I never thought it could feel this good. Why does he do this to me? Don’t stop. I’m burning up. If he says one word, I might lose it. Keep going, keep going.
Even during sex, my brain wouldn’t shut up.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his fingers biting into my hip.
Archer’s breath hitched, and he held it a few seconds before releasing a forced sigh. He did that repeatedly.
It was as if I could hear his heartbeat inside me, and it sounded like a gallop. I threw my head back, picking up the tempo just a fraction.
His rough hand squeezed my breast. “You need to stop.”
“Why?”
“I can’t—” Desire rumbled in his chest. “I can’t hold out the way you keep riding me.” He threw his head back and bit his lip. “Fuck, Cici, your tits in my face ain’t helping.”
Touching his smooth jaw, I ran my hand down his neck and defined pecs. His taut muscles were hard to the touch—so much power. He smelled of rainwater, and a pink hue covered his chest and cheeks.
I wish I had met you first.
I felt myself racing faster—edging close. The tingles between my legs were coaxing me on as his hand gripped my waist.
“Stop.Stop.” Archer clutched my shoulder to hold me still.
I blinked out of the fog I was in and saw his worried expression. “Why?”
He touched my cheek. “You’re crying.”
I felt the salty tears on my fingertips and then pressed them to his lips.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, and those words squeezed my heart.
After catching my breath, I answered, “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m happy, Archer. I’m just so happy.”
I wanted to tell him that I felt myself falling in love with him, but he wouldn’t understand. He was a wolf, and I was not.
My mare had awoken, and she was leading me to him. An indescribable connection tethered me to this man I barely knew, and yet he knew me better than anyone. His expressive nature revealed his emotions, and I never sensed anger or disdain. I only saw a good man who cared about a girl enough to ask her what was wrong.
So I leaned in and kissed him like I’d never kissed anyone before.
Like he was made for me.
Like he was the only man I’d ever kiss again.
Archer’s kiss reciprocated everything I felt in that moment. His arm curved around my back and pulled me tight. When his lips moved away, they traveled to the crook of my neck.
As he worked his way to the other side, desire washed over me once again, and I was drowning in the current.
“Stand up,” he breathed against my neck.
“Why?”
His tongue glided up my throat. “Because I’m going to lick your pearl.”
I wasn’t sure how I got to my feet so fast, but I could have won a medal. Archer’s tongue swiped over my sex, and he made good on his promise.
I gripped his hair, my legs parting as his fingertips penetrated me just at the entrance—teasing me, stroking me. An anguished moan slipped out when he sucked hard. My legs trembled, and the next thing I knew, Archer threw me over his shoulder as he got up and carried me back to the bed.
As soon as I bounced onto the mattress, he covered me like a weighted blanket. His breath skated across my skin, and a delicious sheen of perspiration created friction everywhere we touched as he penetrated me once again.
