Our jaunt through the winter wonderland outside did nothing to calm the raging lust galloping through my body.
It’s been too long, and Finley is too sweet, too incredibly soft underneath my fingertips. Once I’m inside her, it won’t take much for this encounter to come to an end. With that in mind, plus the hunger pounding inside me compelling me to bring her endless pleasure, I move down her body, trailing my lips down her stomach. Reaching her pants, I tug them down her legs, chucking them to the side along with her underwear.
Then I settle between her strong thighs, running my hands down to her calves and then back up, smoothing my palms over her skin and taking my time, breathing in her scent, my mouth watering in expectation.
“Archer.” My name is a groan leaving her mouth. She arches her hips toward me, seeking relief.
I don’t make her wait. I start with delicate kisses, brushing my lips against her, rubbing my mouth back and forth, up and down. Gradually, I increase the pressure as her moans get needier and her hands grip my hair harder, her legs flexing and tilting underneath me.
I love the taste of her, the little noises she makes, the way her hips shift under me and her hands clench in my hair. I pull her to the brink of the abyss with kisses, nips, and finally long, lingering licks. Her cries grow in volume and cadence, and then I slip a finger into the heat of her. I reach my free hand up her body, rubbing her nipple with my thumb, and then she goes rigid, arching and bending.
Her body seizes, shaking and shuddering. I keep up the ministrations but ease up slightly, riding it out as the orgasm rolls through her body and she slumps back against the bed.
My body is about to spend right along with her. I don’t want to let go until I can get inside her. The craving to have her heat surrounding me is beyond intense. Logical thought has fled. I’m a mass of need, pure animal instinct pounding in my head and in my cock, craving the relief she can provide. I need her more than I need air to breathe.
Fumbling, half out of my mind, I shake out a dozen condoms, and they fall all over the side of the bed, scattering on the bedspread, some of them tumbling to the floor. I grab the closest one and rip it open with my teeth, moving back between Finley’s legs and sliding it on before pushing into her.
“Oh my God.”
She’s tight, wet, warm, and mine. She smiles up at me, sleepy and satisfied, her arms wrapping around my neck, drawing me down for a kiss while I plunge inside her again and again, my movements increasingly erratic as the building pleasure reaches an inevitable conclusion.
“Finley,” I moan into her mouth, wanting this to last longer but knowing there’s no way I can stop it. Not this first time. I really hope she lets me make it up to her.
She kisses my jaw, trailing her lips over to my ear, nipping at the lobe. “I love the feel of you inside me.” The words are a palpable stroke of her lips, and that’s all it takes to push me into the longest, most gratifying, most forceful orgasm that’s ever spun through my body.
When I come back to earth, I’m lying on the bed on my side. Finley is snuggled into my chest, one of her hands tracing over my shoulder.
“Wow,” I say.
She pulls away far enough to meet my gaze with a shy smile. “Yeah.”
“I promise I’ll last longer next time.” I wince. “Maybe the third or fourth time.”
Her responding smile is bright and instantaneous. “I loved that you wanted me so badly.”
“I still do.” I nip at her chin, and she laughs.
Cupping her face in my palm, I trace her cheek with a careful touch then thread my fingers into the hair at the base of her head to hold on while I kiss her.
It starts out slow, sweet, and gentle, but within a minute, my body stirs.
“Again?” she says, her gaze dipping between us to where my erection is waking up and nudging her thigh.
“And again, and again,” I whisper back and then roll onto my back, dragging her on top of me.
ChapterEighteen
Finley
Iblink my eyes open, awareness leaching in slowly. The room is entrenched in soft darkness. I sit up in the bed and glance around. The clock on the nightstand reads five thirty.
The fireplace is lit, embers casting a soft glow. I’m in Archer’s cabin. Cabin four. I think from now on, I will always think of it as his. As ours.
God, today was amazing. I flop back against the bed as memories flood through me, making my limbs tingle along with my slightly sore nether regions. My eyes fall shut as I conjure the exact moment he tugged his shirt off. I finally got to get my hands on his large, powerful, and well-developed chest, something I’d fantasized about every time my gaze was drawn to the play of muscles flexing under his shirt.
But he’s more than just a handsome face and strong body. Archer is exactly how I pictured he would be in bed: considerate, caring, completely in tune to my needs and what would make me satisfied while also making me feel wanted and desired. Like when he shoved his meticulously packed luggage onto the floor, not caring that everything went flying everywhere or the fact that there was another perfectly fine and empty bed a few feet away. The way he looked at me. The hunger in his gaze, the care in his touch. Just thinking about it makes me want him all over again.
After the first two frantic lovemaking sessions, the third time was slow and sweet. He stared into my eyes, carefully monitoring every reaction, every time breath caught in my throat, every uncontrollable moan, interspersed with deep, wet kisses.