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Chase was right: Archerisa different person on drugs. But what he failed to mention was that he looks different, too. I barely recognise him.
And yet, I still want him. I love how, right now, he just craves me, and although the thought of him watching porn angers me, it also turns me on.
‘You’re throbbing.’ He buries his face in my neck and kisses a line up it.
I close my eyes and tip my head back to give him better access. He sucks at my skin, and the pain is so pleasant I gasp. I hope it leaves a bruise. I want him to claim me, to put a stamp on me.
I whimper and shift my hips to grind against his knee. Pleasure ripples through me, and I move harder, deeper.
He moans. ‘I want to fuck you so much,’ he breathes.
I gasp his name.
He growls. He walks forward and backs me against the door. He flips me around so my front is pressed against it.
I’m not sure what he’s doing, but there’s a haste to his movements, a sort of frenzied desperation, as he lifts up the bottom of my dress and slaps my arse. I bite my lip. I need to feel him against me, any part of him. He moves my panties aside and grazes me with the tip of his index.
He makes a sound between a moan and a gasp. ‘You’re soaking, love.’
It completely undoes me. I move against his finger, feeling myself pulse, hearing the squelch of my wetness. His cock is rock hard against my backside; I reach around and stroke him.
I’m not sure where the boldness comes from. In this moment, I know what I want, and it’s him. All of him. I want him inside me, against me, on top of me.
I move my hips in rhythm with each pump of my hand, slow and lingering and deliberate. He makes a sound of pleasure. His tip is wet, and I twist my palm over it. He jerks.
‘Fuck.’
Archer bends his finger, so that when I move back, it slips into me.
But it doesn’t hurt.
I feel like glass; fissures of pleasure crack across me. It feels full and tight. He presses it against a spot inside of me and pumps it, and I cry out.
‘Shh,’ he says.
But he does it again, and again, and again. I bite down on my lip to keep from screaming.
He wraps his other arm around me and rubs my clit. Something builds and builds and builds, and just before the world shatters in blinding white, he pulls his finger out of me.
He slaps his cock against me.
‘Archer,’ I say. ‘I’m not on anything.’
‘We’re not having sex,’ he breathes against my neck.
‘But—isn’t that cum?’
‘Pre-cum,’ he tells me. ‘But we’re not having sex, love. Just relax.’
He thrusts his hips, and the tip of him rubs against me. I sound so wet; one subtle move would have him plunged inside of me. I could lose my virginity right now, but this feels so good, I don’t want it to stop. I don’t want to feel pain right now.
His hand finds its way into my dress. His fingers twist my nipple, and something within me tightens. My clit tingles, and a pressure builds, and he thrusts against me faster, harder—
Release barrels into me. He plunges a finger inside of me and I cry out—
Archer clamps a hand over my mouth.
I’m still twitching when he suddenly lifts me and throws me onto his bed. He spreads my legs and puts his nose against me. He breathes me in and drags his nose up my slit. He licks me, and it’s sensitive at first, but then I feel my toes starting to curl again.
