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He’s been trying to get inside for ten minutes now.
It skids across her flesh, and she can feel it run across her thigh, leaving a trail of slick pre in its wake.
By the fifth time he tries to enter, Mara stops him completely.
“Something wrong, Arthur?”
“No, jus’... tryin’ a new technique is all,” his voice is strained, and he’s focused on what’s going on beneath the sheets instead.
Mara snorts, and he can’t help the blush that creeps up his face to the tips of his ears.
”Something tells me this isn’t how you do it,” she replies, smiling good-naturedly.
”Well, it’s never been like this before,” he mumbles, borrowing his brow as he tries to push the tip inside, then it slips out and slides across her clit, earning a sharp gasp from her.
Glancing up, he’s about to apologize before Mara interrupts him.
”You’re alright, Arthur. It’s fine,” she reassures him, carding her fingers through his hair as she murmurs comforting words.
He abandons any attempt to get inside her, and sits up, no longer fully erect, but only a gentle swell between his hairy thighs.
Mara presses her lips into a frown, sighing softly. Just as he’s about to leave, she grabs his wrist.
”We don’t have to do this, you know. We could just lay here, you and me,” she offers, gently tugging him back to her.
”I wanted this,” Arthur grumbles, brows knitted together, ”I wanted you. Still do.”
With a sigh, he runs his fingers through his hair as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed. Mara soon follows, moving to sit beside him.
”I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I got everything I want right in front of me and I still find a way to fuck everything up.”
His hands are drawn into tight fists, and his brows are tightly pinched together, sporting a stony appearance now.
She reaches out and touches his face, turning him towards her. He tries not to look her in the eye, choosing to become enamoured with her lips instead.
”I know how difficult it must be for you, but you have to understand that you’ve been under a lot of stress these past few months,” her thumb idly brushes over a scar on his chin, and he finally looks her in the eye. ”But you’re going to have to accept the fact that you’re never going to be whole again, not after how you’ve been treated.”
His look falters, and suddenly Arthur finds himself ever so slightly leaning into her touch.
”Nothing is ever going to replace the happiness you had while being in that gang,” she says. ”Nothing is ever going to get it back. Not you, or me, or even John. Hell, having Dutch and Micah’s heads served to you on a silver platter isn’t going to replace it. But so long as you accept that, and let yourself suffer through this, then you can finally begin to heal.”
Giving him a pat on the back, she moves to lay back down.
Surprisingly enough, Arthur finds himself following her, almost as if he was chasing her touch.
He settles himself on top of her, between her legs with his cheek resting on her sternum, listening to her heartbeat.
”I’m proud of you, Arthur,” Mara finally says, and she lightly rakes her nails against his scalp, the sensation causing goosebumps to bloom upon his skin.
”It took a lot of courage to walk away from them,” she continues, ”it took even more to get everyone out and away from them. You’re stronger than you think, and I admire that about you.”
He folds his arms around her lithe frame and squeezes her for just a moment, almost as if he was reassuring himself that she was real, that she was there with him.
Cradling him close to her chest, she pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
Even though he was scarred and toughened through his years of gang life, there was a certain vulnerability he felt around Mara. Yet for some reason, she never made him feel weak, never belittled him, best of all, she never tried to pin him as a hero, or a ”good man”. She saw him as a human being, an equal. Not someone to use, then cast aside when she had her fill.
With her, he finally felt loved for once in his life.