I love it. And I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this. Could it be that every one of our senses was designed for sex? To taste the musk of your own sex from the mouth of a lover, to lick the salt from their skin. To bury your nose in the hollow of their neck to breathe their essence in. To see desire in a dark gaze and the ripple of pleasure against skin. To bear witness to sighs of desire and the vigorous creaks of hotel beds. To touch the heart to another, to feel them at the very centre of you.
Archers arms suddenly engulf me, pulling our bodies closer, like he can’t feel enough, our skins slick against the other, our fingers desperate to touch
‘I want to bury myself inside you,’ he whispers, burying his face in my neck.
Everything inside me draws tight, my spine arching from the bed as I throw my head back. I want to watch, want to see his face and his movements, see the slick slide of him as he disappears inside me. But I can do none of this as he begins to fuck me solidly. Fuck me with power and intent, his whispers guttural and making little sense.
‘Archer,ohgodohgodohgod.I’m—’
I’m chanting. Quite possibly losing my mind too, as fluttering turns to pulsing, pulsing to something else. I know I’m not making any sense, not as I try to process the pleasure vibrating through me. I come, white bursts of heat and brilliant light shooting through me. My last conscious though is that every thought I’ve ever had about myself was wrong.
16
Heather
The world swims backinto focus.
‘No more. I’m done.’ Limbs askew, I try to reassemble them though they feel like they no longer belong to me.
‘You don’t really mean it.’ Archer’s face appears in the periphery of my vision, his head swooping down, his lips catching mine before throwing himself down on the mattress beside me with such force, it makes me bounce.
‘I do. Well, for at least a little while. ‘You can’t really be ready to go again, can you?’ I raise my head—about the only part of me that I’m able to move, only to find his palm in my face as he pushes me back down.
‘Pervert. Stop trying to get a look at my junk.’
‘I was not!’ I reply indignantly. ‘Well, not for perverted reasons. Anyway, I had more than my eyes on it twenty minutes ago. I didn’t hear you complain then. Though you did make quite a bit of noise.’
Archer sets off laughing, the sound of it clear and free and doing wonderful things to my stomach, filling it with fluttery butterflies. Or maybe that’s hunger. Rampant sex certainly seems to build up an appetite.I wonder if there’s any cheese left from the room service platter?
‘Are you suggesting I should apologise for enjoying myself?’
‘No. It was quite good for my ego.’ I bite my lip, but it doesn’t help keep in my giggle.
‘Listen to yourself,’ he drawls, ruffling a hand through his sex-messy hair. ‘Fishing for compliments.’
‘Ha! As if. The noises you made were praise enough. I can’t help it if it’s gone to my head. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever done it properly. You know, all the way to the finish line. I surprised myself.’ If nothing else, I was surprised by the strength of my desire to see him come for me, for him to come at the order of my hand and mouth. ‘And while swallowing wasn’t exactly the same as downing a cupcake, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant, sort of brackish and earthy, it was a lot better than the juice cleanse Vee, my friend, tried to get me to stick to last year.’
I sometimes say the wrong thing, it’s part and parcel of having ADHD. Sometimes I say really stupid things, but I think that’s just part of being me. Right now, as this silence descends, extends, I’m trying to work out which one this is.
But then Archer shakes his head as though trying to rattle something out of his ear.
‘Whatever you just said, I heard you love giving me blowjobs.’
‘Well, it didn’t feel like a trip to the dentist.’
‘You know your dentist isn’t supposed to stick his cock in your mouth, right?’ He stares down at me, his smile provocative, those blue eyes of his so very bold.
‘Har-har.’
‘I knew it would be like this between us, you know. It would be sheet tearing, limb flailing, and loud enough to wake the people in the next room.’
‘I hope we haven’t,’ I say, trying to lift my head again. ‘Besides, I think the sheets have just loosened from their hospital corners.’ At least, I hope so. I don’t want to pay for damage to the linen. As I glance down at the sheets, my psyche seems to suddenly realise I’m naked and lying on the bed with Archer Powell, and there are more lights on now than when we started this hours ago—hoursago. The shocking and sudden awareness makes me reach for the loose corner with my feet, dragging it up my calf.
‘It’s a bit late for modesty, babe. I’ve seenallof you now. And. It. Was.Glorious.’ He draws out the final word over many, many syllables. So many, in fact, I have to slap his chest to get him to stop.
‘I can’t help I’m modest and not very sex positive.’ I tug at the sheet, getting it as far as my chest when Archer pulls it the other way.
‘Sex positive,’ he repeats. Ah, so he does own awhat the fuckface. I had wondered. ‘Forgive me, but you sounded pretty positive earlier on.’
