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My pussy aches from how intense this is, even when it’s an exercise to keep breathing between the slow, rhythmic thrusts of his cock.
He’s sexy and bossy and so fucking hard I want him to slam into me right now.
I’m so wet, I’ve soaked my little shorts. When he looks down between my legs to see, I know he notices. His eyes darken as I come up for air.
“Will you come in my mouth? What do you want next?” I ask, licking my lips.
It’s not that I need to be commanded, but Archer has such a voice, and it would be a crime if I didn’t let him use it.
When he doesn’t answer, I slide my fingers up his thighs, stopping short of reaching where I know he wants me to go.
On reflex, he thrusts his hips, and I grin.
“You have to tell me, silly.”
“Never had you pegged for a dirty girl,” he mutters, his fist tightening in my hair.
“What do you want, Archer Rory? Tell me.”
He groans. “Just put your mouth back on me. Fuck, I want to taste your pussy. You make me want a thousand things, all hard to decide, Winnie.”
When I pull his shorts fully down his legs, I shiver. His cock leaks on my fingers as I stroke him slowly, engulfing him again with my mouth.
When I lick the moisture off the tip, his other hand fists my hair harder, drawing me into him.
I take him fully in my mouth this time, pushing until he’s back against my throat.
It’s not tender, not sweet, not like two new lovers should be.
This is fully sensual, a concert of skin and moans.
Sex doesn’t always have to be a slow burn. I’m not the kind of girl who expects flowers after letting a man plaster her face.
Of course, that’s what my parents wanted. The good girl, their picture-perfect pawn on the chessboard of money and power.
Mom still thinks I’m shy and guarded, protecting my body like it’s a sin to be wanted. Kept pure until marriage to the dullest man in the world.
If I’d married Holden, I know how it would’ve been. Sex would have been a chore like cleaning the kitchen, the same as our whole lives.
In all the time we ‘dated,’ we never once slept together.
It didn’t take long to figure out he preferred his phone to real women. I noticed when he passed me his phone a couple times to look up restaurants or directions and he had a dozen porn tabs open.
The whole time we dated, Holden never took me back to his bed even once. But being sexually compatible didn’t matter, not when we were supposed to be soulmates politically.
Another pawn.
Another prop.
Another wasted life.
But with Archer, there’s no doubt he makes this feel electric.
This thing between us is unhinged, dirty and demented and volcanic.
We’re teetering on knife’s edge of losing our minds and Ilove it.
Logically, yes, this is a bad idea we’ll regret tomorrow. But I can’t bring myself to care when he’s gripping my hair and thrusting this hard.