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The Tattoo

Grayson’s POV

She stays above me, the silence stretching between us, but it’s a silence that speaks louder than words. Her eyes are wide and glistening, a single tear threatening to fall. Without thinking, I reach up and gently wipe it away. Anyone who knows me knows what this moment means. It’s not just a tattoo. This is like handing her a piece of my soul, my trust. I don’t let anyone mark my body, not like this.

I watch her as she sets everything up, getting the tattoo gun ready, her movements deliberate, almost reverent. But then, with that playful glint in her eyes, she rolls her hips purposefully, grinding against me. My body tenses, every muscle tight, as I fight the urge to slam up into her and make her scream. I want to, desperately, but this moment—this first stroke of the needle—needs to be hers.

She leans forward, pressing her chest to mine, kissing my chest, her hips still moving as she grinds down, sending waves of pleasure through me. Then I hear the buzzing sound of th
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