“Perfect,” he breathed, positioning himself between her legs.
The first touch of his tongue against her core drew a cry from Morgan’s lips. Archer took his time, lapping up her exquisite juices, exploring her with deliberate thoroughness,swiping the metal stud of his piercing just right to drive her wild. He slid one finger inside her, then two, curving them up to find just the right spot that made her gasp his name.
“Archer,” she panted, her hands finding his hair, fingers tangling tightly in the strands. “Please, I need—”
“I know what you need,” he assured her, increasing the pressure and speed of his movements.
When her thighs began to tremble on either side of his head, he focused his attention on her most sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue and piercing working in tandem with his fingers. Morgan’s release, when it came, was spectacular—her body trying to arch away from him as he held her still, a cry torn from her throat, wetness flooding his tongue as she pulsed tightly around his fingers.
Archer worked her through it, gentling his touch as the aftershocks subsided. Then he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, using the sensitive skin there to wipe his face of her wetness only to lick it up before moving back up her body.
His own need was nearly painful now, his erection pulling at the waistband of his boxers. He removed them and positioned himself above Morgan, lifting her legs to rest on his shoulders.
“I want to feel you,” he told her, his voice strained with desire. “Not inside you, but close.”
Morgan nodded eagerly, still breathless from her orgasm as she reached out to him, her hands finding his hips, holding on tight.
Archer positioned himself so his length slid between her thighs, the sensitive skin there still slick from her release. The pressure and heat were perfect as he held her thighs tight against his chest and he began to move, establishing a rhythm that allowed him to keep pressure against her core with each thrust.
“Oh,” Morgan gasped, clearly surprised by the intensity of the sensation. “That’s—”
“Good?” Archer asked, maintaining the steady motion that was quickly bringing him to the edge.
“Amazing,” she confirmed, her fingers digging tighter into his hips, nails digging in slightly as she held on. He let go with one hand and reached down to pinch and gently twist one bouncing nipple and he continued to thrust against her.
The dual stimulation soon had Morgan climbing toward another peak, her breathing becoming irregular, small sounds of pleasure escaping her lips. Archer increased his pace, chasing his own release while ensuring each thrust provided the friction she needed.
When Morgan cried out again, her second orgasm washing over her, the pulsing of her body and the slick heat between her thighs pushed Archer over the edge. His release came with staggering intensity, spilling across her stomach as he groaned her name.
For several moments, they remained locked together, both catching their breath. Then Archer carefully lowered her legs and pressed a kiss to her knee as he rubbed them from the harsh angle.
“Don’t move,” he instructed gently. “I’ll be right back.”
He slipped into the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before wetting a washcloth from under the sink with warm water. Returning to Morgan, he tenderly cleaned her stomach and thighs, taking care to be gentle with any oversensitive areas.
When he finished, he adjusted her onto her side before removing her blindfold, staying behind her so she still couldn’t see his face. “How are you feeling?” he asked as he lounged behind her, brushing her hair back from her forehead and around to one side of her neck.
“Like I’ve melted into the mattress,” Morgan replied with a drowsy smile. “That was... incredible.”
“That was just the beginning,” Archer promised, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Rest now. I’ll be right here.”
He pulled the covers over them both, pulling Morgan’s limp form against his chest, her back to his front, his semi-hard dick nestled tightly against her ass. As her breathing deepened into sleep, Archer found himself idly stroking her arm as he reflected on the complexities of their situation.
The cameras in her apartment, unmentioned. The work issues that might implicate her in fraud. His own dual identity that kept a wall between them even in their most intimate moments.
Yet despite it all, holding Morgan as she slept felt right in a way nothing else in his carefully compartmentalized life did. Whatever challenges lay ahead—and there would be many—this connection was worth fighting for.
Archer tightened his arm around Morgan’s waist as he held her tight, allowing himself to join her in sleep. Tomorrow would bring its own complications. For tonight, this was enough.
16
Morgan
Morgan woke to sunlight filtering through her curtains and the lingering scent of sandalwood on her pillow. She reached across the bed, unsurprised to find the space beside her empty. Archer had a habit of slipping away before dawn—another aspect of the mystery that surrounded him.
She stretched, feeling the pleasant ache in muscles well-used the night before. Their evening together had been... transcendent. The way he’d taken control, focusing entirely on her pleasure while maintaining his anonymity had awakened something in her she hadn’t known existed. Even without seeing his face, even without the full act of sex, she felt more connected to him than she had to anyone in years.
As she rose to prepare for work, Morgan discovered a folded note on her bedside table, written in Archer’s now-familiar elegant handwriting:Last night was extraordinary. Counting the hours until I see you again.
