He guided her closer to the glass and helped her place her palms on the window, the cool hard glass against her heated skin making her shiver. She watched their reflection—her flushed, glowing skin, and Archer, looming behind her like a shadowed protector. Tall. Bare. Powerful. All while wearing the helmet that somehow amplified the intensity of the moment.
His hands slid slowly over her hips, then up, palms grazing her waist, ribs, and finally cupping her breasts from behind. His thumbs found her nipples and began to tease them—slow, purposeful strokes that made her gasp.
“Watch,” he murmured through the helmet, the voice modulator sending a low vibration straight through her.
She did. She watched his fingers strum her, her own body arching into his touch like a live wire. She was trembling, breath fogging the glass. And then—he shifted.
With one hand still at her chest, the other slipped lower, trailing down her belly until it found the slick heat between her legs. His fingers explored her, slow and sure, circling her clit until her knees threatened to give out.
“You feel that?” he whispered, the modulated rasp making her moan. “That’s all for me.”
“Archer..." Her voice was already unraveling.
He lined himself up behind her, letting her feel the weight of him before slowly easing forward. The first push was slow—almost too slow—until he was fully seated inside her. Her body clenched around him in greedy welcome.
Morgan gasped as she felt the crisp hair on his thighs meet the back of hers. Her back arched and hands pressed firmly against the glass as their bodies joined, her mouth open in a silent moan, his dark form claiming her from behind. The helmet gleamed in the city light, a contrast to their bare, slick skin. It was surreal. Erotic. Utterly consuming.
His groan as they fully came together was pure magic.
“You feel so much better than I could have ever dreamed. You fit me so perfectly Morgan.”
His declarations had her involuntarily squeezing around his hard length. It was a tight fit, but she was so wet and ready for him that it helped them join completely. Deeply, just how he had told her he wanted.
Archer began to move—deep, rolling thrusts that made her entire body rock forward with each stroke. His fingers never stopped strumming her clit, sending sparks through her with every pass. He adjusted the angle, and her cry echoed off the windowpane.
“Don’t look away,” he said, voice low and urgent. “I want you to see how I take you. How you take me.”
She couldn’t have looked away if she tried. She watched as his ragged breaths became too much as they moved together before he flipped the visor up, for a clear breath. She couldn’t see his features in the depths of his helmet through the reflection, but she could feel his eyes on her.
She kept watching, the sight of them—raw, beautiful, unfiltered—sent her spiraling. Her climax built fast, her thighs quaking, her moans growing louder.
“That’s it,” Archer coaxed. “Let go for me.”
And she did. She shattered with a cry, her hands splayed against the glass as her body convulsed around him.
He followed her over the edge moments later, groaning her name, his hips slamming forward as he emptied inside her. His seed warming her from the inside.
They stayed there, breathless, bodies still joined. He leaned over her, his helmet resting against the back of her shoulder—his hands soft now, soothing instead of demanding. His breath puffing against her back through the open visor.
When he finally withdrew from her depths and turned down his visor again, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him, still facing their reflection.
“You,” he murmured, “Are going to ruin me.”
Still catching her breath, Morgan slowly turned in his arms as she felt his seed leaking onto her thighs, her sensitive nipples brushing his chest as she faced him. Her chest rose and fell with the aftershocks, but her gaze locked on the dark helmet that concealed him—always him. And yet, it didn’t feel like a barrier anymore. It felt like part of the man who had just undone her completely.
She reached up, fingers trembling slightly, and let them rest against the cool, curved surface. Her reflection stared back—flushed cheeks, mussed hair, wonder inher eyes.
Then, rising onto her tiptoes, she tugged him down just enough to press a kiss to the helmet. A soft, tender press of lips over where she imagined his mouth might be. Not demanding, not desperate. Just... hers.
Emotion swelled in her chest—thick and tender and overwhelming. She dropped back to her heels and leaned in again, this time pressing her mouth to the space just over his heart, gently kissing it before she sucked a small mark there onto his peck and he let out a groan. His skin was warm beneath her lips, the faint beat of his heart thrumming against her mouth.
She lifted her head, wrapped her arms around his neck and held on—tight, completely unguarded.
He didn’t hesitate. He gathered her up like she weighed nothing, her legs instinctively circling his waist as he lifted her effortlessly. He seemed to not mind his own seed smearing against them, so she let herself go boneless as he moved them. She felt the strength in his arms, the heat of his skin, the restrained urgency that still simmered between them.
Morgan chuckled quietly, breath catching against his neck, before she sucked hard on the muscular tendons and felt his steady gate falter before she heard the soft click of a switch—the motorized hum of blinds lowering to shut out the city lights. The room darkened into a velvety black. She could barely make him out in the dimness, before he made it to the bed and laid them both atop it.
She heard him remove the helmet and she reached for him, hands mapping familiar terrain—his chest, his arms, the dip of his waist, before moving up to trace his facial features in the darkness.
