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My body betrays me, explosions setting off and rendering me nothing more than a prisoner to his desire. But instead of backing away, Archer’s tongue grows more persistent. His lips cupping my core and lapping up every drop of pleasure he forces me to give up.
“You’ll come how I tell you to,” he growls. “When I tell you to.” Rising between my legs and setting his knees on the mattress, he surprises me when his lips crash against mine, and my own release fills my mouth.
Flavors coat my tongue, and the taboo of what I’m tasting stuns me out of the tail end of my orgasm. But before I can complain—or accept the thrill coursing through my blood—he grabs my hip and flips me over, so I land with a thud and the oxygen explodes from my chest.
He cups my ribs in his palms and yanks me to my knees, so I’m ass up and face down. Then he places his cock at my soaked entrance and waits. Smug in what he does to me; arrogant about the way my body tenses and my breath stops in my lungs.
My entire being waits for his next move. My existence, centered on anticipation.
And he knows it.
“I see my handprints on your ass.” Instead of slamming deep inside me, he rubs my backside so gently, goosebumps sprint to the top of my spine. “I canseethem.”
He’s desperate for his own release, yet in complete control. If he had to deprive himself to pleasure me, he could. He would. For eternity, he would put my needs ahead of his.
“There was a point in time your body never knew mine,” he rasps. “A part of our lives when we’d never even met.”
“Archer—”
“Now I’m in your skin,” he groans. “My fingerprints, imbedded in your flesh.”
“Please,” I pant, desperate for him to take me. Impatient to feel him inside me. “Archer.”
“You were born your own woman, Minka.” He cups my cheeks and opens me wide. Wide. Wide, until an unfamiliar blush burns my face, and my asshole stretches just enough for the sting to register in my mind. But when he wraps his palm around his cock, he sets the head at my pussy’s entrance, and not that of the other. “But you’re all mine now.” He nudges just barely inside. Teasing me. Taunting. “You belong to you.” Another inch. “But you belong to me, too.”
“God,” I pant, desperately searching for the feeling of fullness that only he can give me. “Archer. Yes,” I moan. “I belong to you.”
“But you own me too.” Another inch. Another, but he stops when I try to slide back and steal a little more. “You control me, Mayet. And no one has ever been able to do that before you.”
“Fuck.” I bury my face in the bedspread and fight his hold. I want to sit back and swallow him up. Take all of him to the very base and feel him all the way in my stomach. “Please, Archer.”
“I love you.” So gentle. So tender. He rubs my hip like I need soothing. Then he slams forward and fills me up until I scream.
My back arches, and my toes curl. I throw my head back, and when he grabs my hair and holds me in that position, my throat stretches and burns.
But it all feels so good—his rough treatment, his aggressive pace as he pulls back and slams in again—I sprint to completion a second time.
I don’t give myself permission. I don’t have control over my body.
I’m a puppet for him to master, and he, the hands that control me.
“Fuck, Minka.” He releases my hair, but only to slip his hand around to the front of my neck and hold on tight. He doesn’t cut off my air, but he restricts what I can take in. He warms my throat and bites my shoulder when he can’t stop the impulse to bring me pain. “So fucking tight. So perfect.”
“Archer—”
“Come again.” He nibbles on my shoulder, careful not to mess with my healing injury. But he’s close enough to it, the threat leaves me teetering on the edge of insanity.
The thought of pleasurable pain turning into the blinding ache of something worse leaves me hyper-sensitive. But instead of ruining what we have, it takes me to a point of ecstasy, setting my body aflame.
My entire existence settled in the palms of his hands. His teeth and tongue. His whims, which, I already know, center on my pleasure and safety.
“Come for me.” He slides his free hand over the globes of my ass and has impatience sprinting through my veins. Then he slips his thumb inside my anus and throws me into the nether.
His hips pump, and his thumb wields magic. His strong thighs bounce me forward with every thrust, but his cock is my anchor, a prisoner inside me as my walls clench tight and drag us both over the edge.
My release crushes me in its grasp and steals the breath from my lungs. But it’s the warm shot of Archer’s orgasm, soaking me on the inside, that tethers me to a blinding high. His complete and utter surrender to my body that has waves of pleasure rolling over me.
Dragging me under.
