His fingers trail up my body, cupping my breasts. One hand glides downward, coming to a rest between our bodies, his thumb rubbing against the bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs.
“Archer,” I breathe his name in and out.
I can’t wait anymore. I rip open the condom and get up on my knees to sheathe him before sliding back down, loving the way he fills me, the way he watches me, the way his hands worship and arouse.
We move together, gasping and shifting. I lean over to kiss him, his tongue thrusting into my mouth in time with his hips. Pleasure spirals and twists through me, through him, his chest shaking under my hands as we climax together, shuddering and shaking and shattering as one.
I slump on top of him, boneless and satisfied, his fingers drifting through my hair.
“Let’s never leave this bed,” I mumble.
He chuckles, the sound a rumble in my ear. “Those terms are acceptable. But let’s shower first.”
But first, we finish eating dinner, leaving the chocolate cake for later. The food is cold, but who cares? It tastes better than anything I’ve ever eaten. After the shower, during which I spend an inordinate amount of time washing all of my favorite spots on his body—which takes a while—we get back under the covers. In the darkness, lying face to face, we speak in whispered tones about nothing of major importance. Just mundane things, like his favorite color is purple, mine is blue. His favorite movie isThe Princess Bride, and mine isEver After. We debate whetherGrey’s AnatomyorChicago Medis better and where to find the best pizza in the city.
I want to know everything about him, all the little things and the big things. It’s scary and thrilling, and when we share the chocolate cake, it’s also arousing.
Especially when Archer spreads some of the chocolate frosting on my skin and cleans it up with his mouth.
I’ve never felt this way about anyone, ever. Granted, it’s not like I’ve had a ton of experience or partners, but with Archer, everything is . . . effortless.
One thought lingers as I descend into slumber.
I wish I could keep him.
Iwake up in early-morning light with one arm wrapped around my waist and a large palm cupping my breast with gentle possession. Archer’s breath tickles the back of my neck, and a thick rod of heat presses against my back.
Considering the number of times we’ve had sex in the past twenty-four hours—I think we got halfway through that condom box—I can’t believe he’s still aroused.
His hand moves, his thumb tripping over my nipple, and I arch back against him as heat floods through my body.
Damn.
I can’t believeI’mstill aroused.
“Finley.” His voice is a sleepy growl that vibrates through my back and flows out and down, igniting fire through my limbs.
I stretch away from him to grab for the box of condoms.
“Again?” Now his voice is tired and amused. His palm flattens down my spine, smoothing over my skin. “Are you sure you’re not too sore?”
“Not yet.” I turn around with a condom in hand, reaching for him. “Not even close.”
Thirty minutes later, I’m half asleep, sprawled on top of him, my ear pressed to his chest, lulled by the beat of his heart and his slow, easy breaths. His fingers trail circles over my upper back.
“I have an idea that might help you save this place.”
I lift my head, yanked immediately out of my drowsy stupor.
His brows furrow. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want. I don’t want to upset you or ruin this time together, but I have to tell you.”
I scoot up and rub my nose against his to make him smile again before pulling back. “You won’t ruin it. Unless all the sex was a part of some ruse to get me to relent to Oliver’s deal in exchange for a whole lot of sex. In which case, it’s working.”
He chuckles and brushes a kiss against my lips. Then another. And another. Then he licks into my mouth, one hand meandering down to my waist to shift me closer, his hips twisting to press his erection rightthere.
I hiss in a sharp, aroused breath. “Wait.” I lean back. “Archer. You were going to tell me your idea.”
He blinks at me. “Oh. Right. Sorry. It’s really easy to be distracted when you’re naked.”