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Finally he stilled, resting his forehead on my chest, his warm breath washing along my breasts as we both panted and gasped for air. I lifted a hand and tunneled my fingers in his short hair, the strands damp at the temple. He kissed one of my breasts, then moved over and gave the other a gentle press of his lips. It seemed so intimate, maybe even more so than what we’d just shared.
I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, with Arlo still semihard inside me, but my ass had since gone numb and I didn’t care one bit. I’d never felt so alive and content before.
He lifted for me and pulled out, and instantly I felt our combined fluids start to come out of me on a warm trickle. Arlo was looking between my thighs, and I went to close them with embarrassment, knowing he could see his cum slipping from me, but he stilled me with his hands on my knees.
“No,” he whispered gruffly and leaned in to press a kiss to my clit, pulling a sharp gasp from me. I felt his finger move along my entrance as he said, “How sore are you?”
I swallowed and took a few breaths before I answered. “Just a little.”
“I bet.” He kept gently rubbing along my entrance, gave my clit another kiss, and then I felt him push his cum back into my body. “I fucked you hard.” I tried to stifle my moan, but it came out regardless. “I belong right in here.” He lifted just his eyes to my face as he stayed between my thighs. “Always.”
I found myself nodding before I could take in his words fully.
He stood, and I didn’t fight him or complain when he lifted me into his embrace, my legs over his arm, my side to his chest, and my head on his shoulder. He held me gently, as if he cherished me. I closed my eyes and settled my weight against him, aching and sore between my thighs, the chill in the air and the experience we’d just shared causing goose bumps to skate along my arms and legs.
Arlo laid me on the bed and adjusted me so he could pull the blanket over my nude body. And then he was slipping in beside me and pulling me close, the warmth of his bare skin on mine pushing away all the coldness I’d felt and any worry or uncertainty that would have made itself known until there was only euphoria.
For long minutes we didn’t speak, but I didn't know what we could have said. We spoke with our bodies and said so much during that time that I felt like I knew all I needed to about Arlo without him having to ever say a single syllable. I reached out for his hand that rested on his abdomen. I twined my fingers through his, staring at the contrast, how his hand was so much bigger than mine, his fingers so much longer.
His skin was a dark, golden hue compared to my pale complexion. He was strong where I’d always been weak. He was fearless where I’d always been afraid of what was lurking over my shoulder.
“I’m going after them, Galina,” he said, his voice deep and wrapping around me like another blanket of protection.
I closed my eyes because I knew who he was talking about. He’d already killed Leonid, even if he hadn’t said the words. I knew he was trying to protect me further. I’d never told him Henry’s full name, never told him where he could be found, but I also knew if Arlo wanted to find someone, he didn’t need me to accomplish that. He had resources I could never comprehend at his fingertips.
I thought about this man who held me so closely, who ran his fingers along my spine, always touching me, as if it centered him like it did me.
Arlo promised he’d make it safe for me, and that meant he was going to Vegas and after Henry. I knew without a doubt Arlo would kill him.
“I don’t want any vengeance, Arlo.” I rested my head on his chest and trailed my fingers over one of his many tattoos. I could see scars littering his flesh under that dark ink.
He stayed silent for long seconds before finally saying, “I’m going to make it safe for you, even if I have to kill everyone to make that reality.” His arm around me tightened as if he needed to know I was still here.
“You don’t have to ask for or need or want my vengeance, Galina. You have that from me without fail. You had it from the very beginning.”
I should’ve been afraid of him, but I wasn't, and I knew I would never have cause to be. Talking him out of anything, especially something like this that caused the man who was clearly born out of blood and violence to latch on to like a starving beast, would have been like trying to break up two fighting dogs.
