Ten months on…

I wake up with gentle hands on my face, the bed dipping and a warm mouth grazing mine to bring me around from slumber in the darkness. His familiar scent and warm body encompasses mine and I know his touch instantly as my body wakes with excitement at his final appearance.

He smells so good, feels even better, rousing me from sleep and my heart rejoices that he’s back with me once more. I have pined for him so much this time. It’s been unbearable

My perfect Arry.

“Hey, beautiful. God, I missed you so much.” He breathes, tone sexy, kissing me softly, hands gliding over me in the bed easily as he gets as much skin on skin contact as possible and I wrap myself around him too. Sinking into that seductive kiss and erupting with tingles, a sense of completion that he’s finally home with me. That security, longing, and wholeness that only he can give me, flooding back beautifully. The days of feeling alone and fragile disperse with one touch and the past weeks seem to instantly erase.

He’s been gone for three whole weeks this time; every trip back to New York is achingly lonesome, seems to drag more every time, and he always comes home tired and wiped out. The trips back and forth are so frequent nowadays I barely see him, and moments like this are all I live for.

Nothing much has improved in Paris, not that he knows the half of it. He shoulders so many burdens already and I never had the heart to tell him that school has never gotten any better for me.

“I missed you more.” I whisper against his face as his nose rubs against mine. So hard to see him in the pitch black of our bedroom, but his touch is everything I love and need. So familiar, safe, and gentle. He can still make my skin burn so effortlessly that I cling to him, wanting nothing more than for him to be around me and inside of me every second that I get to have him here again.

The kiss deepens as he slides over the top of me, holding himself on strong arms as he maneuvers his body between my thighs. Stopping to rest on one hand as he pulls my nightdress off in one easy fluid tug and I can already feel he’s naked too. Wasting no time in getting in bed to wake me up because we have been apart for far too long and internet calls don’t make up for it. We start to kiss, bodies hitting an all-time instant searing heat to be reunited and even though neither says it, we both know sex is the first thing on our agenda.

We are quick to work each other up into a frenzy amid passionate kissing, hands and nails tracing each other’s skin and bodies. Grinding, teasing, nibbling, and sucking from both sides.

morning light breaking quickly, making the room hazy and grey now so that we can make out each other in the gloom. Bodies moving in unison, moaning, and clinging to him as intense pleasure overtakes my

of me, body fitting to body as he breathes against my neck huskily, snuggling in so we have full contact, although his speech seems a little slurred with tiredness, pushing on yet his rhythm seems to be slowing down. With his face buried in the pillows beside my head, his body weight starts having more of an impact on top of me as he cuddles me close than it normally does, in fact, he is slowly getting heavier. Alarmingly so, and I wonder what the hell is going on. I’m surely getting pinned to the bed as he comes so obviously to a complete stop, after only seconds of slower and slower thrusting. Silence in the room intensifies and it becomes painfully clear he’s

breathing which instantly angers me. Arry has fallen asleep, both on top of me and inside of me in the middle of reunion sex and I’m immediately outraged. Like a massive jolt to the heart which bruises my feelings. Hurt and temper both gripping my stomach as tears prick my eyes in a

what the actual hell! How can you be crazy turned on

snap at him, jerking with all my might under him so I at least make his body shift and slide to the side enough that the fright wakes him up. I’m

as he rolls onto his back beside me and rubs his face, getting a shove in his side from me in huffiness as I pull the sheets back to me and silently hate on him. Chest tight and stomach aching with broken

just quietly snoring on top

rub his face, trying to wake himself up and leans out to lay a hand on me, which I slap away. Prickly with wounded

away from him, so he cannot see how much this has hurt me. His hand comes to rest on my hip over the bed clothes, but I try and

like I never see him anymore and he’s always tired from the constant jet lag and commuting. Last time he was home only four days between two long trips and it’s killing me. Yet in all

you, baby. I’m so god damn exhausted. Just give me a few minutes to

I turn and watch him walk nakedly off, looking as sexy as he always does, yet I just feel sad and broken up. He has no

and our intimacy and closeness is dwindling. Arrick doesn’t seem to see it though, like right now, his normally intuitive caring self has completely missed that I’m upset and crying. He is a walking

What happened to us?

Corp, and his family, all pulling him every which way and I’m here keeping my head on my studies, easier to detach myself from people when I focus on my goal. I go home less often, maybe a tiny snippet compared to him, because I literally do not have that much free time. School is demanding, and the weekends are usually filled with functions

at the ceiling, body still tingling from his attentions, skin warmed and goose bumped even though we barely got started. I curl myself up protectively and try to calm the war of emotions inside of

all of them rallying together constantly. Some takeover of a competitive brand that is partnering up and the last nine months have been nothing but a wave of Carrero connected trips. His fight career is stable, his title as champion secure, so he has cut to three or four fights a year right now. He barely has time to train now either and it’s making him restless. I never realized how much of that calm and smooth demeanor relied on his ability to punch out his trainer in the

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