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Arlo takes my hand again, leading me around to sit on the couch with him. It’s huge, and plush, and so freaking comfortable. I sink into it, running my hands over the soft dark green suede, making patterns with my fingertips.
“You like it?” he asks as he lowers himself beside me.
Again, I nod. “It’s nice.”
He grins. “She speaks! I thought I’d broken you.” He chuckles.
“Nah, I was just thinkin’. Give me the cream,” I say, holding my hand out.
He passes it over, then leans back, pointing to the reddest area where the coffee made contact. “It’s mainly just this spot here that’ll need it.”
Kicking off my Chucks, I bring my legs up beneath me and shuffle over to his side.
Arlo places a hand on my thigh, his eyes meeting mine before he says, “Throw it over. Better access…?” He smirks, and I grin, then lift my leg to straddle him. “That’s better,” he murmurs, his hands wrapping around my hips.
He’s not wrong. I like his touch. A lot.
Unscrewing the cap on the ointment, I squeeze out a glob. Then, as gently as possible, I smooth it over the slightly bumpy, dark red patch of skin. He hisses out a breath, and his fingers tense, digging into my hips.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” he says. “I’m not sorry about any of it. And I don’t want you to be either.”
My eyes flick up to his chocolatey browns. If eyes are the windows to the soul, then his are wide open. His sincerity shines up at me, and I smile. His hands skate up my sides, his thumbs making a quick swipe under my breasts, and I lean into his touch. Tossing the tube of cream aside, I brace my hands on his shoulders, careful not to brush against his sore chest.
He rests his head against the back of the couch, tipping his face up for me as I close the space between our mouths. This time I lead, and he seems content to let me. His palms continue to glide along my sides, my back, then under the hem of my flannel shirt, making me shiver at the contact.
I tilt my head, changing the angle as I slide my tongue against his, my hips rolling into him. He feels so good under me. I trace my fingers along his shoulders, to his neck, then up into his hair and fist it when I feel him harden beneath me.
“Fuuuck, Kida,” he groans into my mouth, thrusting his hips.
My heart hammers in my chest, and one of his hands leaves my skin, wrapping around the braid hanging down my back. He tugs it, forcing me to break our kiss, my neck arching as he swoops in, his hot mouth on my throat as he thrusts again.
My body lights up like never before. Nobody has ever been rough with me, too afraid of my sisters. But not Arlo. And I love it. My fists tighten, gripping his hair harder, and I meet his next thrust. He growls then flips me, pressing my back into the plush cushion as he hovers over me, my legs hooked around his lower back.
“Is this okay?” he asks as he grinds his length into me.
I nod frantically.
His mouth crashes against mine again, one hand braced by my head, the other squeezing my ass. I whimper into the kiss, locking my ankles to hold his body close.
We dry hump like teenagers, and it feels fucking amazing.
Every thrust and grind takes me higher. I slip my hands around his sides, touching every available inch of skin I can reach without going near the sore spots.
“Arlo,” I pant when his mouth leaves mine to suck on my throat. “This is happening… way too fast… but… if you stop… I’ll kill you. I need—”
“I know what you need,” he says, letting his full weight settle between my legs, rolling his hips with purpose. He sucks my earlobe into his hot mouth, then groans in a husky tenor that has my insides clenching. “Now, how are you going to let me give it to you, Kida? Just like this, while I imagine sinking my dick inch by inch in and out of your sweet little pussy?”
Thank you, Jesus. He’s a dirty talker!
I whimper and he licks a line down my throat, then back up again.
I can feel his smile against my sensitive skin, then he moans. “Or maybe you want me to use my lips, my teeth, and my tongue? Is that how you want to come? In my mouth while I lick, suck, and pinch your clit?”
Holy shit. My thighs tense, and I claw at his ass, digging my heels in, urging him on. “Don’t stop,” I cry out.
“Not until you come, Keeds. What do you need? Do you need my fingers? Want me to pull down these jeans and your underwear then dip my fingers inside your wet heat? Pump them inside this pretty pussy until you’re dripping down my hand?”
