Inked In (Tattooed Love) Read Free Page A

trafficking and multiple homicides. He was the real deal, a genuine nomad from the ground up. He truly lived free. “Maybe on a few wanted posters,” she said.
     
    He cocked an eyebrow. “You're not scared of me?”
     
    She shrugged. “Should I be?”
     
    “Only if you're smart,” he responded.
     
    “Never was.”
     
    He shook his head. “You look like a Barbie, but you talk like one of my soldiers. What's your name?”
     
    “Miranda.”
     
    “I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into, Miranda,” Brady said, draining the shot of whiskey in front of him. “Maybe you should just run home, get back to your husband, your kids. We don't need any weekend warriors here looking for a cheap thrill.”
     
    Miranda shook her head. “I don't have a husband or kids. I am looking for a thrill though, but nothing cheap.” That got his attention. His eyes fell on her breasts, tracing her cleavage. His stare was so powerful it almost felt as if he was actually caressing them. Miranda could see the lust ignite in his eyes.
     
    “I can't make you a Brave, but I might be able to give you something to remember us by,” Brady said with a smirk.
     
    Miranda leaned in. “I sure hope you can fuck as hard as you talk,” she whispered, and next thing she knew, they were in his hotel room, tearing at each other’s clothing.
     
    Miranda pulled off his leather jacket and smelled it, filling her nostrils with its rich scent. Then, she ran a hand down his chiseled chest, tracing the outline of his tattoo. “I sketched this on to you. A few weeks ago. You probably don't remember,” she said.
     
    Brady peeled her shirt off her back. “You want to know a secret. I did. From the moment I saw you this morning, I had a feeling you'd show up again.”
     
    Miranda smirked. “You just couldn't stay away from me.”
     
    Brady shrugged. “It was a good tattoo,” he said, as he snapped the bra off of her. Her breasts spilled forward, her nipples erect. They scraped across his hard, hot body, and Miranda grabbed a fistful of the hardening cock right beneath his jeans. Her panties were so wet they were gliding off of her, working their way down her thighs.
     
    Brady slipped off his jeans and underwear, standing naked in the dim light of the lamp. His hard cock was thick and engorged. It hung long and low, a perfect complement to his big arms and lean torso. Veins ran along his biceps and down his abdomen. She wanted him so badly. All those fantasies had been building up to this one moment, and now, they were ready for release.
     
    Brady pressed his hot body against her own. The heat sent shivers that started in between her legs and radiated outwards. Then, he threw her on the bed, heels still on, and pushed her legs apart. Her insides longed for him. She wanted him to bury his cock inside of her, but he would not. He was teasing her. It only made her want it more. She felt a light brush on her side.
     
    “What are you doing?” Miranda asked.
     
    “You think you're the only one that can sketch? I'm returning the favor.”
     
    Miranda looked down at the side of her stomach. He was sketching Gothic lettering across her ribs and abdomen. When he was finished, it read, Brady's Brave .
     
    Finally, he put her heels on each one of his shoulders and sank his cock inside her. Miranda shuttered in pleasure, moaning as he stuffed himself inside her, filling her to the brim. She almost cried out in pain, instead she whimpered in pleasure.
     
    Brady thrust deep into her. “Who do you belong to?” he demanded, pounding her harder with each thrust. Miranda held her breasts, as they bounced up and down from the impact. “Who do you belong to?” he asked again, pulling both of her legs high into the air, ramming her g-spot over and over.
     
    “You, you!” Miranda moaned, as her face flushed a deep scarlet. The heat was spreading all across her body. It was utter ecstasy. Each thrust plunged deeper inside of her,