Page 115 of Look, Don't Touch

His fat head breaches my body.

My pants are so loud and fast, I might pass out. My hips arch off the bed, seeking every glorious inch.

He invades me slowly, completely, as though making it known that I’m conquered. His hips flex, seating himself inside me fully.

“I am yours, Hailey.” His mouth covers mine, regulating my breathing.

Stupid tears slip from my eyes. My insides go all squishy. I wrap my arms around him and hold him tight. His hips withdraw slowly, then push forward even slower.

“Yours,” he snarls.

“Mine,” I moan. The gentle touch is so different than I’m used to. His bare skin slides against mine, in me, and coaxes my orgasm to the surface with each measured pull. “Arlo, oh God.” I grab at his back, pulling him closer, arching higher. The striations of his corded abdomen strum my swollen clit. “Yes, please. Mine.”

“Yours.” He shoves deep, so deep. His hips jerk, and I come on his cock.

Shocking warmth spreads through me. My eyes pop open, and I find him looking at me, at where our bodies are joined. Cum coats the base of his cock.

That was fast, and we only have each other to blame.

My nipples go hard at the sight of our hasty ardor. “Fuck.” I gasp. “I’ve never been more turned on than I am right now. See us, feeling us.”

“Coated in desire?” He juts his hips forward, mashing the slick heat against the lips of my pussy.

“Yes.”

“Good.” He nips a line across my collarbone and across my breasts. “In just a minute, I’ll fill you up again. When I do, I want you to give me one more.”

“Yes.” My moan turns into a squeal as he flicks my nipples and tweaks them between his thumb and forefinger. His weight pulses deep in my cunt, and I squeeze him with my muscles.

He groans.

I’ve never felt more powerful.

His hands bracket my middle, and he levers up over me. The fans of his lashes are wet, telling me I’m not the only one on this emotional ride.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Hailey.”

He eases back and rams hard, stealing my breath for a response. All I can manage is a gasp. His abdomen stretches and flexes with each withdrawal and thrust. They grow in tempo and force. His grip tightens around my middle in an effort to keep me close.

It’s not enough. I’m jutted up the bed with each snap of his hips.

He leans forward, snakes his arms up my back, and clamps onto my shoulders from behind. His hips hammer back and forth, spreading our cum over his cock and slicking it over my pussy.

The sounds that come out of us are barely human. We sound more like the animals inked into my body, which ratchets my desperation for him even more. He is my beast, and he’s marking my body as his.

“Fuck me. Mark me. Please, Arlo.”

He slams into me, stealing my breath as I come apart in his arms. His grip holds me together, and his cum fills me to overflowing.

“Mine, Hailey.” I nod my agreement. “You’re mine.”

His heart slams against mine as though it’s trying to convey a message via Morse code.

I think I know what it’s saying because mine is saying the same.

“Are you okay?”

I pause halfway between my desk and the bathroom and swing my gaze over my shoulder, careful not to shift my torso. Nat’s head is canted. Her brow is crinkled. I’ve just finished with my last patient before lunch, and I really need to pee, and grab an ice pack for my crotch and a nap if I can swing it.

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