Love You Always (Buttercup Hill #5)

Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

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Archer pulls the car to a stop as close to the house as he can get without ramming through the front door. Even then, we can’t get inside fast enough.

Before I’m out of the car, Archer has already slammed his door shut and walked to my side in three long strides. He sweeps me up into his arms and carries me through the front door, which doesn’t seem to be locked. I loop an arm around his neck, and he pulls me tight against his chest.

“I hope you didn’t have anything planned for today,” he says, taking the stairs two at a time.

“Nothing I can’t cancel.” I think I know what he has in mind, and I am there for it.

“Good. Because I’m not letting you do anything that doesn’t involve my hands on your skin.”

Cue full body swoon.

We reach the doorway of his bedroom, and I peek in at the immaculate space that’s mostly decorated in tan and off-white linen. Fierce sunlight streams through the open blinds of an east-facing window, and somehow, he had the wherewithal to throw the duvet cover over his bed before he left the room so that it looks well-made.

“Sounds like you have an idea or two for how I should spend my day,” I tease, taking in the king-sized bed that seems extra luxurious with giant pillows.

“I have ideas for how you should spend all your days.”

Laying me gently on top of the covers, Archer leans over me and drops his lips to mine, and the soft sweep of his mouth takes the breath from my lungs.

It’s not like anything I’ve experienced before, not from a fling and not from any of the short relationships I’ve had since I first kissed a guy in sixth grade. I thought I knew what it felt like to have my body respond to a kiss, but this…this is every cell in my body lining up and chanting Archer’s name, all calling on him to kiss me longer, harder, deeper.

He does, rolling his hips against mine and driving his erection right where I need the friction. My hips buck up to meet his and I wrap my legs around his waist to pull him closer.

“Better,” I breathe. “Don’t you dare move.”

We pick up where we left off on the driveway, only with less hesitation. We’ve had an hour in the car to work up all kinds of heat and frustration, and now it’s all roaming hands and desperate kisses.

He teases me, circling his hips against mine until I’m so hot and bothered I’m sighing and then he backs away, leaving me wanting. His smirk says he knows exactly what he’s doing, exactly how he’s torturing me. And it’s the best kind of pain.

Pushing himself up to a kneeling position, he looks at me with the rapturous eyes of a predator who wants to devour everything in his wake. And I want to be devoured. After weeks of thinking about him, being near him, and walking away each damn time, I want him so much now it hurts.

Archer takes my hand and pulls me up to sit. “Come. Here,” he growls, eyes darting from my lips to my breasts, like he can’t decide where to begin. Lifting my shirt gingerly over my head, he sinks his lips into my shoulder, kissing his way up the side of my neck and making me shudder with each new area of skin he touches.

“God, Archer. If it feels this good when you kiss my neck, I’m gonna die when you’re inside me.”

It’s like I’ve flipped a switch. His responding growl sounds like he’s being tortured. “Don’t talk like that, princess, or I’ll have to punish you in all sorts of sensual ways that you will fucking love.”

Game on.

He pulls down the straps of my bra and massages my breasts, making my nipples throb and beg for attention.

Reaching behind my back, I snap the clasp, and the bra falls to the bed. Archer stares at my breasts and licks his lips. He drops down to take one nipple into his mouth. It goes hard under the wet massaging motion of his tongue. So hard that it starts to ache.

He massages the other breast with his hand and keeps working my nipple with his tongue until I cry out from the delicious ache.

Lavishing the other nipple with equal treatment, Archer looks like a man feasting at a banquet. Starved and sated at the same time.

“I want you inside me,” I rasp against his neck. “So badly. Having you so close to me in the wine cave and not being able to touch you made me insane.”

“Fuck, princess. I warned you.”

“I know,” I breathe against his neck, licking my way to his ear until he hisses with pleasure .

We’re quickly losing control, clothing flying off. I pull at his belt and unfasten it. He tears off his shirt. I push down his jeans, and he rips them down his legs and tosses them to the floor.

Now, clad only in silk boxer briefs, Archer looks like a marble sculpture, all abs and pecs and muscles I can’t even name. “How do you look like that?” I gasp, reaching for the hot skin that stretches taut over his abs. Running my fingers up and down the rippling muscles gives me chills.

I notice him smirking at me, thoroughly enjoying how much I’m enjoying his body.

Win-win. I’m good with it.

I let my hands roam up over his pecs, which are chiseled and hard from who knows how many hours at the gym. I say a little prayer to the gym gods for stocking extra dumbbells or whatever is necessary for Archer to look like this.

He flinches when I run a nail beneath the waistband of his boxers, shivering as I feather his skin with my nails. I move my hand lower until I reach his hard cock, which feels so good in my hand I let out a sigh. “I mean, really?”

He chuckles and I push the waistband down, freeing him so I can get a nice good look. “Yeah, I’m really gonna need you inside me. Not kidding around here.”

“Okay, that’s it. Last warning.”

With moves of a ninja, he flips me onto my back and peels my pants down so slowly I think I might die from anticipation. He inhales and gradually lets his breath out as he rolls my panties down the length of my legs.

“Well, we’re both naked now. No time to waste,” I say, trying to keep the nervousness from my voice because, well, I’m nervous about how big he is. I may come off like I’m ready for him to impale me, but…what if I can’t take it?

He must see the trepidation on my face because his smile turns to a smirk. “We are not going to rush this, princess. No fucking way. ”

And he doesn’t.

He slowly, torturously moves down on the bed until his face is between my legs, which he spreads gently apart. For such a gruff man, he’s as gentle as a saint. Featherlight touches with his hands. His tongue slowly following. Up the sensitive skin inside each thigh.

Until he reaches my center. He blows a light breath against my wet flesh, and I shudder. Then his tongue sinks in for a long, slow lick.

I’m done with sassy banter now because it’s all I can do to stay conscious. The things he’s doing with his tongue are probably outlawed in several states. He’s so attentive, so thorough. Every lick and suck has me writhing on the bed.

It’s shameless how much I want him inside me, even as he’s delighting me in so many other ways, bringing me higher, closer to orgasm.

He thrusts a finger inside me, curling it against me until I moan. It’s the perfect combination of friction and soft strokes. Then he sucks my clit. Hard.

And I fall off the edge of the planet. Even though I know the Earth is round.

What I know and don’t know becomes irrelevant because this I know: Archer Corbett is giving me the best orgasm I’ve had in my entire life, and he’s not even done.

I’ve barely recovered from shouting his name and mewling for him like a kitten when he pushes his boxers the rest of the way off. Rolling to the side, he makes quick work of grabbing a condom from his nightstand, ripping open the package, and rolling it on.

Then slowly, gloriously, he pushes inside me.

Gone are my thoughts about his size because his size is perfect. We’re two sides of the same coin. Yin and yang. Made for each other, or at least that’s how it feels in this moment of extreme pleasure .

“Princess, you’re so tight. So wet for me. I’ve thought about you so many nights when I was alone…”

His words come out in a rhythm, like a chant he’s combining with the motion of his hips, circling and grinding against me. Thrusting harder. Taking me higher. Until…

He’s shouting my name on an oath and I’m moaning and digging my nails into his back. And we’re both coming apart, falling apart, losing our ever-loving minds.

“Holy shitballs.”

Archer starts to laugh, and I realize I’m the one who just said that.

“Sorry. Unfiltered.”

“No, princess. Never be sorry for that. That was the best thing ever.” Our hearts are pounding, seemingly in unison, as he lays on top of me panting. I’m sweating and heaving indelicately beneath him. And all I can think to say is, “Let’s do that again.”

And we do. All night long.