Page 70 of Hard to Judge

“But she is your?—”

“And you are mine.” He grabs my face and pulls me forward. “Aren’t you?”

I show my teeth. Still, it’s true. There’s no fighting it.

“Say it, while you still can,” he demands, but there’s an edge of pleading in his voice.

“Maybe,” I hedge.

He paints my lips with his precum, making me face the truth. “Tell me.”

“Make me.”

Arlo pries my jaw open and feeds me his dick while mine weeps.

The blunt head hits the back of my throat, and I angle to accommodate him. “Hota,” he whines. His arms shake with restraint.

I grab them and plant them in my hair. My fingers sink into his ass and pull his hips forward. I take him all the way to the base and hold him there. I breathe him in through my nose and swallow, squeezing him with my throat.

His hands clamp down, tugging my scalp.

I groan into his lap and nuzzle my face against his skin. Disbelief makes me dizzy.

Arlo shifts his hips, getting even closer. His groan is desperate, but too soon, he pulls me off. “Not yet.” He pushes me back and to the side so I’m lying on the Italian leather. He hoists my feet onto the other end, then climbs on top of me.

Tears prick my eyes, and I try to breathe through it. But this…This has been my fucking dream for forever. To feel his weight on me. To feel his skin against mine.

Our dicks press together.

“Oh fuck.” He buries his face in my neck and squeezes me so tight.

For so long, he doesn’t move a muscle. Fear creeps in. I know he’s going to jump up any second now, and this will be the end. The end before the beginning.

“Are you okay?” I whisper the words because I’m terrified I already know the answer.

Arlo levers back, bringing our faces so close that I blink at his features. He nods, and a hint of red stains his cheeks.

“What?” I breathe.

“Just trying not to come from contact.” His Adam’s apple bobs.

My entire body relaxes.

“It was really fucking hard.”

The corners of my mouth kick up, and I let my gaze fall to where our hips meet. “I’ll say.”

“I’m still pretty new to all this.” Vulnerability dances in his eyes.

I lift my hands and trail them along the edge of his face. “In so many ways, I am too.”

“I want to fucking kiss you right now.”

I nod but hold his face in place. “I don’t know that either of us are ready for that.”

“I’m ready,” he assures me.

I want to believe him more than anything. The years have been long, and the rejection, though not meant to hurt me, did. It does.

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