I knew exactly what those tears looked like.
Archer’s amputation didn’t start right at the shoulder, and the symmetry between both shoulders was impressive. Even what was left of his upper arm had muscle. But what I didn’t expect was the lack of scarring. When he or his wolf lost it, he must have shifted.
I let my hand roam down his side, feeling each rope of muscle.
“Aren’t you repulsed?” He watched me with uncertainty. “Women look away when they see it up close. They make me feel like a monster.”
I took his face in my hands. “You’re not a monster. You’re Archer Swift, the man who saved my life. You’re my protector.”
Archer cupped my nape and pulled me into a feverish kiss. I tasted his salty tears and desire, his tongue sliding against mine as he moaned into my mouth.
After breaking away, I stood on my feet.
Archer leaned in and kissed my thigh. “Is this all you wore to bed? My shirt?” After standing, he ran his hand up my thigh, beneath the white tee, then groaned. “Where are your panties, Cici?”
The underwear Robyn had left me was too tight to sleep in, so I’d gone without.
No regrets.
Not a one.
I panted at the illicit feel of his hand on my bare hip, my body aflame at his touch.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his fingers grazing across my lower back.
“Yes,” I breathed.
Archer kissed me softly on the mouth. “Tell me when it’s not. We’ll stop. We don’t even have to go any further.”
The rain might have soaked Archer, but I was drenched in desire. “I want this,” I said, leaving no doubt. “Can we…?”
His hand memorized the curve of my bottom and my lower thigh. “Can we what?”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, my lips to his ear. “Can we talk like we did that night?”
He kissed my neck, sending a jolt of desire down my spine. “Maybe we should take things slow. I don’t want to say anything that might…”
Archer was clearly worried that the dirty talk would trigger me, but I wanted this to be authentically us. He was the only man I felt safe with, and I wanted to erase every memory of Noah.
“Please,” I whispered in his ear. “I need it.”
When his deep kisses slowed at the crook of my neck, my pulse quickened and my teeth grazed his shoulder.
“I like you telling me what you want,” he growled.
“I just have one rule.”
Archer drew back and locked eyes with me. “Name it.”
“Don’t call me ‘baby,’ and don’t ever tell me I’m a good girl.”
He furrowed his brow. I could explain it later, but for now, I didn’t want to invite Noah’s preferences into the bedroom.
Gazing up at him, I asked, “What are your boundaries?”
By the twitch of his eyebrows, I gathered no one had ever asked him that before.
“Don’t kiss my arm.”
