Their bodies came together again, slower this time. Deeper. Like a conversation with no words, only touch and breath and movement. His hand cradled her hip as he sank into her. Her fingertips grazed the back of his neck before digging into his hair, her lips parting as a soft moan escaped before he melded their lips together.
His body above hers, hers rising to meet him—it was everything. Intimate. Exposed. Real.
She didn’t need his face.
She needed this.
“I see you,” she whispered, the words catching on a breath. “Even like this... I see you.”
His thrusts deepened at that, controlled but aching. She couldn’t see his expression, but she didn’t have to. She felt it in every touch, every motion, every low sound that vibrated in his chest.
He held her as if she might vanish.
She held him like she finally had something to lose.
When her second release tore through her, Morgan cried out his name, her body trembling as it clenched around him in waves. Archer followed moments later, his groan rough and reverent as he spilled inside her, still buried deep, his body tight with restraint until the very end.
They didn’t move.
Still joined, their breathing slowed together in the darkened hush of the room, the only sound the soft hum of the city beyond the window and the occasional catch of breath as their bodies slowly relaxed.
Eventually, he eased from her and collapsed beside her, gathering her against him without a word.
“That was..." she began, her voice raw with emotion and pleasure.
“Yes,” he said, the single word heavy with shared understanding.
He slid them beneath the covers and drew her close, arms curled around her protectively, as she rested her head on his bare chest, her fingers splaying across the steady rhythm of his heart.
“I’ve never felt anything like that before,” she whispered into the dark.
His voice came low and honest. “Neither have I. It’s never been like this before.”
Something in her chest softened. Opened. Whatever shadows lingered between them, whatever truths remained unspoken, this—this—felt undeniable.
She let her fingers trace slow circles over his chest, cataloging the feel of his skin, the warmth of him, the way he held her like she mattered.
Her thoughts drifted to Alexandra Winters’ words, “The most important truths often hide in plain sight.”
What truth was she missing?
Was there something staring her in the face that she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—see?
Morgan tried to chase the thought, but it slipped through her fingers like mist. Tonight wasn’t for questions. Tonight was for the quiet knowing of being held, for the comfort of skin against skin in the dark.
Whatever tomorrow brought—whatever fallout waited from her job, from his secrets—this moment was enough.
What they were building was already changing her. Already worth the risk.
With that certainty settling low and warm in her chest, Morgan let herself drift.
Safe in the arms of a man whose face she hadn’t seen...
But whose heart, somehow, she already trusted.
17
Archer
