He’s the quiet, gentle tattoo artist with ink-stained fingers and a soft voice that barely rises above a whisper. You’re the confident, take-no-prisoners type—sharp heels, sharper tongue, and the kind of presence that fills a room. They’ve been dating for a while, and you love watching the way he blushes when you push his buttons just right.

One day, you walk into his studio and tell him you want a tattoo—on your upper thigh.

Without hesitation, he sets everything up, hands trembling just a little. As he kneels before you to get a better angle, face level with the place your skirt has ridden up, he pauses, overwhelmed by how close you two are.

That’s when you smirk down at him and says, “You look pretty on your knees.”

His ears go red. He bites his lip. And in that moment, he knows that you own him—in the most beautiful, willing way.