We hung there forever, his hips twitching against mine as aftershocks rocked through us. Laughter swelled up and I giggled. The sound pulled Archie’s attention and he lifted his head, carefully flexing his hands to ease their grip on mine. There was a pull across my shoulders, but I didn’t care. When he looked down at me, he wore a wrecked expression.
“My beautiful girl,” he crooned. “So fucking beautiful and sweet.” The warm voice, hoarse and gentle, wrapped around my thoughts as he released my hands and then buried his face against my throat. The hotness of his breath, the frequency of his pants. “So good to me. So fucking good. Your pussy feels amazing on my cock and watching you come is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I floated, caring for nothing but the feel of him against me and the weight of him covering me.
So good.
I don’t know how long I lay there before he dragged himself up. I moaned at the loss and he pressed fingers to my cheek. “Shh, I’ll be right back.”
I ached a little, but the floating feeling was still there. Water came on in the bathroom, but I didn’t want to move. A moment later, the bed dipped, and Archie leaned down to nuzzle another kiss against my mouth. “Frankie... open your eyes, sweetheart. C’mon, open them up.”
I gazed up at him. He brushed his hand down my face and then held up water. The glass looked amazing particularly with how dry my mouth was. Pushing myself up to sit, I let out a little wince. Not terrible, but everything ached now. My arms. My hands. My legs. My pussy. A good ache, but still aching.
He held the glass steady when my hand shook, and I took a long drink aware of his watchful gaze. After I lowered it, he took a deep drink and then set the glass on the side of the bed. Nudging me back, he crawled in and pulled the blankets around us as he spooned right up to my back. Arms around me, he pressed a kiss to my nape.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
A laugh bubbled up through me. “I’m pretty sure I should be saying that.”
His chuckle teased at me. “You’re welcome, then.” He kept running his nose against my skin. It tickled, and at the same time, it was soothing. Just like his hand on my hip and over my thigh. He’d curled an arm around my shoulders, too, keeping me close.
“This is nice,” I admitted.
“Yeah,” he said, a wondering note there. “It is.”
My eyelids were heavy, but I didn’t quite want to go to sleep. Not while I was floating. I didn’t even know what time it was. I didn’t care except…
“I don’t know if I can sleep over,” I admitted.
“No?” The disappointment in his voice tugged at me. “Jeremy promised you French toast.”
I giggled, then kissed his arm before rubbing my cheek against his biceps. “I know, but I have to work tomorrow, and I have to feed the cats.”
“Call out sick. We can go over early and feed the cats. Then we can spend the day together.”
I groaned, ‘cause that sounded really nice. “I wish I could.”
“You can,” he whispered. “You can totally do it.”
Wiggling, I shifted until he loosened his hold so I could roll over. I slid one leg between his and propped myself against his chest. This was better than nice. We hadn’t turned off the bedroom lights, but they’d dimmed at some point. Archie had reached up and loosened my hair, then ran his fingers through it.
“I can’t,” I told him. “Not this time. But…” I pressed a finger to his lips when he would have complained. “I’ll ask Marsha for Sunday off, since you wanted us all to sleep over tomorrow night.”
He made a face.
“You don’t want me to take Sunday off?”
“No that’s fine, I like that idea, but I have to share you tomorrow night. The guys will all be here. Unless we sneak out of the pool house and come up here.”
I laughed. “Well, I don’t know about that, but I still have to work, and I still have to pick up Mathieu tomorrow.”
His expression shifted.
“Archie, I’m…”
“No,” he said, silencing me with a finger. “We can talk about anything, but not him. Not right now, and not here.”
I nipped his finger.