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“I can’t promise you that,” I whisper.
“Then let me touch you.” His voice lowers as his fingers loosen gently around my wrists. Until they’re slipping away and he’s nuzzling my neck with his face, his hands skimming along my sides. “I want to explore you.”
I’m not going to protest. That’s exactly what I want him to do. So instead of making a grab for his dick—as he so kindly says—I sling my arms around his neck, my hands in his hair, gently guiding him down as he rains kisses across my collarbone, my chest, the tops of my breasts, the valley between my breasts...
He’s teasing me. My nipples ache for his mouth to wrap around them and his lips are everywhere but my nipples. I don’t know if I can stand this exquisite torture, his hands gripping my hips, his mouth all over my sensitive skin. I tighten my hold on his hair, tugging hard until he mutters a curse word against my flesh before he licks one nipple.
Then he licks the other.
The ragged moan that escapes me is nothing like the usual sounds I make in bed, and I clamp my lips shut, momentarily embarrassed. But then he does it again, his velvety damp tongue flicking back and forth over my nipple, driving me absolutely wild. Another shuddery moan leaves me, and I tangle my fingers in his hair, holding him to me as he licksand sucks and edges his teeth on my flesh, gently nipping. Testing me.
It feels so good I want more. Oh God, I’m crazed with wanting his teeth on me, his hands all over me. “Harder,” I whisper, my request shocking myself, and he bites my nipple, hard.
Between my legs I go loose and damp and when he glides his fingers through my soaked folds, his thumb sweeping over my clit, I shake my head frantically. “No, not like this. Please.”
“Want me inside you?” He whispers the heated words against my breasts, and I crack open my eyes to find him watching me. His gaze is dark, full of forbidden promise, and I nod, a whimper falling from my lips. His answering smile is deliciously wicked. “Good. Because I can’t fucking wait to be inside you.”
No man has ever talked to me like this. I love it. I want more. So much more...
Moving up, he leans over me, his chest in my face as he reaches for the bedside table and pulls open the tiny drawer. He withdraws a condom from inside, and I’m momentarily stunned.
Though I shouldn’t be. Everyone knows how Archer operates.
Pushing the worry from my head, I lean up on my elbows and press my mouth to the center of his chest. His scent surrounds me, the warmth of his skin, his salty taste. I’m licking a path down to his abs and he pulls away from me, hissing as if I’ve burned him.
“You’re dangerous,” he murmurs, tearing open the wrapper and rolling on the condom. The sight of him entrancesme and my heart rate accelerates, my mouth going dry when he catches me staring. He shakes his head with a slight smile curving his perfect, swollen lips. “I want to take my time but I doubt I’ll make it, Ivy. I want you too damn much.”
Again, he stuns me, this time with his words. If I think about it too hard, the entire situation is mind-blowing. I’m naked with Archer Bancroft. We’re about to have sex. If someone told me a month ago—heck, a few hours ago—that I would end this night having sex with Archer, I would’ve laughed in their face.
I’m not laughing now, though. More like I’m grabbing for Archer, bringing him down on top of me, his big body pushing me into the mattress. I wrap my legs around his hips, curl my arms around him so I can stroke down his smooth, damp-with-sweat back as our mouths find each other, lazily kissing, nipping at each other’s lips, tangling our tongues.
He tastes amazing. I love the sounds he makes, the way he holds me. And when he slowly slides inside my body, inch by excruciating inch, a shudder sweeps over me, my eyes shutting against the intensity of emotions swirling within. He doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as breathe, and I’m breathless too. I’ve never felt so connected to another person before.
It’s frightening. Exhilarating.
“Christ, you feel so good,” he whispers close to my ear as he slowly begins to move. I shift with him, lifting my hips, tightening my legs around him. He’s thrusting faster, almost as if he can’t help himself, and I’m fine with it. More than fine with it. I rock against him, sending his cock deeper inside my body, and he’s groaning, straining above me, already close. I can see it in the tension in his face, across his shoulders.
He warned me it would be fast, but I don’t care. I’m closetoo. I’ve been on edge since he made me come on the terrace. There’d been no relief with that orgasm. More like it ratcheted me up, helping me realize what I was missing, not being with him like this.
“Say you’re going to come,” he whispers, his ragged voice sending a shiver over my skin. “Say it.” He reaches between us, his fingers slipping over my clit, rubbing circles around it, driving me straight out of my mind.
“Yes,” I moan. “So close.”
Archer rears up on his knees and grasps hold of my waist, pulling me closer as he pounds into me. I watch, breathless at the brutal way he’s handling me, truly fucking me, and I wonder if any man I’ve ever been with has done this. Fucked me like Archer is at this very moment.
That would be a firm no.
The men of my past always handled me gently, as if I were made of glass and might shatter at any moment. Not Archer. He’s all macho, primal fierceness, his hands gripping me, his cock pounding inside of me, his mouth brutalizing mine. It’s as if he’s completely overcome.
I love it.
Closing my eyes, the familiar sensations threaten to wash over me, and I try to hold them off. Whimpering, I shake my head, pant his name, and then I can’t hold back any longer.
I’m coming. Lost in the deliciously warm pulsating sensation as the second orgasm of the night takes me completely over the edge.
He collapses on top of me seconds later, his warm weight comforting, yet making it all feel far too real. His mouth presses to my neck, wet and hot as he whispers unintelligible words. I smooth my fingers down his back, feel the shivers still trembling through him, and I kiss his cheek, murmuring,“You should probably go soon.” I wince the moment the words leave my mouth. I really don’t want him to leave.
But he needs to. If he lingers... I might want him to stick around. Then I might do something stupid. Like admit how much I care for him, how much I wish he were a permanent part of my life.
