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We bump into the bed and fall into it.
“You have a problem—you come talk to me, Kat. Not Marlow or anyone else.” He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me flush against him.
My brain is fuzzy from his words and his touches and this sudden hope that’s bursting out of me.
“You are mad—you let me know. Upset—tell me.” He kisses me hard again.
“Yes,” I blurt somewhere in between.
We are a hot mess as we rub against each other, finally naked, finally loose, pulling and tugging.
“You are happy—you tell me. I want to know it all, Kat.” He kicks my legs apart and adjusts himself between my them.
“Ssssso happy right now.” Wet face. Wet pussy. Look at me.
“Yeah?” He sheathes into me, and I moan a desperate, “Yeah.”
He starts thrusting, and I’m a happy mess.
“Yes,” I murmur, falling apart under him with a muffled moan.
19
KAT
I’m a taker,remember? But at this moment, I let Archer take what he wants. I’m always there for a ride, but this time, I want to give, ease his moments of sadness, and be with him when he really needs it.
Archer’s hands slide in my hair as he kisses me like he’s staking his claim inside me. Heisinside me, and I want to take control, ride him, take what’s mine. Heismine, but I want to let go.
We are a tangle of limbs and a furnace of feelings. He is fucking me like he hates me, like he wants to hurt me, though I know better. My thighs fall open to let him in deeper, and I still can’t get enough. We kiss like there’s a fight over whose tongue belongs in whose mouth. Archer pounds into me, and it feels deliciously good.
It’s a physical-release fuck.
An emotions-drain fuck.
A we-haven’t-talked-forever-and-need-to-blow-off-steam fuck.
A remember-how-this-feels fuck.
An I’m-yours-and-you’re-mine-so-stop-the-bullshit fuck.
He doesn’t say a word, just groans, that animalistic sound mixing with my whimpers and gasps because it feels so good to have him and I don’t want to hold back. We are a mess of sloppy kisses, greedy hands gripping each other, teeth grazing, thighs slapping together until we are both spent, panting as we fall onto our backs.
We lie splayed on the bed, next to each other, staring at the ceiling for some time. My heart has never felt so happy.
I want to say so many things. Afraid of so many of them. And I don’t want to ruin the moment. Ruining things is my bad habit.
I shift my hand just a little bit toward Archer and feel his, his thumb brushing against mine, intentionally, back and forth.
One touch. It can mean so much. Our fingers aimlessly brush together, and it might be the most intimate moment yet.
I turn my head to study him. This beautiful guy, so strong, so powerful, and so full of feelings.
He turns his head to meet my gaze.
“Just remember I warned you, wild thing,” he says, a smile on his lips too playful to be a warning. It’s one of Archer’s bedroom warnings. These are my favorite. “You just said yes to a selfish prick.”
I chuckle. This shouldn’t be funny. I called him that in his darkest moments, but I’ll fix that. “But you aremyselfish prick now, right?”
