In Her Arms
HARDIN'S POV
The office was quiet, save for the low hum of fluorescent lights and the faint sound of fingers against a keyboard.
Her fingers.
Ariana sat behind her desk, hair pinned in a loose bun that had half-fallen apart, strands curling around her face like tendrils of a storm she was trying to contain. Her blouse was slightly rumpled, and she hadn’t even heard me come in.
God, she looked tired.
And beautiful.
Her back was straight, her brow slightly furrowed as she read whatever was on the screen, lips pursed in concentration. A queen mid-battle. And she didn’t even know I was standing at the door, watching her like she was the only damn thing in the universe that made sense.
I let myself smile, stepping inside.
“Working late, babe?”
She blinked, startled at first. Then her eyes lifted—and just like that, her whole face softened.
“Hardin,” she breathed, voice barely above a whisper but soaked in relief.
She stood up slowly, like the exhaustion was finally registering, like her body remembered it was allowed to relax now. Her lips curved into that smile that undid me every single time.
“You came,” she said.
“I always do,” I murmured, walking toward her.
She crossed the space between us faster than I expected and wrapped her arms around me like she hadn’t seen me in years. Her body pressed tight against mine, head tucked under my chin, and just like that, the world went quiet.
I held her. Breathed her in. That familiar mix of perfume and coffee and something warm that was just… her.
“You okay?” I asked gently, rubbing my palm along her back. “You look—”
“Tired?” she said, pulling back to meet my eyes.
I cupped her face. “No. You look like you’ve been carrying too much. Again.”
She sighed, and her hands slid up my chest, fingers curling in the collar of my shirt.
“I am okay,” she said, voice soft, “now that you’re here.”
Her lips found mine before I could respond, kissing me like she meant it. Like she needed it.
God, I’d missed her.
I kissed her back, deep and slow, letting the rest of the night peel away. The Beatrice bullshit. The board meetings. The weight of running empires. None of it mattered here. Not with her.
She pulled me toward her desk, spinning me around and pushing me gently into the chair. I raised a brow as she straddled my lap, her skirt riding high on her thighs, those eyes locked on mine like I was hers to ruin.
And I was.
“Easy there, tigress,” I said with a smirk, hands automatically finding her waist, then her ass, gripping tight.
She leaned in close, her breath warm against my cheek. “Don’t tell me you’re tired,” she whispered, grinding against me with slow, dangerous precision.
My cock responded immediately, thickening beneath her as I hissed through my teeth.
“Tired? Not anymore,” I muttered, my hands roaming her curves. But then I slowed, really looking at her.
Her eyes were still holding something back. A flicker. A shadow behind the heat.
I touched her cheek again. “Hey. Talk to me. Something’s wrong.”
Her lips curved, teasing—but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m fine, Hardin.”
“You’re not.”
She bit my lower lip, then sucked it between her teeth, making me groan. “I promise I’ll tell you everything. Just… not yet. Let me have this first.”
I sighed. I hated when she did this—when she locked the storm inside and smiled like nothing was wrong.
But I also knew her.
She’d tell me. When she was ready.
So I nodded, brushing my lips across her forehead. “Okay. I’m here.”
And then I kissed her again.
Slower this time.
Deeper.
She moaned into my mouth, her body grinding against me with more urgency, her hands tugging my shirt from my waistband and sliding underneath, nails dragging up my stomach.
My hands moved to her blouse, undoing the buttons one by one until the soft lace of her bra peeked through. I kissed down her neck, tasting salt and skin and stress, until her blouse hung open, her breath hitching as I pulled the lace aside and took her nipple into my mouth.
“Fuck,” she whispered, her back arching as she held my head there, fingers tangled in my hair.
I sucked gently, then with more pressure, my tongue circling the hardened peak until her hips started moving again, that needy rhythm grinding against the growing pressure in my pants.
“God, I love your mouth,” she moaned.
I pulled back, looking up at her. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
In one swift move, I stood up, lifting her with me and placing her gently on the desk. Papers scattered. Her laptop slid to the side. She gasped as the cold wood touched her thighs, but I was already kneeling, pushing her skirt up around her waist.
Her panties were soaked.
I looked up at her and grinned. “Guess I’m not the only one having a hard night.”
“You’re such a cocky bastard,” she breathed, but her legs parted anyway.
“Yours,” I said simply.
And then I buried my face between her thighs.
Her fingers clawed at the desk as my tongue found her clit, slow at first, just teasing, tasting. She was wet, warm, sweet. I moaned into her, loving the way her breath hitched and her hips bucked, chasing the pressure.
I slid two fingers inside her, curling them just right as my tongue worked faster, harder. Her cries echoed off the walls, and I didn’t stop until she was shaking, thighs clenching around my head, body unraveling.
“Hardin—”
“Shhh,” I said, licking her clean. “I’m not done.”
I stood, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, then unbuckled my belt with practiced ease. Her eyes were wide and hungry as she watched me free my cock—hard, thick, ready—and I stepped between her legs again.
I kissed her as I lined up, swallowing the sound she made as I pushed in, slow and deep.
“Fuck,” I growled, my hands gripping her hips. “You feel so good.”
She clung to me, her nails digging into my back, her lips against my ear. “Don’t stop.”
“Never,” I whispered.
And then I started to move.
Slow at first, savoring the feel of her. Her gasps. Her heat. The way her body molded to mine, taking me deeper every time.
We moved together like we were made for it. Her hands in my hair, my lips on her neck. I kissed her throat, her collarbone, her mouth—trying to memorize every sound she made.
“You’re everything,” I murmured. “You know that?”
She moaned in response, wrapping her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper.
“You’re mine,” she whispered.
“Always,” I said.
The desk creaked beneath us, the room filled with the sound of skin and breath and desperate whispers. She rocked against me, matching my pace, grinding her hips to meet every thrust. I could feel her getting close again, her muscles tightening around me, her body trembling.
“Come for me,” I said against her lips. “I want to feel you fall apart.”
She did—with a cry that ripped through her chest, her head thrown back, her body clenching around me like she never wanted to let go.
And I lost it.
I came with a groan, burying myself deep inside her, kissing her through it, our bodies shaking together.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Heavy breathing. Heartbeats pounding against each other.
I held her close, brushing her hair from her face as I pressed kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips.
“You okay now?” I whispered.
She nodded against my shoulder. “I just… needed to feel close to you.”
I kissed her again, softer this time. “You don’t have to ask for that. You never do.”
Her arms wrapped tighter around my neck, and she pressed her face into my chest like she didn’t want to be anywhere else.
And I knew the moment was bigger than the sex.
It always was, with her.
This wasn’t just lust. This was a refuge. A promise. A silent way of saying, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.
I helped her down gently, adjusting her skirt, buttoning her blouse with tender fingers. She smiled at that, brushing her thumb over my jaw.
“You’re being sweet,” she teased.
I kissed her again, resting my forehead against hers. “I love you.”
She blinked, then smiled wide. “I love you too.”
We stood there for a while—two overworked people finding peace in each other, in a quiet office that had seen too much stress and not enough love.
Eventually, I pulled her into my arms again. “Now tell me what happened tonight.”
Her body tensed slightly, but she nodded.
And I knew—whatever it was—we’d face it together.
Like we always did.
Like we always would.
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