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He unties my bottoms as I help lower his shorts. I slide down on his cock and slowly ride him. Every ounce of anxiety leaves my body when he kisses me. The friction between us builds hot and fast, melting all the stress away.
When we’re both sated and relaxed, we climb into bed and snuggle.
“This might be a presumptuous question only six months into our relationship, and I know we discussed getting a dog, but do you see yourself wanting children in the future?” I ask as he holds me in his arms.
“I love kids and hope it’s in my cards. Before prison, I was certain I could never provide a good enough life to have a family…”
“And now?” I prompt.
Archer flashes a sweet smile. “I have hope now.”
“I’ve seen you with Owen and the babies. No doubt you’d be a great father.”
“Well, playing with someone else’s kids and raising your own is alittledifferent,” he says.
“That’s true. Right now, I get to be the cool, fun aunt. Meanwhile, their parents have to worry about college funds and their futures.”
“But you want that eventually?”
I exhale and grin. “Yeah. I’d love to be a mom. I’ll never neglect my kids like my mother did, but the fear of not being good enough has entered my brain a time or two.”
Archer places his palm over my stomach. “I love the thought of you carrying my baby someday. I have no doubt you’d be the best mother.”
“You say things like that, and I’m gonna beg you to knock me up right now.”
He releases a choke-laugh and shakes his head. “Tyler just got used to us being together. Let’s not give him a stroke. Or me, for that matter.”
I chuckle, swinging my leg over him and sink deeper into the mattress. “Alright, fine. I like having you to myself anyway. I don’t wanna share you just yet.”
He grabs one of my breasts and squeezes. “Same.”
The next morning, I wake up to Archer bringing me coffee and breakfast in bed. We spend most of the day lounging, walking around outside, and cooking. It’s the most chill day I’ve had in months.
“Are you ready for Raphaël to give you the best massage you’ve ever had?” Archer says in a half-assed French accent.
I burst out laughing when he leads me into our room and motions for me to lay on the bed.
“Raphaël? Are you my porn fantasy come to life?”
“Yes, madame. At your service.”
The lights are dimmed, and there’s spa music playing from his phone. It smells like he sprayed some lavender mist too. There’s a thick white towel on top of the covers, and after I remove my robe and lie on my back, I realize it’s warm.
“Did you put this in the dryer?” I ask, impressed.
“Of course, only the best for you, chérie.”
I can’t contain my smile as I think about the effort Archer put into making this a relaxing experience for me. Earlier, he drew me a hot bubble bath and streamed classical music while he set up everything. I thought it was sweet, but this is beyond my expectations. No one has ever done anything like this for me.
“I’m gonna place this hot cloth over your eyes. Keep your arms by your sides at all times unless I move them,” he orders. I have a feeling that’s going to be harder than it sounds.
Once my eyes are covered, I try to release all the tension in my shoulders. Archer has complete control over my body, and I find satisfaction in that.
Archer slathers lotion between his palms. I anticipate the coldness once he touches me, but it doesn’t come. He must’ve warmed up the bottle beforehand. His calloused hands roam over my thighs, and the rough texture feels incredible against my skin. Archer digs his thumb and fingers into my muscles, carefully massaging his way down my leg.
“Madame, you feel tense. We need to loosen you up,” he states softly. I smile at his attempt at a French accent but secretly love it.
“Yes, please. Loosen me all the way up, sir.”
