Page 147 of Heavy
“That’s it, baby girl, fuck that’s good. Look how your body comes for me and only me.”
Fireworks are lighting up my vision, my mouth wide open as I heave through a strangled breath.
He grins. “Who does this cunt belong to?”
“You.” I pant. “You…”
“Naturals,” Alan comments, and I’m beyond tempted to look at him. I want to see his face, see the art he is working on, but most importantly, see if he is hard. I could care less about his actual dick, but the prospect that Ronan and I are turning him, or anyone on the other end of that camera, on just does something to me.
However, as badly as I want to look, I don’t. I stare right at my gladiator as he takes off his shirt and then his pants, along with his boxers. He grabs his curved cock that’s at full attention, fisting up and down his pierced masterpiece.
“Put your dick inside me, please, baby.”
“How bad does my slut want my cock?” he asks, slightly turning so that the camera can see just how much of a mess he has already made. It also gives them a view of his length in his grasp. His precum lathering, giving him the ability to stroke himself.
“So fucking badly… I’d kill for it—”
He chuckles. “For legal purposes, that’s just a metaphor for ‘really badly’.” Then he squares himself back to me, “I’m moving her down.” The pull of the needle away from me slightly comes with Ronan dragging my ass down the leather seat. I slip down pretty easily thanks to all my cum.
The cross piercing at the head of his cock drags across my clit, just as the tattoo gun gets back to work on my piece. He slowly enters me just as I’m clenching from the burn of the needle.
His grin is diabolical, and my stomach tightens at the intensity of it. “I’m going to fuckmypussy until you come all over it, then you’ll clean up your mess. Do you understand?”
“Y-Yes!” He throws his hips forward, and I gasp.
I want this until the day we are both no more. Fucking, riding his bike together, taking care of our dog, getting tattoos for each other—this is the life I’ve waited for. Being shown off as beinghisand no one else’s. It’s what I deserve to have, and every day Ronan reminds me of that fact.
After fucking me until I came again, he stood beside the chair, and I cleaned up my mess until he filled my throat with his own release.
He gave me a break while Alan finished up my tattoo, wrapped it, and told me we could see it later. Then it was his turn, and it was a bit more difficult to fuck him due to the location of his tattoo.
He ended up getting the tattoo on his chest, right over where he was shot. It was the only free place besides on his legs, and he wanted it more front and center than there. The placement wasn’t really the problem, he just had to blindfold me after I sucked his dick to ride him.
I may be an actual addict to this type of tattooing. I cannot imagine getting another one without having Ronan’s cock somewhere inside me, or his face between my thighs.
Once his was done, we wrapped up with Alan and made our way over to Ken’s place. Everyone was waiting for us, including Eamon, which I wasn’t expecting. We weren’t late or anything, they were all just eager to see us, or the tattoos, I guess. After about an hour, we unwrapped them to see them for the first time. Alan was sweet and gave us second-skin to apply after our viewing of them.
Seeing the design on Ronan, then on myself, nearly brought me to tears. It’s about the size of a half-dollar, with three brushstrokes of my favorite color and a roman numeral etched over it. The number between us is the same, but his is a forest green.
“Is this a date?” I ask, leaning in closer to inspect his.
“It is.”
“June twenty-first…” He drags his knuckles across my cheek. My gaze lifts to look up into his eyes that are full of love, patience and longing. “What’s that day?”
A soft chuckle rolls from his throat. “It’s the day you touched me.” Heat immediately consumes my eyes, tears slowly gathering at my lids. “I think they call it a core memory. While I’ll never forget that day and its significance, I want others to see it… Ask‘what does it mean?’so that I can say to them, the woman I love painted a new beginning for me.”
Warm tears draw down my cheek as I release a choked laugh.
“And for you to tell people it’s the day you chose my heavy to carry.”
I suck in a snot filled breath through my nose and smile so hard, my temples begin to throb.
“Then…” he continues and moves his hand behind his back. “I want you to tell them that the same day you got that tattoo, is the day I asked you to marry me.”
I look down, goosebumps prickling across my arms and down my legs. In his hand is a small, open green box, and inside it, a ring. The band is rose gold, with a princess-cut diamond nestled between two smaller, circular stones.
“It isn’t much, but…” He leans forward and grabs my hand, slipping the ring that fitsperfectlyonto my finger. “No amount of money can amount to your worth, so I’m not even going to try.”
