Like those were the words to break the spell, he lets out a deep, masculine groan before fusing our lips back together. All of our kisses have been a mix of passion, longing, and grief. This one is even stronger—like someone lit the invisible string tying us together and we only have this moment before it burns out. Forever.
Archer is right—if this is all we get, then we may as well take full advantage of it.
There won’t even be someone else for me after this, I realize.
A new plan of my own begins to brew in the back of my mind. It’s for another night—one soon. Tonight, this is for us.
Wrapping my arms tighter around him, I pull our bodies closer until the only place to go is into his arms. The short skirt I’m wearing slides easily up my hips, giving me room to wrap my legs around his waist, and he eagerly takes the hint. With strong, calloused hands grippingonto the back of my thighs, he swiftly pulls me up his body and walks until his knees hit the bed.
He drops me onto the edge of the mattress, making my body bounce at the impact, and I fall backward to my elbows. Before I’ve had the chance to sit up, Archer is dropping to his knees in between my spread legs.
“Archer,” I say with a raspy whine.
“I’ve thought about this a million times—imagining how sweet you would taste on my tongue,” he murmurs against my thigh. “Your sweet scent haunts the moments we’re apart, but I think I won’t let you out of my sight again after I get to taste you.”
More confident than usual, I sit up, holding my weight with one outstretched arm behind me as the other moves to the hem of my skirt and tugs it up the last couple of inches—putting me on full display for him.
“You won’t find me complaining,” I tease and open my legs more.
With a dark laugh, he slides his hands along the inside of my thighs until he reaches the thin scrap of lace covering my wetness from him. With one thumb, he hooks it under the fabric and pulls it to the side, taking in the unobstructed view of me. His other hand slides a couple inches up and his thumb finds my clit—already sensitive from the way his eyes rove over me.
Our moans tangle in the air around us as he slowly starts to move his thumb in circles over me.
“Oh—oh,” I cry out, losing semblance of where we are.
About to whine when he removes his finger from my clit, I instead watch as he flicks his hand in the air. Suddenly it’s quiet, other than our harsh breaths and the crackling of the fire.
Looking around the room in confusion, my eyes finally land on him.
“No one can hear us now,” he promises. “Be as loud as you want, Little Wisp—I demand it, actually.”
He used his air magic to create a sound barrier. Thank whatever higher powers there are for that.
When his fingers return to my center, with his mouth following soon after, my head tips back as a long, euphoric moan rips from my throat.
“Archer,” I breathe out, lost to the sensation of his tongue on me—in me. His thumb tries a few different tactics until he finds the one thatpulls the most pleasure out of me, made clear by the wanton thrust of my hips against his face and the feral noises coming out of me. “Just like that—do not stop that,” I demand.
He chuckles against my pussy but quickly does as I say, licking up my slit and driving his tongue deep inside me again.
In a quick motion, he roughly tugs on the lace of my undergarments and rips them off. Letting out a surprised yelp, the sight of him greedily lapping up my arousal only makes me burn hotter for him. Now with his other hand free, he skims it up my side, sliding over each and every curve.
Not that there are many. I’m tall and thin, often compared to a spirit in looks. It’s why his nickname, Little Wisp, is so perfect—it is affectionate, unlike the years of teasing I’ve faced for my traits. The way his hands move on my body—the way he holds me so desperately—makes me feel sexier than I ever have before.
It makes it easy to imagine how I look in his eyes.
His hand pulls my tucked in sweater out of the waistband of my skirt and he slips his hand up, finding my breast and squeezing tightly.
My hips buck against him and he uses the hand on my clit to hold me in place while he continues his feral attack on my pussy. I’m close—Archer realizes it too when my moans turn into short, sharp breaths, and my hips writhe under him, looking for more friction to get me to my orgasm.
“Mm,” he groans in pleasure as he gently pushes me onto my back, his hand never leaving my breast. With the new position, he lifts my legs over his shoulders and lifts higher in his kneeling position. It allows for everything to feel deeper, more euphoric, when he looks up at me, his mouth still fused to my center. “Come on my face, love. I know it’s going to be as sweet as honey.”
“Fuck, Archer,” I whimper as his words push me over the edge. My eyes squeeze shut as my hands find his, holding him to me as I find my pleasure.
Twice, because once the first orgasm is starting to subside, Archer slips his tongue out of my channel and licks up to my clit. With his now wet hand, he slips it under my sweater and grabs my other breast. He uses his grip to roughly pull me down the bed a few inches so he can suck on my clit. It’s sensitive from all of the attention, but when he softlynibbles, another orgasm explodes through me. This one is faster—going as quick as it came.
Lying limp and relaxed on the mattress, I close my eyes and catch my breath. The bed shifts below me as Archer crawls over and covers me with his body. When I finally look at him, I get the honor of watching the way his greedy, possessive eyes take in every exposed part of me.
My legs and pussy are on full display for him, but other than a sliver of skin between my pushed up skirt and my tight sweater, most of my top half is still left to his imagination.
