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“I’m not planning on leaving,” he says. “I was hoping for breakfast. And I’d like to have two of them. We still haven’t made it to that part.”
I remember every time we were together.
“And”—his gaze slides down my body—“I didn’t have my dinner yet.” Horny bastard! I squeal inwardly in delight. “So there. I’m staying tonight. Thanks for asking and not making me invite myself.”
He kiss me again, and my heart is pretty much like that emoji with blissfully tight-shut eyes and a tongue sticking out.
20
ARCHER
WillI ever tell her that I bluffed and wouldn’t have had the guts to send her off this island?
Will I ever tell her that I’ve never wanted anything more than her?
I might in the future. I’ve never looked forward to the future so much.
And I’ve never been so much in the present as I am now, slowly thrusting into Kat, kissing her non-stop, gliding my hand along her warm thigh, her legs wrapped around me, her moans seeping into my mouth.
She’s letting me in deeper, and I’m not talking about my cock inside her, throbbing again, even though we just fucked. Her words spin in my head, every kiss laced with them, every thrust, every brush of her hand against my skin, her fingers twisting into my hair. The scent of her.
I want so much more of you.
I wantallof her.
We fuck slower this time. I need to fuck her a dozen more times just to catch up on how much I missed her.
“I’ll fuck you to death, my beautiful spy,” I murmur, drawing out every thrust like there’s some existential meaning in it.
“That was the promise yet to be delivered,” she blurts out.
I thrust harder into her—I’ve yet to fuck this clever mouth of hers properly.
But before I pick up the rhythm, she pushes into me, flips me onto the bed, and pins my hands above my head.
“There,” she exhales, sinking onto my cock.
I’m startled. She holds my hands pinned with unusual strength. Not that I can’t overpower her, but this feels good. My woman taking charge is arousing as hell. There’s unexplainable pleasure in relinquishing control, let alone the sight of my kitten riding on top of me, her torso arching in waves, her perky breasts right above me, her hair falling down onto my face. She is a warrior in bed, and I fucking love it.
I lace my fingers with hers. She leans over and kisses me greedily. Even our tongues are at war.
No, not a fucking chance I would’ve let her go. She is my biggest addiction yet. With the biggest hangover I’ve had in the last month.
I thought she was a drug I needed to try and then toss away when the initial curiosity wore off.
I couldn’t be more wrong.
She’s the cure for the darkness that anchored inside me for the longest time and the loneliness that had taken root deep within it.
I let her ride me for a little longer, feel her hold loosen, then tear my hands out of hers, flip her onto her back, and start driving into her until she cries out and the mere sound of her orgasm makes me come right after.
We lie on top of the sheets for some time. She’s being unusually quiet. I want to lie like this forever, but also to fuck her again, kiss her, talk, laugh—all at once, like there’s no time to do everything I’ve wanted to do with her. The last weeks without her were torture.
Her beautiful body is splayed on the bed. There’s that lazy cum-buzzed look on her face. Her voice is soft, though intending to be more confident, when she finally asks, “Are you hungry?”
I turn my head to meet her playful smile. She always changes the topic when she feels vulnerable.
“Yeah, I could eat something.”
