15. Shane
Chapter 15
Shane
By the time the bar was empty and Archer and I were alone, I was a hot mess of need. I was sure that anyone who’d looked at us knew we were doing some kind of not-so-subtle flirting. Locking the door, I turned off the outside lights, leaving only the security lights and the light standards in the parking lot on.
Archer spun on his stool to watch me. He leaned back and rested his elbows on the bar, watching as I lifted the chairs up off the floor and put them on the tables. Mickey had been sent home instead of sticking around to help with the last minute clean up the way he always did. Between the two of us, we’d gotten most of the closing duties done and all I had to do was prep for the cleaning company. They came in every morning and did the floors and the bathrooms.
My skin heated under Archer’s scrutiny as I put the last of the chairs up. He crooked a finger and spread his legs. I don’t think he appreciated how hot he was. His mop of dark hair was mussed from a day of running his fingers through it. He looked tired, but the good kind of tired, not the bone-deep, sad kind of exhausted he’d looked when I first met him.
Unable and unwilling to resist, I went to him. I stood between his legs in the space he made for me and tried not to quiver at that thought. Archer slid his hands up my chest, then gripped my suspenders and tugged me down to him .
“Do you have any idea how ridiculously hot you are in these things?” Archer growled and slanted our mouths together.
If I had an answer, he kissed it right out of me with the frenzied way he overtook me. Still holding nothing but my suspenders, he had me deliciously trapped. Was I considered prey if I willingly ran into the jaws of danger? My heart pounded frantically as I let him sweep his tongue into my mouth. It drew a moan out of me, quietly needy. Maybe not so quietly, because Archer laughed against my mouth and pulled away.
Still holding tight to my suspenders, he gazed up at me. “The things I want to do to you.”
The air rushed out of me like I’d been struck. Whatever they were, I wanted them. Maybe more than I’d wanted anything. What we were doing was ill-advised at best, irresponsible at worst, and it had the potential to blow up in my face. But I found I didn’t care. If having Archer meant that I got to hold tight to this feeling, then I’d have him as long as he’d let me.
Archer was a force of nature. A storm against my skin. He pulled me closer again, close enough to kiss, but he didn’t. I closed my eyes, but could feel his gaze on me. Close as we were, I’d be able to count his eyelashes if I opened my eyes. His breath ghosted across my mouth when he spoke.
“What do you think of restraints?”
Archer’s question shouldn’t have been shocking, but I gasped against his mouth. Not in surprise, but in awe.
“Yes,” I croaked. “Whatever you want, the answer is yes.”
Archer laughed and kissed me lightly, teasing his mouth against mine for the briefest of moments. “Wait here. Don’t move.”
He slid off the stool and slipped into the back, returning a minute later. In the time he was gone, I thought about a million things. Mostly about what he planned to do to me. None of my thoughts were about moving, but Archer seemed pleasantly surprised to find me exactly as he’d left me.
“Oh, I like a man who knows how to do what he’s told,” he said in a husky voice as he approached. I didn’t know what he’d left the room to get and I didn’t care. Nothing else mattered when his hands were suddenly on me again.
Archer unbuttoned my pants, unzipped my fly, and unfastened my suspenders. All the while, I simply stood there trying not to come in my jeans.
Moving a stool, he created space for me and pushed me up against the bar, front first. My dick ached in my pants as he pulled my hands behind my back. Deft fingers twisted my suspenders around my wrists. It wasn’t tight, and I could have gotten free if I wanted to.
No chance in hell of that happening, especially when Archer slid his hand down the front of my pants and gave my cock a tug. I shuddered against him, yearning to feel more of him on me.
“All fucking night I’ve thought of these suspenders.” He pulled and they tightened for a moment before relaxing their hold. When he tightened the restraints, it felt like having his hands on me. Like he was personally holding my wrists. A shudder tore through me. I was powerless to stop the need that coursed through me. Shutting my eyes, I concentrated on the feel of his hand, his strokes too firm, too tight, too perfect. And then his touch was gone.
He laughed like I’d said something funny and then my pants were yanked down to mid-thigh and Archer pressed me forward, urging me to lean against my bar. A strong hand gripped a handful of ass cheek and he made an appreciative sound .
Pulling my briefs down, he let my cock wag in front of me, untouched and leaking precum. Suddenly slick fingers danced their way down between my cheeks and teased my hole.
“Oh fuck,” I cried, already close to losing it. My arms twitched in their bindings.
“Tell me you want me inside you,” Archer ordered. “Tell me how much.”
I laughed. My remaining brain power was being used to not come all over the front of my bar.
“Can’t talk, too horny.”
Archer also laughed, but continued to tease my hole with his fingers. His touch was maddeningly tender. Soft and careful when I wanted anything but.
“Naughty boys don’t get what they want,” he chided, teasing his fingers lower
I automatically widened my stance so he’d have as much room as he wanted to do whatever he wanted. Archer teased my taint with his delicate touch, and it dragged a needy, frustrated sound out of me. “All you have to do is tell me what you want.”
“You, in me. Please, Archer.”
His fingers moved back to my hole and he traced the rim with the pad of his finger before sliding it inside. It wasn’t enough and I let my displeasure be known with an unhappy moan.
“Use your words,” Archer chided, working his finger in and out of me at a glacial pace. The single digit intrusion was more maddening than fulfilling. I didn’t want some of him—I wanted all of him. I’d let him stick his fucking arm up me if that’s what he wanted.
“I need more,” I whined, pressing my ass back, chasing his retreating finger.
“More what? ”
“More of you. In me. Please. I fucking need it.”
Archer gripped the cheek of my ass and gave it a punishing squeeze before pulling it to the side, parting my cheeks. Two fingers thrust up into me, fast and hard and oh so fucking good. My knees went weak at the intrusion.
“Look at you, all slutty for me.” He punctuated his words with punishing thrusts of his fingers. He pegged my prostate a couple times, driving me close to the edge before backing off. “Does my little slut want more?”
The bar was digging into me uncomfortably, but I’d take it if it meant continuing what we were doing. Archer must have sensed my growing discomfort, though, because he moved me and bent me forward, pressing my chest to the stool. His fingers abandoned my ass and I bit back a complaint. Not soon enough to prevent Archer from catching it.
Laughing, he slapped my ass. “Needy slut.”
Pleasure swam through me even as he undid my bound wrists. “Grab the stool.”
I did as he said and watched in fascination as I let him use my suspenders to tie my hands to the stool. Archer stood and put a hand in my hair. If he got any closer, I could suck him off at this height. I looked up at him.
“Let me suck you,” I pleaded. I wanted his taste on my tongue. I wanted to make him happy. To please him in any way I could.
He tightened his grip on my hair and stepped forward. My face was pressed against the bulge in his pants. “Do you want this?”
“Please,” was all I managed to say. “Please.”
“Then you’ll have to be a good little slut and earn it.”
Archer stepped away and, rather than making me beg for his touch, his fingers returned, breaching me. I arched and pressed against him the best I could. Sweat beaded on my forehead. The back of my neck. Goosebumps erupted on my skin as I fucked myself on his fingers.
He pressed himself against my side, letting me feel the hard length of his cock against my leg as he reached around. He gave me one stroke, made a noise in the back of his throat, then withdrew his hand. I heard him spit and then his touch returned. Archer bent the fingers that were in my ass at the same time as he wrapped his other hand around my leaking cock.
“That’s better,” he said. Suddenly his hand moved and he jerked me fast, sending me close to the edge with every rough tug. And just when I thought of going over, he stopped. Squeezing the base of my dick, he prevented my release. The evil bastard didn’t stop pegging my prostate with his other hand.
I was ruined. Wrecked. Gripping onto the barstool, I thrust back, keening and whining when his hand wasn’t moving fast enough, hard enough, going deep enough. I wanted him to fill me. I wanted to ache for days after.
The suspenders bit into my wrists when I tried to reach for Archer. Noticing what I’d done, he laughed.
“Need something?” His grip on my cock had vanished and he slid a third finger into my ass. The stretch was exquisite. The slight burn that gave way to intense pleasure made me feel indescribably good.
“More,” I whined, writhing shamelessly.
“More?” Archer asked. “If I gave you more, do you think you could come without me touching your dick?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” I turned my head and looked back at him, catching his heated gaze. There was something about the way he looked at me that I could never get enough of. Something about his touch that made me want to do anything to earn it, to keep it .
Something glinted in Archer’s eyes and his smile broadened. “What do I get if I make you come without touching your dick?”
“What do you want?” I’d have given him anything. Money. A house. A car. A trip to Puerto Rico. My fucking soul.
“I want to tattoo you.”
“I was going to let you anyway, remember?”
“Can it be a surprise?” Archer’s ministrations had slowed to a point where his touch was starting to frustrate me because it wasn’t enough. He knew it too, judging by the devilish look in his eyes.
It was a risky thing to do, to let someone ink your body without even knowing what they were going to do, but I trusted him not to ink a giant dick on my back.
“Whatever you want,” I promised. “If you can make me come hands-free.”
“Challenge accepted.”