Page 113 of Dead Vengeance

“I couldn’t help it,” I plead. “You’re too much. You’re driving me crazy.”

“I’m just getting started with you,” he whispers. He drops one soft kiss on my lips, then pulls back just far enough for me to watch him sink two fingers deep into his mouth.

Fuck. Fuck. What’s he going to do with those fingers? Fuck!

His one hand stays locked over my wrists, his face remains so close to mine, but his other hand sinks down, and with zero prelude, he pushes one finger inside. His eyes never leave my face. I feel his burning gaze devouring me, even as my eyes roll back in my skull. I arch uncontrollably, his palm cups my tight balls, warm and gorgeous, and just for a second, my dick thrusts up against his.

Fuck, I can feel how wet he is, dripping for me. He’s so turned on right now, and that turns me on even more. Who knew that was possible?

Everything about this is too good to be real. Archer is… gorgeous. Archer is so into me. Me!

He pushes a second finger in, and my shouts are enough to wake the dead. It’s incoherent. Some combination of his name, me begging for more, for less, I don’t even know. Just begging Archer to be… Archer. To be here and to be mine and to be doing exactly what he’s doing.

I love the strength of him holding me. I love the control he has. I love how he’s watching me, drinking in every gasp and tremble.

“Fuck, Liam,” he rasps out. “Look at you. You’re all my wildest daydreams come to life.”

Oh, what is this man? The things he’s doing to me, and those words just pushed me over the edge.

I want him. I need him to hold me through this.

“Kiss me,” I finally manage. “Please kiss me.”

He releases me in a heartbeat. His arm slides beneath my neck, and both of mine wrap around him. I bring his body against mine, curling into him, chest to chest, kissing him, kissing him, harder and harder the wilder he drives me.

He’s fucking me harder now, fingers curling over my sweet spot with every thrust, and I am absolute putty in his arms. His kisses are all that’s grounding me. “Archer,” I cry out. My fingers dig into his skin, clawing at him, hoping I’ll leave marks he’ll see later and think of this. “Archer, fuck me. Please.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Please.”

“Liam…”

“Please… Mr Gravely…”

“Oh, fuck…” he sighs out.

He slips from my arms. He shifts down. And is he going to fuck me? Nothing but spit and a prayer? Do I even care?

Not in this state.

He moves down my body, and he’s still fucking me with his hand, and I’m grasping at the carpet, so ready for him, so needy for him.

Then his mouth slips over my cock and I’m gone.

The unexpected heat of him shoots through me, the tightness of his mouth, the firm suck.

I cry his name once as a warning, but it’s too late. Cum shoots out of me, the orgasm hitting me like a brick wall of ecstasy, all-encompassing, smothering me, drowning me, leaving me a shuddering mess as he makes me ride it out, fucking me to the end with his firm fingers, drinking me down, swallowing the lot.

And when I finally come back down to the floor of his office, when I finally focus hazy eyes on him, he’s got the most glorious, most smug smile on his face.

That’s discipline? Making me come in his mouth without even fucking me at all while I’m here on the floor begging for it?

I’ll show him.

thirty-four

Boyfriend