He lifts me back up, placing me on the ground as I hold on tight to his shoulders.
“Fucking pants,” he mutters. “Strip me,” he says more firmly as he rips my leggings and panties down my legs.
I step out of everything, including my shoes, as I fumble with the button of his jeans before it finally pops through the little hole. I waste no time unzipping and shoving them down, catching his boxers with mythumbs as I do. He clumsily kicks off his tennis shoes before using his feet to get his pants the rest of the way off. Never once do his hands leave my waist.
Once he’s completely naked, his attention shifts back to me as he picks me up and places me back on the workbench. His thumb shifting back and forth on my skin sends a wave of longing through me.
Even though he’s right here, even though we’re doing this, it doesn’t change things outside of sex. I wish we could cut to the end where we’ve somehow made it through all the work we need to put in, all the hurt, and come out the other side together like we always should have been.
But I don’t want to focus on that. I want to focus on the heat turning his brown eyes nearly black. The tension in his muscles tells me he’s barely restraining himself.
“Fuck me,” I whisper, and it’s like the tether snaps.
His body engulfs mine as his lips crush against mine. I feel him everywhere, and yet it’s not enough. My short nails dig into his ribcage, right where the tattoo is, pulling him impossibly closer.
One hand on my ass, he yanks me to the edge of the bench where I feel the fingers of his other hand slip down to my pussy. As he circles my clit a few times, I moan into his mouth, grinding my hips against his hand.
I want more. I want it all.
A pinch to the clit sends a jolt through me, making me pull back from our kiss and narrow my eyes at him.
He licks his lower lip with a smirk on his face, and my mind screams,Danger!
Two fingers glide through the wetness already building before pushing inside of me. My head tilts back on another moan.
“Eyes on me, Marina. I won’t ask again.”
My head jerks up as he pulls his fingers out. I whimper at the loss, on the verge of begging, when the hand on my ass squeezes tight and I feel his cock notch at my entrance.
My breathing is erratic with anticipation, but he just stares at me, making me wait.
“Arlo…” I breathe.
His hips shove forward until he’s fully seated, and his jaw is clenched. My hands move up to cup it, and he looks deep into my eyes as he stands stock still.
Everything shifts at that moment. I see things I thought were impossible for so long, a future I had given up on.
His head tips forward, resting against mine.
“You’re mine. You’ve always been mine, and you will always be mine. I don’t care what it takes to get there. I will do it all.” He grinds against me, making me whimper. “Say it, Emmerdeur. Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, Arlo,” I whisper. His eyes close as his hips flex.
His eyes open, and I can tell immediately the switch has flipped. Sweet, almost unsure Arlo is nowhere to be found.
And I am so ready for it.
He pulls all the way out before thrusting deep inside of me. The friction is everything as I feel my orgasm building. The grip on my ass tightens, and I know there’ll be little fingerprint bruises there tomorrow.
His very own mark on me.
His pace picks up, and I’m lost in pure feeling. The tingle in my toes. The heartbeat in my clit begging to be touched. The warmth of his breath on my neck as he bites that tender spot where my shoulder starts.
I cry out at the same time as I feel his hand shove in between us, wedged with no way to move, but it doesn’t matter. The tip of his finger presses down on my clit with perfect precision, and I detonate.
The whooshing in my ears makes everything sound far away, but I vaguely hear my screams as I come.
“That’s it, Emmerdeur, come all over me,” Arlo grunts through my orgasm haze.
