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I start to move against him. His fingers clench harder to the point of pain, but he doesn’t stop me. I place my hands on his knees and lean back.
He massages his thumb against me, and I watch his hand move. Something about it undoes me. I ride him, and he removes his other hand from my arse to squeeze my nipple from beneath my shirt.
I moan. I pulse and clench around him, and his cock throbs in response. I want to feel every inch of him slide into me, so I move slow, so slow that all I hear is my wetness and his low, rough groans. He watches his cock thrust into me, and I feel him grow harder still, so hard he pushes against my clit—
Suddenly he wraps his arms around me and presses my body tight against his so he can thrust his hips up beneath me.
Hard.
Fast.
I don’t care that my mouth falls open. I don’t care that I gasp his name over and over again. I don’t care that I dig my nails into his shoulders.
He slams into me, and when I’m sat to the hilt, I feel his cock pulse. His balls slap into my arse and his breaths turn to gasps and his hands squeeze my cheeks and spread them apart.
‘Fuck.’
That word untethers me.
I cry out as I cum around him.
‘You’re so fucking tight,’ he growls.
‘Don’t stop,’ I say. I reach around in a frenzy and rub myself. ‘Don’t stop don’t stop—‘
He groans—and release finds me again in a shattering kaleidoscope of white and silver. My head falls back as my eyes roll, and Archer’s cock pulses and goes harder still before he spills.
I watch him. He tips his head back, too, and his own eyes roll. He pounds into me, and then slows, and his body jerks when he stills.
We stay there like that, panting and breathless, wrapped around each other, for some time.
And I realise there’s one thing better than climaxing: the intimacy of sex itself. Opening myself up to Archer like this, and him opening himself up to me, is as naked as we’ll ever be. There’s a certain vulnerability in it. A sort ofI see you for all your flaws and imperfections, and I want you. I want you still.
I’m heady with emotion, and tears well as I smile into his shoulder.
And when his arms tighten around me, I don’t think about Chase.
I don’t think about him at all.
Chapter Twelve
Hindsight is a Beautiful Thing
Iwish it was a school night.
Archer’s ultimate goal was to have sex with me, and now he’s accomplished it, I worry he will pull away from me entirely and discard me. Unless he wants to hang out, there’s no reason why we’d see each other this weekend, hence why I sort of wish I had the excuse of school to talk to him.
I have his number, but I’m not sure what to say. Should I ask whether the sex was alright? If I did anything wrong? If he wants to do it again?
I can’t stop smiling to myself as I lay on my bed.
I’ve had sex.
I’ve actually had sex, and not just with anyone—with Archer Toban.
For some reason I always thought I’d feel different; I thought something internally would feel different, and that people would automatically assume I’d had sex because of some weird glow about me and I’d be accepted by society or something, but I feel the same.
I feelgood.
