Using my shoulders for leverage, she raised herself up, half-pulling off me before sliding back down.
I thrust up into her a few times, the water splashing against the side of the bath and threatening to go over onto the floor.
I leaned forward and took one of her nipples in my mouth, sucking gently before switching to the other one, tasting her warm, bath salt-scented skin.
Forget chocolate, nothing tasted better than this woman.
I pressed a hand between us, stroking her clit with my fingers while we rolled our hips. Creating the only kind of friction I liked.
She moaned softly. Her hips shifting, seeking my hand. Needing more. I watched her face, listened to her breaths. Paid attention when I hit the right spot. Then working her. Right there. A little harder. A little faster. A little more.
"Archer," she whispered. "Oh god, I'm going to… Going to come." She was breathless now. Moaning and writhing against my fingers.
"Come for me," I said softly.
Watching her break apart in front of me and around me was a bigger high than killing. A bigger high than coming myself, which I did a few moments after her. Her pussy tight around me, drawing an orgasm out of me. I couldn't have resisted if I tried.
Which I didn't. Because why would I resist coming inside this incredible woman?
My release exploded inside her. Surrounding my cock with extra heat and wetness. Drowning me. I might have died inside her for a moment or two. Died happy.
And then we were sagging together. Holding each other. Breathing heavily.
"The perfect date," she whispered.
"The perfect woman," I whispered back.
She laughed softly, her chest vibrating against mine.
"Don't say you're not," I said before she could respond. "To kill with and then have a bath with after, you're perfect."
There was no one else I'd rather do any of this with. Harlow was it for me. If anything happened to her, there'd never be anyone else.
She might as well put my heart in a jar right now, because all of it belonged to her. Every fiber. Every drop of blood.
"I love you," I said softly, stroking her damp hair.
"I love you too," she said back.
Reluctantly, I eased her off my cock and turned her around to reach for the shampoo bottle. If I was good at anything, it was cleaning. I wanted to wash every inch of her.
I started with her hair, then her body. Rubbing body wash into her shoulders to ease the tension. Then working my way down slowly.
"Turn around," I said so I could reach her legs and her feet, massaging down between her toes until she started to look sleepy.
“Mmm," she hummed, closing her eyes. "You have magic hands."
"You have magic everything,” I told her. Boner was wrong. Magic did exist. She was proof of it.
She opened one eye and smiled at me.
"Everything," I said firmly, massaging the ball of her foot. "Magic smile. Magic nipples. Magic pussy." I shrugged one shoulder. "I'm just saying."
"Archer Hardwick, you're such a romantic," she said, smiling softly.
"Only when it comes to you," I told her. She was turning me into a big puddle of goo, and I wasn't even mad about it. I wasn't usually a big fan of goo of any kind, but I'd wear the title if she gave it to me.
Archer Goo Hardwick didn't roll off the tongue, but whatever.
