tighter with every breath.
He could touch her any damn way he wanted. “Pick one. Shock me.”
Archer pulled away and rolled to his back, bringing her on top of him. “Ride me.”
There was no hiding in the crush of her body against his, not this time. She felt the burning weight of his stare as she lifted her hips and struggled to align them above his. His hands gripped her ass and moved her into position, holding her there.
Waiting.
Without looking away, Grace slid her hand down her body. The barest brush of her own fingers made her tremble, but she moved slowly, slicking her fingertips closer and closer to her clit. “Do you want me coming when you fuck me?”
His gaze dropped to fix on her hand. “Do it.”
The command was almost enough. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. “All I have to do is remember your tongue,” she whispered, and then she did remember how it had felt the first time he’d sent her flying, when shock had propelled her past pleasure into a floating sort of bliss.
It didn’t take much. A few firm strokes and the knowledge that he was watching, and tension splintered into hot, shaking pleasure. She cried out as she came, and he pulled her hips down as he thrust up, burying himself to the hilt with a groan.
Her head snapped forward, and she braced both hands on his chest as she struggled for breath. Her heart still pounded with the rhythm of her body’s clenching spasms, but now she was tightening around him, and for a moment she couldn’t decide if she was still coming or coming again.
It didn’t seem to matter. All that mattered was moving, so she dug her fingernails into his chest and rocked up and down. “Like this?”
“Like…” Archer growled and guided her hips. “Fuck, like that .”
She tried to match his rhythm, but he’d tilted her hips so that every rock drove his cock over the spot that melted her bones. Within a few thrusts she was wound tight and tense again, but he had no mercy.
Her knees wobbled when she next tried to lift herself. She moaned, already tensed against the flash of heat that would come when he dragged her down. “Too good, it’s too good—”
He rose up, dropped her on her back, and pushed her thighs wide. “Too good?” He angled her hips and drove into her again.
It was everything she’d been afraid of the first time. Hot and glorious and so intimate, with him hovering over her. “Too good,” she whispered again, and she didn’t even mean the slow climb toward another climax. Sliding her fingers into his hair, she tugged urgently, wanting his tongue, his lips, his kisses. Wanting to drown in him.
Archer claimed her mouth, sweeping his tongue across hers just once before retreating to speak against her lips. “Should be no such thing.”
But there was, and they both knew it. She yanked at his hair, beyond any care for her own dignity as she begged. “That spot, right there—don’t stop fucking me. Please, don’t ever stop.”
He gripped her wrists and pushed them to the bed above her head. “Again—say it again.”
“Don’t stop.” Being trapped couldn’t frighten her, not when the hunger in his voice held a needy edge that made her pleasure the most powerful gift she could bestow. It hung just out of reach, but she didn’t grind up, seeking the touch that would set it free. For once she simply put her release entirely in his hands. “Don’t ever stop fucking me.”
Archer descended on her with a groan, sliding one hand under her hips to lift her into his thrusts. His teeth grazed her jaw, the base of her throat, and finally closed on the soft underside of her chin. A delicate bite, but timed with one of those maddening thrusts that drew her body tight, and it was too much to be contained.
Her world dissolved into sensation, into shuddering bliss and pulsing satisfaction, each throb so exquisite she only got through the first part of his name before the next one stole her breath.
He rode her orgasm with
He could touch her any damn way he wanted. “Pick one. Shock me.”
Archer pulled away and rolled to his back, bringing her on top of him. “Ride me.”
There was no hiding in the crush of her body against his, not this time. She felt the burning weight of his stare as she lifted her hips and struggled to align them above his. His hands gripped her ass and moved her into position, holding her there.
Waiting.
Without looking away, Grace slid her hand down her body. The barest brush of her own fingers made her tremble, but she moved slowly, slicking her fingertips closer and closer to her clit. “Do you want me coming when you fuck me?”
His gaze dropped to fix on her hand. “Do it.”
The command was almost enough. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. “All I have to do is remember your tongue,” she whispered, and then she did remember how it had felt the first time he’d sent her flying, when shock had propelled her past pleasure into a floating sort of bliss.
It didn’t take much. A few firm strokes and the knowledge that he was watching, and tension splintered into hot, shaking pleasure. She cried out as she came, and he pulled her hips down as he thrust up, burying himself to the hilt with a groan.
Her head snapped forward, and she braced both hands on his chest as she struggled for breath. Her heart still pounded with the rhythm of her body’s clenching spasms, but now she was tightening around him, and for a moment she couldn’t decide if she was still coming or coming again.
It didn’t seem to matter. All that mattered was moving, so she dug her fingernails into his chest and rocked up and down. “Like this?”
“Like…” Archer growled and guided her hips. “Fuck, like that .”
She tried to match his rhythm, but he’d tilted her hips so that every rock drove his cock over the spot that melted her bones. Within a few thrusts she was wound tight and tense again, but he had no mercy.
Her knees wobbled when she next tried to lift herself. She moaned, already tensed against the flash of heat that would come when he dragged her down. “Too good, it’s too good—”
He rose up, dropped her on her back, and pushed her thighs wide. “Too good?” He angled her hips and drove into her again.
It was everything she’d been afraid of the first time. Hot and glorious and so intimate, with him hovering over her. “Too good,” she whispered again, and she didn’t even mean the slow climb toward another climax. Sliding her fingers into his hair, she tugged urgently, wanting his tongue, his lips, his kisses. Wanting to drown in him.
Archer claimed her mouth, sweeping his tongue across hers just once before retreating to speak against her lips. “Should be no such thing.”
But there was, and they both knew it. She yanked at his hair, beyond any care for her own dignity as she begged. “That spot, right there—don’t stop fucking me. Please, don’t ever stop.”
He gripped her wrists and pushed them to the bed above her head. “Again—say it again.”
“Don’t stop.” Being trapped couldn’t frighten her, not when the hunger in his voice held a needy edge that made her pleasure the most powerful gift she could bestow. It hung just out of reach, but she didn’t grind up, seeking the touch that would set it free. For once she simply put her release entirely in his hands. “Don’t ever stop fucking me.”
Archer descended on her with a groan, sliding one hand under her hips to lift her into his thrusts. His teeth grazed her jaw, the base of her throat, and finally closed on the soft underside of her chin. A delicate bite, but timed with one of those maddening thrusts that drew her body tight, and it was too much to be contained.
Her world dissolved into sensation, into shuddering bliss and pulsing satisfaction, each throb so exquisite she only got through the first part of his name before the next one stole her breath.
He rode her orgasm with
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