Alliance || 1 || ✔️ mature

31 | Archer

Your stretch marks are beautiful. And so are you. Stretch marks are normal in both men and women and so is cellulite (it's just a factor of growing and everybody has them) and can appear all over the body. I hope one day you learn to love them.

My hand tightens on the flesh of her ass, squeezing as if it'll give me some semblance of control but it's a false sense of security, my control completely snapped.

I cup her jaw in my palm, tilting her head back with the tip of my thumb, her head tapping against the mirror, the feel of her blood pumping under the pad of my fingers, pulse jumping.

A soft moan releases from her lips when I finally cover her lips with mine once more,

"Archer." She sighs, hands curling on my shoulders, pulling me into her body.

I don't reply, moving my hands to her hips and dragging her off of the counter, a gasp existing her lips before I place her on her feet, leaning down to seal her lips with mine, twisting us around.

"Walk." I murmur against her lips, groaning when she nips at my bottom one, dragging it into her mouth to suckle it, her feet beginning to walk backwards as I follow.

We walk under the door frame, and I stop, reaching over the back of my head to grab my wet shirt, slipping it over my head and letting it fall to the floor, Elle's hungry eyes traversing down my exposed chest.

I smirk, loving her attention. "You done?"

Her dark eyes travel slowly up my chest, dipping over my muscles and shoulders before finding mine, "No." She grins, the sight knocking against something in my chest, demanding I name the emotion.

I swallow, narrowing my eyes on her as she lifts a hand, twisting her finger in a slow circle and I raise my brows, turning slowly in spot so she can get the full one-eighty view.

I hold my breath as I feel her step closer, the heat of her hands skimming my spine, running over the faint scars littered across my flesh, fingertips memorising my skin.

"Elle?" I hush.

Her hand curls around my shoulder, settling on my pec, right above my heart.

"Archer." She murmurs, the whisper of her lips skimming my shoulder blade.

"What are we doing?"

She doesn't reply, her palm heating on my flesh as she moves it slowly to cover my nipple, fingers curling around it, she pinches it.

"Hey!" I yell, laughing and cover my nipples, turning to face the vixen of a woman.

She laughs, dancing backwards towards the bed, her face full of challenge.

My lips lift in a taunting grin, "Oh, you're going to pay for that."

She looks at me below her lashes as she takes a delicate seat on the end of her bed, "Can't wait." She grins, trying to hide her triumph by biting her lip slightly, the image causing my cock to harden more.

I stalk towards her, eyes dropping to her remaining clothes, "Take them off." I say roughly.

She does, hands slipping under the hem of her shorts and panties, being careful of her wound, dragging the wet material down her thighs before kicking them off her feet, the slap of them echoing in my pounding ears.

Her sports bra follows, and she lays back on the sheets, a slip of fabric pooling over her waist and chest, hiding her mauve nipples from sight.

Her hands run over the rumpled bedding, beckoning me closer.