I never wanted him to stop.
A thunderclap rocked the house, and I shrieked. Archer pumped his hips, pounding into me as hard as the rain beat against the roof. I relaxed my thighs, widening them as a sensation rushed over me that I’d never felt outside of my heat cycle.
“Archer….”
Thunder crashed again, and the lights popped out.
“Don’t stop,” I urged him.“Don’t stop.”
The sharp pulses hit me first, and I gasped as our desperate efforts to reach that highest peak culminated in one heavenly release.
Archer pounded even faster, the sound of our skin slapping together competing with the storm raging outside. “Oh fuck, Cici.Fuck!”
I gripped his neck tight, riding out the biting contractions of my release, which seemed never-ending. Despite the darkness, I saw stars twinkling in the room.
He sucked in a sharp breath as his shallow pumps teased out the rest of his orgasm.
Still hard, he didn’t stop until he drew out another from me. “You’re a bad girl, Cici.” Panting, he pulled out and stroked his fingers between my legs. “Give me another one.”
I clenched my legs, my muscles locking as my orgasm kept hitting me in waves. Then I finally relaxed, breathing hard and listening to the torrential rain that I hadn’t noticed until thirty seconds ago.
Archer rocked with laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
Breathing heavily, he moved about the mattress. “I don’t think I’ve ever knocked the power out before.”
“Who says it was all you?”
He chuckled before entering the bathroom and rummaging through the cabinets. A second later, he lit a candle, then three more. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s take a quick shower.”
“Together?”
Add that to my list of things I’ve never done.
“Do you have a better idea?” he asked. “Together is the best way.”
“Why not a bath?”
He gave me a sharp look from where he stood gloriously naked in the doorway. “I like the way you think.”
Chapter 22
While Archer filled the tub, I showered off first to clean myself. Archer lined candles around the room, and we bathed together. I had never experienced anything so romantic.
We sat on opposite sides and talked about unimportant things, like the weather in Oregon and my favorite movies. Archer missed the ocean and described the feeling of standing on the beach with the Pacific waters lapping at the shore. He washed my feet while I tested out if he was ticklish. I told him I’d never seen the ocean before, and he promised to take me there someday. He also detailed their journey to becoming a pack and the tribulations and triumphs they’d faced in previous months.
I had never felt so transparent with anyone, and yet in my heart, it seemed too good to be true.
When the power returned, we didn’t bother turning on the lights. Archer eventually left the bathroom, and I combed my towel-dried hair and put it in a ponytail.
Once finished, I stared at my flushed reflection, reminiscing over our steamy evening.
A reproachful voice interrupted my thoughts.Whatis wrong with you? Crying while you’re having sex? He probably thinks you’re a lunatic. And he never even got to bend you over the couch. Wolves like it that way, remember? On top of that, you rode him like a horse. Great. Next time he might buy you a saddle. If there is a next time.
After applying lotion to my feet and legs, I slipped on the blue T-shirt Melody had given me. A thought occurred as I observed the silence: Archer had left—just like I had the first time we met.
Once the candles were snuffed out, I opened the door and gaped at the bed. The warm glow from the bedside lamp painted a picture of Archer lying on the sheets like a cover model on a romance novel. On his back, his right arm tucked behind his head and left leg bent, he gave me an unapologetic smile as the only thing that covered him was a pie plate on his chest.
