I blink at him. I am worthy. I am wanted. I reach between us, wrapping my hand around his cock and slowly stroking him the way he showed me he likes.
He groans, his jaw locking up tight. “Fuck.” He huffs out a hard breath. “Let me inside that sweet pussy, baby.”
My eyes flick to his, remembering the words he spoke to me that first time he touched me and bringing us full circle. “Whatever we want.”
I look down as I bring the head of his cock to my entrance. The first touch of his dick to my pussy has a needy breath shuddering out of me. I pause as my body begins to stretch around him, the sensation of him penetrating me enough to blow my mind. It’s so fucking good, I don’t know why we’ve waited.
“God, that’s hot,” he mutters, gripping my hips with both hands. I glance up to find he’s intently watching himself disappear into my body. My movements are purposely slow, wanting to draw out the moment and make it last. I slide down, taking every inch of him until he’s fully seated inside me.
I thread my fingers through his hair, bringing my mouth back to his. Our tongues stroke together languidly, and with a luxurious sigh, we melt together. A natural rhythm is established between us, our bodies sliding together like two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit just right. He nips at my lips before his mouth skims down my jaw and throat. He inhales, then his tongue flicks out against my pulse point for a taste.
He takes control from below, thrusting into my body, and with every brush of my clit over his pelvic bone, I nearly come undone. His fingers dig into my ass cheeks as he guides my body to rock. Water splashes over the edges of the tub, but it’s the last thing on my mind because Archer’s fingers slide inward, and with every movement of my body over his, he comes closer and closer to touching the sensitive pucker of skin.
My heart hammers. Because I want him to touch me there. I want him to claim me everywhere. I strain backward with every downward stroke, opening my legs farther, trying to tell him without saying with words that I want his touch. I’m on fire for it, no room in my head for anything that came before this moment in time, and no room for worry or fear of what’s to come.
When his fingers finally brush over me, I let out a strangled moan.
“You like that?”
“Y-yes,” I stammer.
“Good girl.” And as a reward, his fingertip brushes over my asshole again, and I practically weep when the nerve endings set off sparks of ecstasy that shimmer throughout my entire body.
“I can’t. Oh god. I’m coming, Archer. I’m coming.” I fuse my mouth to his and ride out the orgasm that is shaking me to my core, brilliant lights flashing behind my eyelids as my body begins to pulse and clench around Archer’s.
He stiffens beneath me, driving his hips upward, and impales me on his cock until he’s as deeply joined with me as one human can possibly be with another. “That’s it, baby,” he rasps. “Milk my cock. Take it all.”
It’s several minutes before either of us moves a millimeter, and I swear, it’s only because of the rapidly cooling water, and not because we want to be separated from one another. But I reluctantly lift myself off his dick and sit back while Archer drains the tub, then runs fresh, warm water before grabbing the sprayer. My eyes go wide again, but he chuckles, handing it to me to hold while he takes my hair down from the knot on top of my head. “Let’s finish up, huh? It’ll feel good to have your hair washed. Come closer and rest your legs over mine.”
“You don’t want my back to you?”
“Nope.”
“How come?”
He leans in connecting our mouths in a searing kiss. “Because if you’re facing me, I can do that.”
My lips twitch into a smile. “I like it. But why do I have a feeling this isn’t the last of the surprises you have in store for me?”
“Couldn’t tell ya, Peaches.” He lifts his hands in an I-don’t-know gesture and shoots me an awkward, smirking grin.
One thing I do know that I learned from my interactions with Will while we were growing up is that it’s the funny guys who tend to hide the most. And I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to Archer than most people see.
EIGHT
ARCHER
I makequick work of shampooing Elliot’s voluminous hair, rinsing, and then adding conditioner. She quietly sits in front of me during the entire process with her legs draped over my thighs. While giving her conditioner a few minutes to sit on her hair, I scan over her mostly relaxed features before my gaze drifts downward. She watches me as I do this, and she probably assumes I’m looking at her pussy, but no, that’s not it at all. I’m looking at the cuts on her thigh and hoping we didn’t do something stupid. I grit my teeth. “You don’t think we irritated it, do you?”
She presses her lips together for a moment or two before nodding. “I know we did.”
Panic zips through me. “Why didn’t you say something? I would have stopped.”
Slowly, she shakes her head. “I didn’t want to stop at all. Being with you and feeling like myself again was more important to me than what Nick did. I’ll be okay. Fuck him.”
I release a nervous breath and reach forward, cupping the back of her neck, and slide my thumb along the soft skin at her jawline. I can physically feel the hard pinch of my forehead as my brain works overtime. Wetting my lips, I nod. “I get that. I do—”Yeah.I know all about needing to go back to feeling normal. Not that I’ll tell her exactly how closely I’m identifying with her emotions. Not today. Instead, I look away a moment, then shake my head and release her to take the soap in hand again.
“What are you doing?” she quietly whispers.
