“What are you doing to me, Archer Steele?” I whisper, my fingers threading through the strands of his hair, tugging as our lips collide, desperate and heated. His tongue plunges between my lips, devouring me, the kiss consuming everything. His hands roam over my skin, hot and demanding, sliding one strap of my shirt down, the silky fabric falling away.
I kiss him back, just as fiercely. My hands crawl up his arms, clutching at his shoulders, my fingers diving into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging hard enough to pull a groan from deep in his throat. Our tongues tangle, slow and deliberate, his lips firm but soft against mine. Finally, I’m tasting him, finally feeling the weight of his desire matched with my own.
“Archer,” I hum, his name slipping from my lips as he presses me against the kitchen table, the edge digging into my lower back, but I don’t care. He lifts me by the hips, setting me on the smooth, glossy wood, and my legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, locking him in place between my thighs.
Sweet Jesus, the way his body feels pressed against mine, his heat, his strength—it’s overwhelming. My heart pounds, desire flooding through me as I arch against him, my body begging for more, every nerve alight with need.
His lips move against mine again, more urgent this time, and I lose myself in the way he’s taking me apart piece by piece, kiss by kiss.
My hands fist around his hips, pulling him tighter against me, feeling the hard press of his cock rubbing against the delicate, aching flesh between my legs. His hands move with urgency, one sliding up my thigh and shoving at the flimsy fabric of my skirt. He clutches at the material, yanking it higher up my waist, shifting me so he fits perfectly between my legs at just the right angle.
Before I can even process the intensity of it all, my fingernails are digging into the rippled muscles of his back, my head fallingback against the wall as pleasure courses through me. I can’t stop it—the way my body moves, the way my hips grind against him, desperate for more. My throat is bared to him, and he takes advantage, his mouth finding my skin, his teeth grazing me with gentle nips while his tongue soothes the sting. Every press of his cock sends sparks through me, my body tightening, craving more of him.
The friction of his pants against me only heightens the tension, my eyelids fluttering shut as a slow, helpless moan slips from my lips. I bite down hard, trying to stifle the next groan that builds in my chest, but I can’t. My muscles clench around him, my whole body taut with need, and my heart races, every inch of me throbbing with longing.
My fingers tighten around his biceps, pulling at his hair as I ride the sensation of him through the thick fabric of his pants, grinding against him in perfect rhythm. I feel like I’m coming undone, the raw desire overwhelming me.
This man feels like pure fire beneath my hands, and I know, without a doubt, he’s the only one who can make me feel like this. Like I’m completely lost, and I don’t ever want to be found.
My body trembles, my muscles finally releasing the tension that had gripped me moments before. I let out a shaky breath, my eyes fluttering open as I try to catch my bearings. And then, there he is, standing right in front of me—frozen, his gaze locked on mine, his desire for me still burning bright and undeniable. A sudden wave of embarrassment floods me, coloring my cheeks. My mind scrambles for something to say, but the words are stuck, tangled up in the whirlwind of emotions I don’t even know how to process.
“I—I…” The words falter, and I feel my face flush even more. My breath hitches, and I can’t meet his eyes, mortified by the intensity of what just happened.
He steps closer, his hand coming up to gently cradle my jawline, his touch grounding me. “You're beautiful, Bella,” he says, his voice so calm, so steady, that it cuts right through my shame. “Watching you come is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I blink, and my heart stutters at the rawness of his statement. I bite my lip, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. My cheeks burn hotter as I nod, my body still trembling from the aftermath. But the shame floods in, faster and heavier than I expected. My eyes drop to the floor, unable to meet his gaze, and suddenly I feel so exposed, so vulnerable. The tears threaten to spill over as I push him away, needing space, needing to cover myself. I hop down from the table, fumbling with the fabric of my shirt, desperate to regain some sense of control.
But before I can pull myself together, he catches my wrist, stopping me. “Don’t do that, don’t shut down on me again.” His voice is firm, but there’s a gentleness there that makes me pause. “Don’t be ashamed of a single fucking thing with me. I want all of you. The beautiful parts, the messy parts, the sexy-as-hell parts, the emotional parts—I want it all.”
His words hit me, and I feel something inside me crack, like he’s breaking through the walls I’ve spent so long building. My eyes slowly lift to meet his, and he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing that matters. The intensity in his gaze is overwhelming, but it’s steady, reassuring, like he’s offering me a lifeline.
“It may take me years to prove it to you, but I want everything you have to offer,” he continues, his thumb brushing softly along my chin. “And I expect the same from you.”
I can’t speak, can’t move. All I can do is stare up at him, my heart pounding in my chest, my breath shallow. I’ve never felt so seen, so understood. I nod, unable to find my voice, but knowing that I want to give him everything he’s asking for.
But he’s not done. His fingers tilt my chin up slightly, his eyes holding mine with an intensity that makes my pulse race. “Say it,” he instructs, his voice low, commanding. “I need to hear you say it.”
I swallow hard, my throat tight with emotion. “I understand,” I whisper, my voice trembling, but the words feel real, feel right.
He releases a breath, his grip on me softening, and I feel like I’m standing on the edge of something huge—something terrifying and beautiful all at once. But for the first time, I’m ready to jump.
All morning I’ve been avoiding the intensity of his eyes, the pull they have on me, but now—now I can’t look away. It’s like something has shifted, something I’ve been trying to deny but can’t anymore. My heart races as the tension between us crackles, electric and undeniable.
My eyes flick down to his lips, still parted, still tempting, and I feel the ache of unsatisfied desire pulse through me, stronger than ever.
His smile is slow, predatory in a way that sends a shiver through me. “That’s a girl.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of my nose before his lips find mine, more insistent this time, more real. It’s a kiss that says everything we haven’t spoken yet, everything simmering beneath the surface.
I can’t help but laugh softly, even though my body is still thrumming with the release he gave me. He knows what he’s doing, knows the effect he has on me. Gone are the subtle hints, the cautious games we’ve been playing. Now there’s only the truth—he wants me, and I want him. There’s no denying it anymore.
He’s made it clear, and now, it’s only a matter of time. I feel it, deep down—the pull toward him, the way he’s slowly breaking through my defenses. The way I’m already falling, even if I’m not quite ready to admit it to myself yet.
But Archer... he knows. And I can see it in his eyes—he’s ready to take everything.
Chapter Ten
Archer
The private jet looks completely out of place against the rugged backdrop of Copper Mountain, its sleek lines cutting through the sky like a reminder of a world Bella thought she’d left behind. My fists tighten at my sides as I watch the plane descend. Of course, the guy thinks he can just show up, sweep her back into his life like none of this—like I—ever existed.
