I want to try Alexander. On one condition," I added.

"Name it."

"If it doesn't work," I paused as a lump formed in my throat and tears threatened to spill from my eyes. "If I can't remember you, I want you to move on. Alexander, it will be the end of us and my obsession with Deimos." I hung up the phone and gripped my throat as I tried my hardest to gasp for air. What if I never remembered him?

When I got home, I opened the door silently and went upstairs since my parents were most likely asleep by now. I entered my room and walked into the en-suite to shower. Twenty minutes later, I was out of the shower and fully dressed in my jammies. As I went to open the door, my eyes crashed with green ones. His eyes were a deep forest green that flickered like sunlight filtered through the leaves. A green so enchanting that you would only imagine this type of green in books .

"Alexander," I uttered the words, almost in disbelief that he was standing right before me. Alexander approached me, closing the gap between us. He cupped my face and settled his forehead against mine. "Princess," he whispered. I took a deep breath, wanting to feel him closer to me. I wanted to inhale his scent. "Go put on some tennis shoes," he ordered in that deep husky voice. How did I not recognize that voice? Duh, he wore a mask that made it hard to distinguish, so he lowered his octaves.

I went around him immediately, listening to his order and slipping on my tennis shoes. He held out a jacket, and I slipped my arms through, spinning around so that he could zip me up.

Once outside my balcony, he helped me make my way down the balcony. "Psst! Alex," I whispered. He turned, giving me his full attention. "Where are we going?" I questioned.

He gave me a smirk before responding. "You'll see, Princess."

He continued to pull me away from my home and down the alley. "You're not kidnapping me, are you?" I blurted out. He chuckled, shaking his head. We reached the end of the road, where I saw his car parked. He opened my door like the gentleman he was, and I slid inside the front seat. He jogged around the car—started the engine, and drove off.

"I have to be home before sunrise," I acknowledged. Hoping he understood that I couldn't be out very late since my mother always woke up before six.

"I know the drill, baby," he grinned wickedly. I giggled because not only did I love it when he called me baby, but the grin he gave me could melt my panties right off. "We've had a lot of practice. Hell, my innocent little Angel, you came up with the idea," he continued.

I gasped. I was surprised for a moment to know that I had come up with the idea to sneak around, but a nagging feeling inside me made me think maybe I wasn't so innocent after all. Alexander continued to drive for another twenty minutes when he came to a complete stop at a red light. He took this opportunity to interlock our fingers.

I looked down at our interlocked fingers as he slipped his hands into mine. I watched every single one of his moves. He brushed his thumb against the top of my palm and slowly lifted our hands as he pressed his lips against them.

My breath hitched, and my thighs squeezed together. I wanted this alone time with him. I wanted to remember my time with him. I wanted to know his secrets. I wanted to touch every single inch of him.

"Tell me something I would have known about you?" I asked sheepishly. I bit my lower lip, waiting for him to respond. The light turned green, and he drove off.

With one hand on the steering wheel and the other still interlocked with mine, he looked at me for a second, then at the road. "Hmm, let me see—" he paused for a moment. "The butterfly tattoo on my hand is a design you drew." He showed me the blue morpho butterfly. But he said he drew it. He lied? Duh, Quinn, he couldn't tell you that you drew it or that he was Deimos.

I stared at the tattoo—the one he said I designed—trying my hardest to swallow the lump that was currently stuck in my throat. Why would I design a blue morpho butterfly? I could see the pain in his eyes as he glanced away from me and watched the road.

I squeezed his hand, but even then, I still felt guilty.