17
TATUM
Nervous anticipation moved in waves through my gut. The fact that Castello wanted me to trust him so badly made me weary. Yet a part of me was excited too, wondering what he had in store for me. But when we walked into the bedroom I balked when I saw a man I didn’t know standing by the window in front of a table that wasn’t there before.
I turned to Castello just as he closed the door. “What’s going on?”
He just smiled, and the man turned around.
“Cas, my man. It’s been a while.”
Castello nodded. “Indeed it has.”
The guy who had piercings in his nose, eyebrows, and bottom lip looked at me. Tattoos peeked out from his shirt collar covering his entire neck and throat.
Castello placed his hand at the small of my back. “Tatum, I’d like you to meet Joey. My tattoo artist.”
I relaxed instantly. I didn’t do well with strange men in my bedroom, especially not after Nicollo tried to rape me before having his head blown off.
Joey reached out his hand toward me. “You must be Tatum. Nice to meet you.”
I shook his hand. “Likewise.”
“So, are we ready to do this?” Joey clapped his hands together.
“Do what?” I cocked a brow at Castello, but he ignored me and walked over to the table.
“Do you have the designs I requested?”
Joey went to stand next to him. “Yup. One king and queen ready to go.”
“Excuse me,” I called out, and they both turned to stare at me. “What is going on?”
Joey narrowed his eyes at Castello. “She doesn’t know, does she?”
Castello’s face remained stoic. “No.”
“Of course not. Motherfucker,” Joey cursed and rubbed his hand over his bald head. “You sure she’s going to go for it?”
Castello glanced at me before turning his attention back to two sketches he held in his hand. “She’ll go with it.”
“Go with what?” I demanded, hating the fact I was being ignored.
Castello placed the sketches back down on the table and pulled off his jacket before he turned to face me. As he rolled up the sleeve of his right arm, he said, “You and I are getting tattoos.”
I almost swallowed my tongue. “We are what?”
Joey started to move around the table, the word fuck dropping out of his mouth every two seconds.
Castello grabbed a chair and sat down, placing his arm on the table next to him. “Sit down, Tatum. I’ll go first.”
“Castello, I am not getting a tattoo.”
“Yes you are.”
“Give me one good reason why I should.”
He snapped his head in my direction, and dark eyes glared at me with warning. All it took was one look and his authority over me came smashing down like boulders on me. With that one look he conveyed the message loud and clear…I didn’t have a choice.
Carefully, nervously I sat down on the bed. Yes, I was an artist, and I liked tattoos…on other people. But getting a tattoo myself was never something I considered. It wasn’t something that interested me when it came to my body.
I watched in silence as Joey shaved the inner part of Castello’s arm. Slow and precise Joey moved the razor across Castello’s skin. My stomach clenched.
Razor…
Skin…
Relief…
With each carefully long stroke of the razor, my heart beat faster. Veins bulged under Castello’s flawless olive skin, the muscled contour of his arm evidence of the strength that pulsed through his body. The silver razor glinted under the light, and for a moment I imagined that it was me who held the sharp edge of the razor against Castello’s skin. The power, the control of knowing that his pain, his blood would be something I held in the palm of my hand. After everything I let Castello do to me—what I loved for him to do to me, I never once thought about how it would feel if I was the one with the power, and he the one completely at my mercy. Would I like it?
I imagined pushing the blade just a little harder to make a tiny cut into his perfect skin, to watch his blood escape the wound in brilliant tears of crimson. His body would be my canvass, his blood the beautiful color I’d create a masterpiece with.
What the hell am I thinking?
While I continued to stare at the razor in Joey’s hand, I felt a warm tingle move up my neck. He was watching me. Castello’s dark eyes narrowed as if he was assessing my every expression. He knew what sordid thoughts were running through my mind. He knew the effect all this had on me, seeing a razor glide over his perfect skin.
I looked away. For a moment I felt ashamed about my thoughts, about wanting to see Castello bleed. I was the one that bled, not him. It was my blood, my pain that made the monsters come out to play. Not his.
Joey moved and caught my eye. He was wiping alcohol over Castello’s cleanly shaven skin. After rubbing soap on Castello’s arm, Joey placed the stencil over the area. I still couldn’t see what the design was, and my curiosity made me lean forward. After Joey removed the paper all I saw was a glimpse of purple lines.
“You happy?” Joey tossed the paper on the table.
Castello lifted his arm, studied the design for a second, and then nodded.
Joey shook his head. “Always a man of few words hey, Cas?” He removed needles and tubes from their sterile pouches and placed them in the machine before the buzzing sound filled the room. “I must say, when you called asking me to make these designs for you I was a little shocked, to say the least. I mean, this is quite different from the rest of your artwork.”
It was clear that Castello had no intention of engaging in a conversation with Joey, but Joey kept on talking as if it didn’t bother him in the least that Castello wasn’t participating.
I watched with fascination as Joey inked Castello’s skin. Black lines formed, and with the sound came images of needles piercing skin. Tiny beads of blood pooled on Castello’s arm which Joey wiped away every few seconds. Not once did I wonder about the pain, how much it had to hurt to have your skin pricked a thousand times. I was used to pain. It no longer scared me. In fact, the prospect of pain excited me. What kind of twisted individual was I?
The entire process took about an hour. It was an hour I spent every second of watching, witnessing as Joey inked, marked, and shaded Castello’s skin. After applying the ointment and dressing, Joey clapped his hands.
“And that’s a wrap for number one. Next lady for a shave?” He glanced my way, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“It’s your turn, Tatum.” Castello stood by the chair, waiting for me to take my seat.
I rubbed my sweaty palms nervously across my thighs, and took a deep breath. Earlier I had told Castello that I trusted him, so now was the time for me to put my words into actions.
“Where is the tattoo going to be?” I sat down in the chair.
“Same place as mine.”
I glanced down at my right arm. “Can I see the design?”
“No.”
And then my world went dark as he placed a blindfold over my eyes.
“Castello, what are you doing? I want to see the design before it gets inked.”
“You said you trusted me, little mouse.”
“Yes, but this is different.”
“How is this any different?” He placed his hand on my shoulder.
“It just is.”
Suddenly his warm breath wafted over the skin of my neck. “Do not take off the blindfold until Joey is done. Is that clear?”
I swallowed hard. I knew it was no use trying to fight him on this—on anything, actually.
Soft fingers traced along my jaw and under my chin. “You belong to me, and so does your body, little mouse.”
I remained silent, and for the first time in probably two hours, so was Joey.
Castello’s touch was gone, and then I felt the razor slide across my skin. Shivers ran down my spine, and my muscles clenched tight in protest. But the more I felt the sharp edge of the razor, the more I relaxed—the more I wanted to feel it pierce through the first layer of skin. I tried to envision through the blackness what it looked like, what Castello was feeling as he watched Joey prepare my skin. Did he feel the same way I did? Did he long to see me bleed? Of course he did. It was something he never tried to hide, the way he yearned to see the crimson liquid of my soul.
“Ready?” Joey’s voice cracked through my thoughts.
I stiffened, before biting my bottom lip.
“Trust me, little mouse.” The sound of his voice was bewitching, soothing, and I found comfort in his words.
“Yes.”
And then the buzzing vibrated through the air just before I felt the burn on my skin. I flinched, and the pain intensified, lingering as Joey moved the needle. It was only when I tasted blood that I realized I had bitten my bottom lip. A hand cupped my chin, pulling my face up. I knew it was him. I knew it by the way my skin burned under his touch. No other man was able to electrify my body with one single, simple touch. He placed his thumb on my lip, over the spot that was bleeding, and then his hand was gone. An image of him sucking my blood off his thumb filled my mind, and what felt like an electric current shocked through my spine, crashing between my legs.
The fact that I had my sense of sight taken from me made me feel the pain even more. I could feel the blood seep through the holes the needle pierced in my skin. I could hear and feel my skin crack, ink staining my body. But as the needle continued its onslaught, the pain slowly started to fade and I wished that it wouldn’t. I liked the pain. It made me feel alive.
Joey wiped across my arm every few seconds, and knowing that Castello was looking, that he was witnessing my blood seeping from my body thrilled me. My muscles were no longer strained because of uncertainty, because I didn’t know what to expect. They were strained because my gut was filled to the brim with anticipation, thinking about how much Castello had to like the sight of me now. Bleeding, being marked, and trusting him completely.
The more I sat there, feeling the sharp sting of the needle, the more I started to embrace the pain, adrenaline running wildly through my veins.
I clenched my thighs together, my body aching in the most inappropriate way. But I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop my need from rising to new heights as my skin got marked.
“Almost done,” Joey said softly.
I felt Castello place his palm at the back of my head. “You’re doing great, little mouse.”
Nervous excitement spread through my gut, adrenaline bursting through my veins. I wanted to see it. I wanted to see the design Castello had chosen for me, for him.
I clutched my belly with my other hand. I knew there was a lot of controversy about pregnant women getting tattoos, but in the end it all depended on whether it was a trustworthy artist. And the way I knew Castello, Joey wouldn’t be anything less than one hundred percent trustworthy.
The buzzing stopped, and after hours of listening to the sound the silence felt odd, out of place. My skin was burning as if it had been held above the flame of a candle for too long. But the pain didn’t make me anxious, it didn’t cause my mind to flip thinking of nothing else but a way to find relief from the burn. I liked it. But then again, I’ve known for a long time I was different, that my mind was different than others.
A strong, yet gentle hand took ahold of my elbow and helped me off the chair. With the blindfold still secure my skin soaked up the intensity of his touch. My body would recognize Castello’s touch within a split second. No other man had the power to burn my soul while my body never felt more alive.
Castello moved to stand behind me, placing his hands on my hips. “I’m going to take off the blindfold, but don’t open your eyes.”
His words, and the warmth of his breath made my skin feel alive and hungry for his touch. I knew Joey was still in the room, but I didn’t give a damn. If Castello had to take me right here, right now, I wouldn’t give a shit about Joey still being there. All I would care about was getting my fix of an addiction I pray I would never beat.
Castello took off the blindfold, but I kept my eyes closed as instructed. I was a well-behaved pet, knowing the reward would be so much sweeter when I pleased my master.
I felt him wrap his fingers around my elbow. My heart started to hammer against my ribcage, the blood in my veins swooshing in every direction. Somehow this moment just kept intensifying with every passing second. No matter what the situation, Castello had the power to turn every minute with him into an experience I wished would never end.
He lifted my right arm, the arm that was still stinging with the burn of the ink. I shivered when I felt him place the length of his arm against mine, his other hand resting on my hip.
Soft lips brushed against my ear. “Open your eyes, little mouse.”
I felt hesitant, nervous, but I slowly opened my eyes and looked down at our arms.
“Oh my God.” I sucked in a breath as I took in the two images permanently marked on our skin.
“You see, little mouse. I told you that you are my queen, but what I failed to say was—”he pushed his fingers deeper into the skin of my hip “—that I am your king.”
Two chess pieces. A king on my arm. A queen on his. They were beautifully drawn in shades of black and gray. Intricate lines crafted around the pieces made it look elegant, refined, yet majestic and powerful. But it was the words inked around the chess pieces that made my heart expand to a point where I was afraid it would burst.
Below the king on my arm were the words, ‘Il mio re. Mio protettore.’ My King, My Protector.
But when I read the words that marked his skin, it felt like every ounce of breath had escaped me. ‘La mia regina, la mia salvezza.’ My Queen, My Salvation.
Blood seeped through the cuts blending with the ink. Somehow the sight made the moment so much more powerful, as if our souls were bleeding as a bond was being solidified.
Castello’s grip on my waist tightened and he pulled me harder against him. “As long as you respect and obey me as your king, I will protect you”
With a subtle flex against my ass I felt how hard he was, and my insides flipped with hot, heady anticipation.
“And for as long as I have breath inside my body, I will treat you as my queen, make sure you want for nothing. Everything you desire will be yours, because I know that as long as you are my queen, I will have salvation.”
I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t contain it. Every wave, every current of my desire for this man took complete control, and I acted. I lifted my arm, wrapping it around his neck as he stood behind me. With strength I didn’t know I had I pulled his head down, and turned my lips toward his. I wanted to taste him. I wanted to devour him. I wanted to own him...just like he owned me with every breath he took.
Castello didn’t stop me. Thank God. He allowed my lips to crash against his. He allowed my mouth to devour his. And I was rewarded with the same amount of fervor as his tongue claimed every inch of my mouth as mine claimed every inch of his. His taste, his lust, and his need to control became my own. Not once since Castello had forced himself into my life did I have the need to control him, to make him mine. All this time I was too busy willing him to make me his, offering myself to him. But now, right at this moment, I wanted to make him mine.
It was only when Joey awkwardly cleared his throat that the reality of not being alone seeped in through the cracks, our mutual lust and desire retreating to the corners...for now.
Castello let go of my mouth and looked at Joey standing a few feet away. “Why are you still here?”
He brushed his palm nervously over his bald head. “I still need to wrap that up.” He gestured toward my arm. “And since you decided to pull off your wrapping, I need to redo that as well. We wouldn’t want those works of art to get infected.”
Castello gave a step back, and I bit down on my tongue before a moan could escape my lips.
“We don’t want that, no.” Castello gestured for Joey to wrap mine first, and the entire time Joey spent on putting on some ointment and placing the protective wrapping around my arm, all I thought about was what would happen once Joey left. Once Castello and I would be left alone.
It didn’t take Joey long though. It was like he knew that if he didn’t leave as soon as possible, he would carry grave consequences.
“So, let me know how this all works out.” He indicated to both our arms freshly wrapped. “And leave those on ‘til at least tomorrow morning…if you can. Try not to get it wet, if you need any other work done just—”
“Joey.” Castello glared at him.
“Yeah?”
“Leave.”
“Oh, yes. Okay. Well then, Tatum, it was nice to meet you, and I hope to work on you again…in a non-sexual, dirty kind of way. You know, professionally.”
I chuckled at how he struggled to keep his nervousness contained. Castello seemed to have that effect on a lot of people. God knows he intimidated me in the beginning—how he intimidated me still, only I wasn’t so frightened of him anymore.
Joey carried his bag and opened the door. “See ya.”
The second the door closed behind him, my gut was immediately filled with equal parts desire and uncertainty. Absentmindedly I lightly touched the wrapping on my arm, the skin underneath still burning.
Castello slowly sauntered toward the door, and the click of the lock resounded like a gunshot through the room.
He turned while unbuttoning his shirt. “How does it feel?”
I shrugged. “Let’s just say I’ve experienced worse pain than getting a tattoo.”
“I wasn’t referring to the pain.”
“Then what were you referring to?”
He pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the floor. “I was referring to how it feels to have your body marked.”
“Is that what this is? You marked me?” I couldn’t look him in the eye. Not with him standing across the room from me without his shirt on. Roped muscle covered with taut, beautiful olive skin beckoning to be touched. Castello Fattore was a gorgeous man, a strong man. Every inch of him was perfection. The mystery, and the darkness that lurked behind those chocolate irises was so appealing and striking, it was as if he had been created by God and the devil—both staking their claim over him.
His eyes were hard, his gaze pinned on me. “Believe me, little mouse, that tattoo does not even come close to how I really want to mark you. That tattoo is the symbol of my commitment to you. It’s there to remind both you and me what we are to each other.”
I moved closer. “How can I be your salvation when all I’ve done was bring war to your front door?”
He too came closer, so close I had to look up and into his eyes. “That is true. You’re ruining me…but you were able to do something no one has ever had.”
“And what is that?”
His arm reached behind me, his fingers slowly moving through my hair until he tightened his grip around a fistful of golden strands. “You freed the beast, and in turn liberated me from a feeble existence.”
My heart was pounding, my mouth dry. The heat that radiated from his body to mine was intoxicating. I could feel it coat every inch of my skin, ripples of the most carnal desire moving from him to me.
He dragged a finger along my jaw, his breath teasing my lips with the promise of a kiss, yet never delivered. Slowly, torturously, his touch moved down my neck until it reached the collar of my dress.
“What if my answer is yes?” His gaze followed the movement of his finger against my skin.
“Yes to what?”
He continued to toy with my dress collar. “The question you once asked me. The question that has been haunting your mind, burning a hole of uncertainty into your soul.”
His fingers moved against my scalp as he gathered more hair in his grip. He pulled my hair forcing me to look up as he leaned down, his lips barely touching my ear.
“What if my answer is yes? That you are free to choose whether you want to leave…or stay at my side?”
I gasped. I couldn’t stop myself. “Is that your answer, Castello? Are you saying yes?”
He leaned closer, his lips brushing all along my ear. I could hear his breathing. I could feel the heat of his breath, and I felt hypnotized by the man who undoubtedly owned every part of me.
“If I am, would you stay?” he whispered against my neck, tracing circles over my skin with his lips.
My mind slipped, and through the haze of lust, desire, and a need to be lost within a world where there was no one but him or me, I remembered it was no longer just us. No matter what we do, where we go, it would never ever be just us. Everything had changed, yet Castello had no clue. Things had grown much more complicated since the day I asked him that question—whether I had the freedom to choose. The truth was, I didn’t. I didn’t have the freedom then because he had denied me. But now that he has seemingly given me that freedom, the outcome remained the same. I still didn’t have the freedom to choose my own destiny, to choose based on what I wanted…because the life growing inside me made that decision for me.