Page 117 of Shots Fired

“I think it’s time for you to become Mrs. Darcy Moore. Are you ready?”

This time, it’s me who kisses him. Beautiful butterflies shimmering throughout my body. “Yes,” I murmur against his lips. “I’m ready.”

Other than the moonlight casting across the still ocean and the faint lights from our hotel, we’re drenched in complete darkness with no one else around.

I’ve lost track of time. It could be midnight, or the sun might be about to rise as I lie back on the sun lounger, legs spread, with my feet buried in soft sand while my husband devours me.

He licks his way up the insides of my thighs, capturing every drop of release as it trickles down my legs.

It’s been like this since he woke me up, told me to wear his jersey, and led me by the hand to the hotel’s private beach.

We couldn’t get married here, for fear of Archer being recognized and pictures appearing on the internet. From the airport to the hotel, we took a private taxi, and Archer wore a lowbaseball cap, shielding his face. So, instead, we said our short vows in a small private room and exchanged rings.

I cried the whole time before Archer carried me back to our room.

But now that everyone’s asleep, we finally have a moment to enjoy the beach together. And, oh my God, am I enjoying it.

Archer’s lips shine with my arousal as he stands from the lounger and pushes down his shorts. He steps out of them and comes to sit in front of me, straddling the lounger as he does.

His cock is hard, and pre-cum leaks from it as I reach forward and wrap my palm around the base.

“Fuck me like this,” he breathes out, voice raspy when I drag my grip to the top. “I want my wife to fuck me, just like this.”

Releasing his cock, I rise from the lounger and sit back down, straddling his hips.

With darkened eyes, he looks into mine, tucking a piece of stray hair behind my ear.

I lift up and sink down onto his cock. Our jaws hang open from the way he stretches my pussy, coupled with the delicious sensation of me taking him.

I rock over him for the first time, and he moans into the night, his pleasure blending with the ocean waves as they break against the shore.

“Loving you as my girl was a privilege; loving you as my wife is the highest honor I’ll ever be granted.” He pushes his hips into me, and I take him and his piercings deeper. “Tell me you want more babies with me.”

When I push a hand through his hair, my rings sparkle in the moonlight. “I want so many babies with you. But I also want it all—the career, the lifestyle, and the family.”

Archer runs a hand across his name, which is stamped on the back of the white jersey he gave me. Even through the thinmaterial, my skin tingles from his touch, and I tighten around his shaft.

“I’ll tell you a million times over until you truly believe it one day: nothing about you or what you want from this life is too much. I promise that, with me, you can have it all.”

As Archer grows harder inside me, I come all over him. I’m impaled on his dick, moving over his body in rough, ragged motions as I fight back my cries.

He reaches beneath the hem of the jersey and finds my swollen clit, pinching it between his fingers. “It’s okay to scream, Doll. In fact, now that you’re officially mine, it’s mandatory. Every time you take my cock, I want to hear you chant my name, right in between the delicious sounds this pretty wife’s pussy makes.”

“Your mouth—it’s filthy,” I moan as he gathers our joint arousal onto his fingers and takes them into his mouth.

He offers his fingers to me next, and I open, sucking them clean.

Archer’s cocky grin appears, his top lip quirked. “What were you saying about dirty mouths? Because I’d say this NHL playboy has infiltrated his innocent British girl.”

Lifting up, I drop back down, and he grits his teeth, trying not to blow.

“You’re right about that. Now, come in me.”

I feel like a world away from the girl who first slept with Archer, the one who thought she preferred zero eye contact and could only orgasm in one position. “I can’t wait to have your baby.”

He releases my clit and pulls the jersey over my head, throwing it on the lounger next to us. My breasts feel sensitive against the cool night air, and it only kicks up the intensity. Next, he loops his hands under my thighs and lifts me up until only the tip of his dick is inside.

He holds me there, staring down at the small bump, which I swear gets visibly bigger each day. Or maybe that’s just my excitement to meet Emily.