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One second I’m upright, looking down at his incredibly handsome face, and the next, my back is on the bed. I don’t know how he moved me so efficiently with next to no effort, but I don’t have a lot of time to think about it either as he peels the material of my leggings and panties the rest of the way down my legs and tosses them haphazardly over his shoulder.
I almost laugh at the way they go flying across the room, but the sound quickly dies in my throat when he settles between my thighs, his breath warm against my already too wet flesh. He hasn’t even touched me there and yet I’m so wound I fear one brush of his finger or flick of his tongue would send me right over the edge.
It’s been so long... Too long. And not just since I’ve been with someone, but since I’ve given myself any real pleasure. It’s not that I’m opposed to masturbating. It’s just not something I usually think about and on the rare occasion it has crossed my mind, I haven’t been in a position to be able to do anything about it. It’s not like I’m going to start touching myself with my roommate sleeping in the bed next to me.
So, needless to say, my body is primed for one hell of a release and that becomes even more apparent when he leans in and inhales my scent, his nose brushing softly across my clit.
I can’t stop the build, no matter how hard I try to squash it down. Before he even has a chance to truly touch me, I come right there on the spot, biting my lip so hard in an effort to keep myself from making any noise, it’s a wonder I don’t taste blood.
It doesn’t do me any good. Even if I didn’t move or make a sound, the evidence is right there, in his face. If I wasn’t so ripe with desperation of wanting more, I might actually be more embarrassed than I am.
“I’m sor—”
“Don’t you dare apologize.” He runs his tongue along my seam, tasting my pleasure. “Fuck, you taste better than I imagined.”
I want to crawl under my shell and hide the way I always do when things make me feel so... exposed. But with Archer, I don’t know, I feel free. Like I don’t have to hide from him. Like he sees me anyway.
This time when he laps his tongue along my seam, he finds the sweet spot, making my hips jump the instant he makes contact. I can quite literally feel him smile against me before his tongue swirls the little nub again and then again and again until I orgasm a second and then a third time, all in a matter of less than five minutes.
By the third one, I’m not sure my body can take another. My clit feels sore and my insides ache deliciously from being wrecked by three of the best orgasms of my life.
I don’t have to tell Archer when I’ve had enough. He seems to be able to read me better than I ever imagined a person could. Like he knows my body so well already.
He kisses his way back up my stomach, stopping to lay a soft kiss to each of my nipples before the weight of his body settles on top of me, pressing me deeper into the mattress. I feel the evidence of his arousal in an instant and even though I know I told myself I wouldn’t sleep with him until I was sure, a part of me really wants to.
“You good?” He kisses the tip of my nose in a way that seems uncharacteristically sweet for someone like Archer.
Then again, maybe I should stop assuming what I think I know about him and start accepting that maybe, just maybe, I really did have it all wrong.
“I’m good.” The words don’t make it past a whisper and even though I shouldn’t be embarrassed, I still feel the intense heat of a blush spread up my neck and across my cheeks.
“You know, pink is my favorite color on you.” He grins, kissing my cheek, then my forehead, then my other cheek before finally finding my lips.
I open to him without hesitation, tasting myself on his tongue as it slides against mine. It’s strange, to say the least. But not in a bad way, just in a different sort of way. Something I’ve never actually experienced.
I’m starting to realize that there are probably a lot of things I’ve never experienced that Archer could school me on.
After tonight, hell, I’m not sure I know anything about anything. Maybe Alina was right about me and Conner. Maybe we really were just two young kids fumbling in the dark. Maybe what Conner and I had barely scratched the surface of what could be.
“You’re driving me fucking crazy, Rory.” Archer grinds his erection into my leg, our height difference almost even more noticeable lying down.
“Well, that makes two of us, then.” I slide my hands through the side of his hair, holding his head in place for a long moment so that I can stare up into those brilliant gray eyes of his.
I keep wanting to pinch myself to prove I’m not dreaming.
Pulling him close again, I kiss him long and deep, moaning into his mouth when he presses his erection into me a second time. I’m seconds away from telling him I changed my mind, that I want him to take me right here and now, when I hear keys and the jiggle of the door handle.
“Fuck.” Archer is off of me so fast that I have enough time to pull the blanket over my body before Alina shoves her way into the room, her hair still wet from the pool.
Her eyes go wide at the sight of me cowering beneath a blanket with Archer standing next to my bed.
“Oh shit.” She quickly spins around, putting her back to us. “Damn it, Rory. Have I taught you nothing? Put a fucking sock on the door or something.”
“Sorry... I—” I stop mid-sentence, watching Archer quickly collect my clothing before depositing them on the bed in front of me.
“Do you need me to leave? I can go to Enzo’s place.”
“No need.” It’s Archer who answers, pressing his hands against the bed as he leans down. “I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?”
