Nellie and The Dragon Tattoo

"Anyway, I was just fishing for compliments." I smiled sweetly at Damon. "Normally, I let guys flatter me a little more before getting me down to my bra."

He laughed, an actual laugh that time, and shook his head.

"You're a weirdo." He leaned back forward and the now-familiar sensation of the tattoo gun buzzed and pricked at my skin.

"Me? You're the one who tortures people for a living."

He snorted and shook his head. "Guess we're both weirdos, then."

There wasn't exactly tension in the small room to begin with, but Damon did seem to relax a little. He was still quiet and steady, but he seemed a bit more open with me after that.

"So are there actually people who get off on this kind of thing?" I asked.

"What thing? Like, being in pain?"

"Yeah."

He nodded. "Yep. There's a couple of guys we had to tell not to come back. They were making the girls uncomfortable."

"I guess that would be weird."

"To each their own," he said. "I mean, if pain gets you there, whatever. But my girls don't get paid enough for that."

"Does it get you there?"

It was a risky question for me to ask, and I wasn't sure that Damon would answer. To my surprise, he shook his head.

"Nah. Don't really like being in pain, don't really like causing pain."

"Could've fooled me," I said, gritting my teeth as the tattoo gun vibrated over my collarbone.

Damon's mouth twitched as he wiped my chest again, and unless I was imagining things, his fingers trailed just a little lower on my breast than they had the previous time.

"I get it, sort of. It's a power thing. There's something... I dunno. Something about being able to make people feel things, strong things. I like being able to control those sensations."

I licked my lips unconsciously. "So does what you're doing right now, like, turn you on?"

Damon didn't respond right away. After a moment, he pulled the tattoo gun away from me and sat back. His eyes didn't meet mine.

"Maybe you should call your friend back," he said. "Seeing as we're here alone."

"Sorry," I said. "Did I make you uncomfortable?"

He smiled wryly, finally looking up at me.

"I'm not uncomfortable. Just don't want you to think... you know."

"Think what?"

His eyes were serious. "That I'm gonna try something with you."

"Oh. Do you not want to?"

I really, honestly thought that would get Damon to crack. I was expecting his eyes to widen, maybe for him to laugh awkwardly, maybe for him to admit he did.

Instead, his eyes almost sparkled as he smirked at me.

"Flattered, Nellie, but you're not the first one to offer that kind of thing in exchange for a tattoo. You still gotta pay."

I burst out laughing. "Damn. You have me all figured out."

"'Course I do. Recommended your tattoo, didn't I?" He looked at me seriously again. "You want to call your friend, call her. I don't want you to feel... you know."

"I don't feel that way." I smiled at him. "If you're fine, I'm fine."

He thought for a moment before nodding solemnly and leaning forward, returning the tattoo gun to my chest.

"Tell me about this dude," he said.

"Ben?"

"Mm-hmm. That's a hell of a statement. Gotta be some story behind that."

"He was my psychology professor."

Damon startled both himself and me with a laugh. "Seriously?"

"Yep. But don't worry, I wasn't his student at the time. He just happened to come into the restaurant I was working at. One thing led to another and I ended up spending the weekend naked in a hotel room with him. It was pretty great."

"Wow," he said, slightly awed. "Yeah, I can imagine. So you and him are...?"

"Nothing that can really be labelled," I said. "He's moving to California next month. It's just a fun thing. Nothing serious."

"Not into guys your own age?"

"I guess not. J.P.'s older than me, too."

Damon raised his eyebrows. "Who's J.P.?"

"This other guy I'm sleeping with. But he's only four years older. He was my neighbour growing up."

Damon hummed softly and I winced as he started moving the tattoo gun over a particularly sensitive spot.

"So your friend wasn't joking about the sex thing."

"Not even a bit," I replied. "I'm not into the whole monogamy thing. Or the whole serious relationships thing."

"Well, you're only young once," he muttered.

He wiped off the tattoo again, and that time I definitely didn't imagine his fingers lingering just a moment too long on the top of my breast. I didn't speak again until he went back to tattooing me.

"What about you?" I asked.

"What about me?"

"Who are you sleeping with?"

Damon flicked his eyes up to mine for just a moment. "You're trying to rattle me, aren't you?"

"Guilty."

He smiled and didn't respond.

"Come on," I said. "I told you."

"I don't have any interesting stories like you do," he replied.

"So you're not sleeping with anyone right now?"

"Nope." He went to wipe my chest again.

"Is that why you keep touching my tits?"

Damon froze with his fingers just barely grazing the top of my breast. He glanced back up, silent, an almost-guilty expression on his face.

"I can take my bra off, if you want," I suggested.

"This isn't right," he said.

"Sure it's not. But it's fun."

He made a soft noise, almost a groan, not quite a sigh. "Nellie, you... you're twenty-one."

"What are you worried about? Want me to sign another waiver, say that I'm consenting to removing my clothing while you tattoo me and that I'm okay with you grabbing my tits and that I promise not to tell?"

He stared at me, not moving. I could almost see the internal battle happening.

"I have to finish your tattoo," he finally said. "Still got the dragon left."

"Want to finish it while I'm topless?"

I was expecting another long, conflicted pause. Instead, Damon surprised me by nodding almost immediately.

"Yeah."

I sat forward in the chair, unhooking my bra quickly and sliding it off while he watched. I tossed it toward the ledge that held my T-shirt, then leaned back in the chair.

Damon stared at me for another moment, then shook his head just slightly and leaned forward without saying anything. He didn't touch my breasts, but rested his hand on my chest as he brought the tattoo gun back up.

"How many topless girls have you tattooed?" I asked once he started again.

"Lots."

"Does your face always turn so red?"

He scoffed. "I'm not turning red."

"It's a little red," I teased.

He shook his head. "Normally when they're topless, it's because I'm tattooing something I couldn't access with their top on. You are... an exception."

I kind of liked being an exception.

For what felt like a long time, the only sound was the buzzing of the tattoo gun and the occasional rustle as Damon wiped my skin. I watched him work, watched him carefully make sure he didn't touch my breasts, and watched his eyes flick down my body every so often.

It should have been more of a turn on, but the pain of the tattoo was really distracting. Still, I enjoyed the way that Damon kept looking at my breasts. I wasn't entirely sure he would take things further than just looking at me, but I was really, really hoping he would. Studying him as he worked, I couldn't help but find him even more attractive. The way he stared, a piercing gaze completely focused on the task at hand. The slight movement of his lips, his teeth grazing the bottom one just lightly as he concentrated.

He really was far more attractive than I'd initially thought. I wondered briefly if I only thought so because the pain I was in was messing with my mind. I decided he was truly attractive when he glanced up at me, his eyes concealing a hidden sparkle, and I almost forgot how much getting tattooed hurt.

"You said earlier you like being able to control sensations," I said.

"Mm-hmm."

"What other sensations do you like to control?" I asked.

"You're killing me, sweetheart," he muttered.

I grinned and he glanced up, chuckling that soft, dry laugh as he caught my eye.

"You're a damn tease, you know."

"Am not," I said. "That would imply I don't intend to go through with things."

He didn't reply that time, but his fingers trailed a little lower again when he wiped them over the tattoo. For what felt like a really long time, we both fell silent.

"Almost done," he said a while later. "Last little bit here, then you're free. How're you feeling?"

I licked my lips and he glanced up.

"About the tattoo, not... otherwise."

I laughed. "It hurts like a bitch."

"You're doing good. You're pretty quiet, actually."

"I don't think anyone has ever said that about me."

Damon chuckled. "Yeah, probably not."

"I've been told I moan pretty loud."

He swore under his breath and shook his head. "Jesus, Nellie."

When he finally finished, sat back, and declared the tattoo done, I felt my entire body relax. I hadn't even realized I'd been tense until he put the tattoo gun down.

"Take a look before I bandage you up," Damon said, motioning towards the mirror hanging on the wall. "Make sure you're happy with it. It'll be a little red right now, that'll fade."

I slid off the tattoo bed, surprised at how shaky my legs felt after what really wasn't all that long sitting there, and walked over to the mirror. As soon as I saw the tattoo, I let out an excited squeal.

"Holy shit, Damon!" I exclaimed. "It looks so fucking cool!"

I almost forgot that I was topless and hitting on a guy fifteen years older than me as I leaned towards the mirror, examining the dragon that now adorned my chest. For a moment, all that mattered were the crisp lines of the tattoo, the way it looked like it was soaring off my skin and into the air, and I was completely overjoyed.

And I mean completely overjoyed. It took me a moment to realize that it was the adrenaline rush Damon had been talking about. All I could feel was a sense of bubbling giddiness as I stared at my skin.

"Turned out pretty nice, I think," Damon said from behind me.

"I fucking love it," I said, turning back to him and grinning.

"Good." He smiled back. "Let me, uh, bandage it up. You gotta keep it covered for a while. Do you wanna sit back down or—"

"No, this is fine."

Damon nodded, his head jerking just slightly.

"Would it be cool if I, uh, took a picture of it first?"

"You want a topless picture of me?" I asked innocently.

He almost laughed. "It'll just be of the tattoo."

"I mean, you can include more if you want. But yeah, you can definitely take a picture."

He took it quickly, showing me the image that, sadly, did not include any of my tits in it before putting his phone away. Standing in front of me, he applied a layer of ointment to the tattoo. His eyes didn't stray from what he was doing, but I watched the entire time he ran his fingers over the tender skin, soothing it with the thick lotion. They lingered just a moment longer than they should have before he picked up the bandage. His voice was quiet but firm as he gave me instructions.

"This'll protect it for a bit. Once you take the bandage off, you'll probably see some blood and ink. Don't worry, that's normal. Don't wear anything you don't mind getting stained for a couple of days, or anything super tight for probably about a week. Don't expose it to sunlight, don't pick at the scabs, use the lotion on it frequently."

He finished bandaging it, then cleared his throat as he took off the gloves he was wearing. "And, uh, stay out of swimming pools for a while."

"Anything else?" I was barely able to stand still, let alone process anything he had said.

"Yeah, but fuck if I can remember," he said bluntly. "I'll give you an aftercare sheet. Read it. Call if you need, uh, clarification."

His eyes were firmly focused on my breasts and I grinned.

"Are you going to finally touch them properly now, or...?"

Damon lifted a hand. I thought he was going to grab my breast or maybe tweak my nipple or something, but instead his fingers brushed it lightly before continuing up to my neck. Gently, he pulled my face to his and kissed me.

I sighed as I kissed him back. My entire body felt like it was vibrating, my heart racing and my head light. I touched Damon's chest for a moment before gripping his T-shirt and pulling him harder against me.

"You weren't wrong about that adrenaline rush," I mumbled against his mouth.

"'Course I wasn't," he replied, pulling back slightly. "You know how many fucking tattoos I have? Been there, done that."

I burst out laughing, giggling almost uncontrollably. Damon's mouth twisted into a half-smile.

"This isn't a good idea," he said gently. "You're damn cute, Nellie, but this—"

"—is super hot and a great idea after all?" I finished.

"You're hopped up on adrenaline and fifteen years younger than me. Yeah, it's a bad idea."

"I was hitting on you before the adrenaline kicked in," I pointed out.

He didn't have a response to that. For another long, tense moment, we stood just inches away from each other. Damon still didn't say anything and finally, I shrugged.

"But, if you really think so, I guess. Do I pay you up at the front or...?"

"Yeah." Damon cleared his throat. "Yeah, uh, if you wanna put your shirt back on and... I'll meet you up there."

He left the room before I had even turned to the small ledge that held my clothes. I knew the strap of my bra would rub the tattoo and irritate it, so tucked it into my purse instead of putting it on. Before going to the front, I checked my phone, and there was a text from Sydney.

Half-assuming you're gonna fuck the tattoo artist before you leave, so I'm meeting Kara at Lou's for a drink. Come meet us when you're done.

I laughed and shook my head. Sydney knew me far too well, although it didn't seem like I'd be actually fucking Damon. It was too bad. Once the pain had subsided, all the arousal I should have been feeling as I flirted with him hit me at once, and my panties were practically soaked already.

Damon was waiting behind the reception desk when I walked up. He stood completely still, but his fingers were drumming nervously on the counter. I smiled politely and pulled out my credit card.

"Wait." For the first time, he looked nervous. "I, uh... I don't know how to say this."

"You still want to hook up and kind of regret walking out just now?" I asked.

He looked at me, completely serious. "I live above the shop. Literally, my apartment's right there. Come up."

I grinned. "So, how much for the tattoo?"

"Uh, I—"

"I'm not paying for this by sleeping with you. I'm doing that because I want to. Besides, you know what'll piss my dad off even more than me getting a tattoo? Having to pay for it."

Damon shrugged and took my card. As soon as the transaction went through, he stepped around the desk and motioned to the back. I followed him as he flicked the lights off, locked the door, and led me up a staircase at the back of the shop.

There was an awkward moment after he unlocked the apartment door and led me in. Damon didn't look at me right away, still seemingly second-guessing his decision to ask me upstairs.

"Can I use your bathroom first?" I asked as the door closed behind him.

"'Course. Second door on the left," he said, motioning down the hallway.

"And the bedroom?"

"First door."

"I'll meet you there."

I used the trip to the bathroom to text Sydney so she wouldn't worry, then cleaned up quickly. Damon's bedroom door was open and I walked in to see him standing at the edge of the bed.

"So," I said. "Here we are. Planning on telling me this is a terrible idea again, or can we just get to it?"

He didn't respond, just crossed the room and wrapped his arms around my waist. His lips found mine and I ran my hands up his chest, to his neck, and kissed him harder. He let me kiss and touch him for a moment longer, then wrapped his hands around my wrists and gently pulled them away.

"You're sure you're good with this?" he asked.

"Yes."

"'Cause if you're not..."

It was my turn not to respond. Instead, I shook one hand out of his and twisted the other, taking his hand and gently guiding it to my stomach. I unbuttoned my jeans and Damon inhaled slightly as I pushed his hand past the waistband. I guided his fingers into my panties, pressed his hand to my mound, and let him feel the wetness collecting in my slit.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm really, really sure."

Damon made a soft, deep hum of appreciation. His fingers began to move on their own, sliding between my folds and teasing along my entrance before he withdrew his hand.

"Come here," he murmured, pulling me in for another kiss.

He guided us back to the bed, and for a while, all we did was kiss. He knelt on the bed, pulling me onto his lap. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he held me to him, his lips gentle on mine, his breath warm and inviting against my mouth.

Things progressed almost naturally, unhurried and comfortable. Damon slid a hand beneath my T-shirt, running his fingers along my stomach and sides before bringing it up to my breasts again. His touch was confident, gentle at first but increasing in firmness as he explored. I lifted my arms as he tugged my T-shirt up, wincing only slightly when the raw skin where my tattoo was tightened. After he dropped my shirt on the floor, I laughed as he took a moment to adjust the bandage that had shifted on my tattoo.

Damon didn't say anything, just patted the bandage down, his touch just light enough that the dull throb of pain was barely noticeable. He kissed me again and moved his hand down to my breast, squeezing softly and then more firmly before brushing his thumb across my nipple. He repeated the action again, and again, until I moaned softly and squirmed on his lap.

As soon as I did, he brought his other hand to the small of my back and pulled me closer. I tried to wiggle my hands between us so I could take his shirt off, but he nudged them away. His hand trailed up my side and back down, fingers tracing along every curve, light enough almost to tickle me.

I whined quietly again and shifted on his lap. Damon's mouth twitched, his fingers still maddeningly light against my skin. The whine turned into a sharp gasp as he bit down on my bottom lip, not painfully hard but sudden enough to make me open my eyes. He was looking at me, eyes sparkling, enjoying my momentary shock far more than he should have.

I grinned and he kissed me again.

"Different sensations, eh?" I asked.

"You just wait and see, sweetheart."

I didn't have a chance to respond. As soon as he finished speaking, he crushed his lips to mine, hard and insistent, his arms wrapping around me with surprising strength. Before I knew what was happening, Damon pushed himself up on his knees and I was squealing in shock as he lowered me to my back, his arms the only thing stopping me from flopping over.

I giggled as I landed on the bed, though I couldn't quite stop myself from grimacing as the tender skin on my chest tightened painfully again. The burning sensation beneath the bandage was strange; it was painful, but the pain wasn't distracting me. It was heightening everything, just a bit, just enough that I didn't quite mind it at all. Damon's mouth twisted into that little half-smile as he held himself over me. He didn't let me speak, just nestled between my legs and kissed me again before bringing his lips to my neck. His teeth grazed my skin ever-so-slightly before he kissed the spot he'd nipped at, and then his mouth was moving lower.

He didn't really worship my body. The things he did with his mouth were for him, for his enjoyment, things he wanted. He wanted to kiss me, wanted to suck on my breasts, wanted to feel my nipples hardening beneath his tongue. It was a minor distinction, but an important one: my pleasure mattered to Damon only in that he needed it to gain his.