‘Archie, please.’ My hips wriggle of their own accord.
‘I suppose I am here to serve you.’ The faint smile I hear in his tone is lost against my sex as his flat, assertive tongue runs rings around me. Thick fingers dip inside me, pumping slowly. I’m in sensory overload. It’s so much more than sex. It’s a union of two souls who truly see each other. It’s a promise. It’s a pact. It’s everything.
Archie Mason has earned the title of my first love. I can only pray I’m lucky enough he’ll be my last.
My thighs tremble as he quickens the pace with his swirling tongue. My fingers grasp at his cropped, mussed hair as the fireworks fizz and pop beneath my skin and the world explodes like a hot, white shooting star.
‘Archie.’ A moan slurs from my lips.
‘For the record, I will never get tired of hearing you moan my name like that, either.’ He crawls up my limp, tingling limbs and thrusts himself home in one deep long movement, stretching and filling me, drowning me in that pain/pleasure sensation that I’ve come to love.
My pelvis arches to take him deeper, walls clenching around him.
‘You’re right, you know,’ he murmurs into my neck.
‘I usually am, but about what specifically?’ He pumps me harder, staring at me with an intensity that would melt metal. Ironic really, because that’s what I had to do to him, melt that wall.
‘How can something that feels so right possibly be wrong?’ Hooking my knee over his bicep, he stretches me wider, driving into my centre in a slow, deep, hypnotising rhythm. Flesh slides against flesh.
‘I’m going to marry you one day, Vic. Just so you know.’ His breath is ragged, his voice rough with need. It’s almost more arousing than the way his swollen cock slams into me.
My body ripples around his. Every single cell inside me bursts to life. ‘I’m counting on it.’
The familiar waves build and tighten. When his thumb circles my clit, I’m gone again, over the edge, into the most delicious, decadent oblivion. A climax that’s so intense it’s blinding. This time I’m not alone.
Archie’s mouth meets mine as he spills every last drop of himself into me.
I crash on his chest again, the night terrors chased away by dreams of a future filled with love, hope and happiness.
22
ARCHIE
‘Do we seriously have to go to Libby’s?’ I wait at the top of the landing, resting against the banister.
The prospect of another student party, especially a ridiculously posh one, is not my idea of a sizzling Saturday night.
Some of the medical students look down their noses at me so severely, I often do a double-take and wonder how the fuck I ended up where I did.
I didn’t even sit my high school exams before I enrolled in the army.
I push away the niggle, forcing it to a box in my brain labelled ‘don’t go there.’
Victoria sweeps out of her bedroom in a sultry scented perfume cloud.Ourbedroom is probably a more accurate description these days. We haven’t slept apart in months. I’ve even moved my revolver into the bedside drawer on the left side of the bed, the bodyguard equivalent of leaving my underwear in the drawer. There’s another one in the ‘spare room’ too, just in case.
In a black lace cocktail dress which moulds to her every curve like a pair of Spanx, Victoria is a fucking vision. Long silky hair bounces in loose waves over her shoulders and her porcelain skin shimmers with some sort of lotion that begs me to touch her.
‘You look amazing.’ I still can’t believe the woman I’ve been fantasising about for years is actually mine. That it’s possible we might have a future together, one that will allow us to have a relationship out in the open after she graduates.
‘Thank you.’ A splash of red colours her cheeks. ‘You look pretty good yourself, you know.’ I prefer the navy Boss suit, but I picked the black Armani because it seems to be her favourite.
‘Seriously, Vic, I hate being a party pooper, but your friends are kind of a handful.’ The club shooting that got me posted here in the first place appears to have been a one-off freak incident and, although there is no direct threat to Victoria’s life as far as I’m aware, that’s not to say there never will be.
Victoria would make an exceptional target for an opportunistic ransom kidnapping, thanks to her wealthy, famous family.
So nights like these, where there are hundreds of randoms milling round her, make me slightly nervous.
She links her arm in mine as we descend the stairs. ‘That’s why we’re going early, before it gets rowdy. We’ll show our faces and then leave. I can’t just drop my friends, even if I would rather be having mind-blowing sex with my bodyguard.’
