Chapter 33
33
ARCHER
L ayla blinks, grabbing hold of the door handle, like that’s supposed to save her somehow.
“W-what…?” she whimpers.
“I know you heard me,” I say on a growl.
My head is spinning with my stalled orgasm and I’m not quite sure if this is a dream. Layla, beautiful and blushing, wearing nothing but a sleep shirt, is standing in the entryway to my bathroom. I grind my molars together, doing everything in my power not to blow my load at the mere sight of her.
“Climb up on the vanity and sit down, Layla. Let’s have a chat.”
Her nostrils flare and her stare widens with panic. But she slowly backs across the room and perches on the counter beside the sink, never taking her cautious eyes off me.
She opens her mouth—probably to explain herself with some excuse about why she was lurking outside my bathroom—but at this point, I don’t want to hear it.
We’ve both been dancing around our attraction to each other. Tonight, it’s time that we address it head on.
“You’ve been snooping around on me since the day you moved in here,” I accuse.
Her fingers curl around the lip of the counter, turning white with force. “I didn’t know—”
I hold up a hand, shutting her up again. “You say you’re curious about me? All right. Let’s satisfy your curiosity once and for all, shall we?”
I watch the way her chest rises and falls as she sits apprehensively on the counter, staring at me and waiting for what will happen next.
“What is it you’re so curious about, Belle?” I give my aching cock a long stroke and a tight squeeze. Her eyes follow the movement. “You’re curious to see what it is you do to me, aren’t you?…You’re curious about how hard I get when I think about you?…You want to see how I take care of myself every night just so I can get some relief?…Knowing that you’re under this roof and not being able to touch you has been killing me, Layla.”
She whimpers my name—“Archer…”—and it sends electric shocks down my body, making it clear that this icy cold shower won’t solve a thing tonight. Only Layla herself can save me from this sizzling desire that’s been festering inside me.
“I’m curious, too,” I continue, releasing my cock to give my balls some attention. “I’m curious to know how easily I can make you wet…I want to know how quick I can make you come…How many times in one night. Will you like my fingers? Or will you prefer my mouth? And I want to know what you’ll taste like when I finally slide my tongue between the lips of your pussy…Will you let me find out tonight, Belle?”
A breath gets caught in her chest. She squeezes her thighs together and bites down on her bottom lip. Eyes never leaving mine, she nods.
Fuck, yes.
“Take off your T-shirt,” I say, my voice rough and low as I shut off the water and slide the shower door open.
With tremoring hands, Layla reaches for the hem of her shirt. My pulse quickens with every inch of flesh she exposes to me.
Goddamn. She is absolutely exquisite. The paleness of her smooth thighs. The dampness of the gray cotton covering her pussy. The softness of her belly. When I get sight of the undersides of her heavy breasts, I almost unravel right then.
I will myself to keep it together. She hesitates.
“Take it off , Layla,” I command her.
She finally tears the fabric over her head, dropping it in a heap on the bathroom floor. She is a perfectly disheveled mess now, vulnerable and unsure of herself. But she looks so stunning. I’m instantly weakened with the vision on display before me.
My knees threaten to betray me. Lifting an arm above my head, I lean an elbow against the open doorway of the shower to keep myself upright.
“Now, your panties,” I barely manage to rasp out, my control fraying by the second.
Her eyelashes flutter as she hooks her fingers into the sides of her underwear and drags the cotton down, dropping it alongside her discarded T-shirt.
Suddenly, she gives her head a vigorous shake, as if trying to snap out of a trance. Her mahogany hair flies all around her angelic face. “I only came in here to talk about the kiss,” she mutters. “We broke your no kissing rule tonight,” she specifies, her tight nipples taunting me from behind the curtain of her dark, disheveled hair.
But I don’t want to talk about my stupid no kissing rule.
Because now, she’s naked. And perfect. And I’m two seconds away from kissing her again .
“Fuck. Look at you,” I muse, stepping out of the shower but keeping my distance. I just need a minute to admire her. “You look like a dream. So fucking beautiful.”
Layla squirms under my gaze. She pins her legs closed again, this time, seemingly in embarrassment. I won’t have that.
“Spread your legs open for me, Belle.” My tongue darts across my lips. “Put one foot up on the counter.”
Her lips fall open and she sucks in a breath. But she obeys my instructions beautifully, propping one heel up on the edge of the vanity. One hand pressed to the mirror for balance, she spreads herself wide, giving me my first peek at the pretty pink petals between her thighs.
It takes everything in me not to drop to my knees right here, right now. “Yeah, just like that. Good girl.” I encourage her, practically panting already.
My raging cock begs for friction so I wrap my fingers around it again.
I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than this woman. I want to mark her in every way possible. I want to claim her. But I’m so turned on, I don’t even know where to start.
“God—look how wet you are,” I breathe out like an awestruck teenager.
She glances down, sliding her fingers through her wetness and a head-to-toe shiver travels through her body.
“Yes. That’s right, beautiful girl. Use your fingers. Touch yourself. Show me,” I quietly cheer her on.
Her damp fingertips draw circles on her clit and she’s absolutely dripping. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Do you like that?” I ask her. “Do you like showing yourself off to me?”
“Yes…” she breathes out. She throws her head back and groans. “Yes, Archer.”
“Good. Play with that pretty cunt for me. Make a mess all over my vanity and show me how hungry that pussy is tonight,” I command.
Layla rasps out a laugh. “Shit, Archer. Aren’t you supposed to be the quiet one? I thought you were a nice, polite boy.”
“I try my best, Layla. But there’s no polite way to describe the things I’ve been dreaming of doing to you. Now, push your finger into that tight hole for me.”
She groans, spine arching as she obeys my instructions. Slowly, her finger slides inside.
My eyes move from her pussy, up her torso, her breasts, her lips to her desperate, captivating eyes. “God, Layla. You truly are perfection. You know that?”
Her cheeks flush a deep shade of pink. “Can I make a confession?” she asks drunkenly as she continues to stuff her pussy. In and out. In and out. Slowly.
My skin still dripping wet, I take a step toward her, closing the distance between us. I lower my lips to the curve of her neck for a gentle kiss along her throbbing pulse point. “Anything,” I assure her.
Her flesh shivers under my lips. “Only you make me feel this way.” Her voice is suddenly low and shy even as she continues to play with her pussy. “I only feel beautiful when you look at me.”
I lean back to stare into her face. I hate that she doesn’t see herself the way I see her. I hope she’ll allow me to change that. “Well you’re in luck, Belle. Turns out, looking at you is my favorite thing to do.”
Another shiver moves through her. “Never would have guessed you were such a sweet talker, Archer Brighton.”
I take a step closer, positioning myself between her open thighs. I lean in by her neck to inhale the scent of her skin again.
Standing this close, my erection bumps against the inside of her thigh and her eyes flutter shut. “I want to touch you, Layla.”
“Touch me,” she whines, her breasts heaving forward when she arches her back. “Please.”
She looks like a real-life goddess. I’m not even sure I deserve the gift she’s offering me. This gorgeous, supple body, all for me?
“Where?” I rasp out. “Tell me where I can touch you, Belle.”
She stutters a breath. “Anywhere. Every where. Please.”
I gently brush her hair away from her collarbone, pushing the luscious strands over her back. I draw my lips along the curve of her neck, allowing my beard to lightly graze her skin. I’m ready to claim her completely.
But she stops me with a gentle hand on my chest. “Wait.”
I ease back immediately, needing the space to explore her expression.
There’s a tender look in her eyes when she cups my cheek with her free hand. “You kissed me tonight, Archer. Before we go further, I need to know what that means.”
Fuck. She won’t let me run away from this topic, will she? She never lets me run away.
I search my mind, trying to find a non-idiotic way to confess that I have no idea what I’m doing here. All I know is, I want her, even though I shouldn’t. I’ve never felt this conflicted. I usually take a position and stand on it, but when it comes to Layla…
“The kiss, Archer…It was just for the crowd, right? It was so your parents wouldn’t ask questions? So people wouldn’t get suspicious about us?” Her eyes bounce between mine. Searching. Waiting.
“Yes. That kiss at the hockey game was for the crowd,” I concede. “It would have been suspicious if I’d refused to kiss you on the big screens.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, the spark inside her dies and her big brown eyes go cold.
Clearly disappointed, her fingers fall from her pussy. But I quickly scoop up her hand. I greedily suck her sticky fingers clean. Then I softly pucker my lips against her delicate knuckles.
“But this kiss?” I gently graze my lips along hers, my entire body prickling with excitement. “This kiss is for me .”
And I lean down, capturing her surprised gasp with my mouth.
Layla responds by throwing her arms around my neck as my biceps lock her in a tight embrace. Our naked bodies press together, my slick pecs crushed against her warm breasts. The heat we generate together evaporates the water right off my skin. It burns up all the oxygen in the air.
Here in the quiet privacy of my bathroom, I kiss her the way I wanted to kiss her at that hockey game. The way I wanted to kiss her at my birthday party. The way I’ve wanted to kiss her every single day of the past who-knows-how-many years.
I get drunk, kissing her with years of pent up sexual tension.I completely give up on holding back and I pour my everything into this kiss.
When I’m done ravaging her mouth, I tear my lips away from hers, just so I can drag bruising kisses along her jaw and down her neck and across her collarbone. Then my mouth is covering one breast and my tongue is swirling and slurping at her nipple.
She moans for me, arching against me, wordlessly asking for more. Nose buried in my hair, Layla cries out, grating her fingernails through my scalp and down my back.
My hand slithers between her thighs and, with my middle finger, I gather her juices. Then I paint her other nipple with the wetness.
“Oh, my god, Archer.” Her head falls sideways against the mirror and her thighs tighten around my hips. She rocks her pussy against my erection. My cock grows so hard, I’m afraid I’ll pop a vein.
Groaning, I switch to her other breast, sucking off her flavor and nearly losing my damn mind. “Fuck…Yes, Layla,” I grind out when her warm hand closes around my shaft. “So good…Your hand feels so good on me.” I pant. “And you taste so good. And…and…”
Realizing I sound like a blabbering fool, I bite down on my lip and just focus on rocking my pelvis, pumping into her firm grip.
I kiss my way down her body, dragging my tongue and nipping at her flesh with my teeth. Then I’m on my knees, draping her legs over my shoulders and placing kisses along her skin.
“Archer, oh. You don’t have to do…that,” she tells me, like she’s doing me some sort of favor. She tries to swing her legs off my shoulders, but I grip her thighs, holding her in place.
“What do you mean, I don’t have to do that ?” I stare up at her. She’s a queen on her throne, gazing down at me with doubtful eyes.
She tries to mash her thighs together. “My ex didn’t like doing it. He said it was…messy. And he didn’t like the…taste.” Her face is violently red with embarrassment.
“Your so-called ex doesn’t speak for me, Layla.” I stroke my beard along the inside of her thigh. “Let me be the judge of how much I love eating your pussy.” I drag the tip of my nose along the crease of her pelvis. I’m instantly drunk off her scent. “And for the record, there’s no such thing as too messy. I want you to make a mess all over my fucking face.”
“Oh, shit…” she whispers, her thighs falling open for me.
I grin at the victory. “Atta girl.”
I immediately bury my face at her core. I don’t procrastinate or delay. I don’t give her the chance to try and change her mind again. I just dive right in with a long stroke up the middle, from her dripping hole all the way to the throbbing peak of her clit.
Layla emits a ragged cry, one hand flying to the side of my head, her other palm landing against the mirror. “Archer.”
My cock throbs. That’s right, baby. Say my name .
I hold onto her thighs, dipping my tongue deep into her channel and savoring the taste of her.
“Fuck, Belle. You taste amazing,” I tell her, momentarily allowing my eyes to flit up to hers. “Damn delicious.” Her ex is a fucking idiot and this just further confirms it.
“More…” she whines, grinding her hips against the counter and pulling my head back to her core.
I’m smiling to myself as I bury my face back between her legs. I use my hands and my mouth to give her more pleasure than her body can handle.
I indulge on the sounds she makes, on the way she pulls my hair, on the way her thighs lock me in place like a prisoner. I eat her, greedily and thoroughly. Because there’s no other way I’d rather spend the rest of this night.
Layla’s legs begin to tremble and her fingers grip my hair. “Archer…” she gasps.
That’s all the warning I need. She’s about to hit her peak.
“That’s it, Belle. Come for me.” I suck her mound into my mouth, letting my tongue swirl and circle her clit relentlessly. She cries out in a frenzy as she gyrates frantically against my face.
I don’t pause. I don’t think. I don’t fucking breathe.
I remain focused on the objective until the last wave of her orgasm has washed through her. Her head falls to the side, her body lolling against the mirror.
I kiss my way back up her torso until we’re face-to-face again.
Layla is still breathless as she comes down from her high. “Are you okay?” she asks me, tenderly stroking my wet beard.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I just had the time of my life.” I drag my lips to her ear. “Hell—you know what? I’m keeping the hardware store closed tomorrow. I’m spending the next twenty-four hours camped out between these perfect thighs.”
She laughs. I love the sound of it.
“Now, how are you doing?” I brush her bangs away from her eyes.
“I am so fucking amazing right now.” She grins widely.
That wide grin is because of me. I’ve never been prouder of myself.
I bend close and graze my damp mouth against hers. Layla grabs my face, making an intoxicating sound as she parts her lips and lets her tongue dance with mine.
“Mmm,” she groans, hungrily deepening our kiss, like she’s trying to eat my mouth.
“See, Belle? Your taste is intoxicating. Isn’t it?” I roll my tongue against hers once more.
“Yes,” she breathes. “I…I like it.”
When I break the kiss, Layla smiles dopily at me, her expression full of contentment and infatuation. She looks so happy. With me.
Something is happening inside my chest. Something major. Something that scares me. The doors of the crypt are cracking open. My heart is coming back to life. But it never ends well when those feelings dig themselves out of the grave.
Desperate to hide from the sensation, I tuck her face against my chest and pucker my lips against the top of her head. These emotions are a threat to the walls I’ve built. Panic overwhelms me and I scramble for a plan to combat the insurgence.
Clueless to the battle in my head, Layla is busy using my distraction to her advantage. Her palms are sliding down my torso and in the blink of an eye, she’s pushed me against the vanity and— I shit-eth thee not —she’s on her knees.
My eyes widen in shock. “What are you doing?” I groan, trying to fight off the renewed wave of arousal that’s now rising in me.
“What do you think I’m doing?” she sasses back from where she’s now crouched in front of me.
“You don’t have to do anything for me tonight.” I reach for her, trying to hook my hands beneath her arms and pull her to her feet. She has nothing to prove to me. After a long day and a hard-hitting orgasm, I know she must be exhausted.
She just scoffs, pushing my hands away then reaching for my cock. “You must be crazy if you think I’m walking out of here without tasting you tonight. And I’m definitely not leaving you to deal with this monster in the shower all by your lonesome.” Her eyes fixate on my shameless erection.
Before I can talk reason to her, those rosy lips pucker against the spongy head of my erection in a soft kiss, smearing my precum against her perfect mouth.
And fuck all my objections. Her mouth feels so fucking good.
I watch the trajectory of her tongue as she cleans the juices away from my crown. “Admit that you want this,” she demands.
I grind out her name in stern warning even as my eyes flutter with pleasure. “Layla.”
She leans in and licks her tongue up one side of my rod like an ice cream cone. “No,” she says stubbornly. “You constantly put my needs before yours. Tonight, for once, I want you to admit that you want me to take care of you, to please you, to make you come.”
This time, her mouth engulfs my entire crown, giving it a long, slow suck. She pulls back, my eyes seeing stars and her lips making a popping sound.
My fingers stroke through her hair as she kneels on the floor before me. I’m quickly losing this argument. I’m not sure I mind.
“Don’t be noble tonight, Archer. Be selfish. Use my mouth to feel good.”
“Holy shit…” I rasp out, stroking a finger pad along the edge of her dewy bottom lip.
She sucks my finger into her mouth, looking up at me with hooded, pleading eyes.
I’ve never been good at denying Layla anything she needs. And right now, she needs me to let her suck my cock.
Collapsing against the vanity, I pull my finger from her mouth with a command. “Open.”
A wicked smile unfolds across her face. Then her lips part for me.
I take my erection in one hand and guide it toward her. Fingers covering mine, she eagerly clutches my shaft with both hands.
Her lips surround my crown again, slowly lowering down my length. She doesn’t stop until I feel it hit the back of her throat.
“Goddamn,” I hiss out.
Layla pulls back, slowly dragging her mouth to the tip before swallowing my length again. She repeats the process, her fingers holding me firmly at the base.
She does it again and again and again. Picking up speed. Until she’s going wild.
I know I should control myself. But I’m going wild, too. My hips start moving on their own, thrusting against her face.
Layla grabs hold of my ass as I slam into her. Fuck. That only makes me more feral. I clutch onto her hair, riding her mouth as she groans and gags and shows me she wants more.
“Good grief. Am I hurting you?” I grunt out. “I’m hurting you.”
Layla releases me, just long enough to look up with blurry eyes and saliva smearing her chin. “I can handle it, Archer. I want it. Don’t hold back.” She dives right back in.
This is better than any fucking dream I’ve ever had. Layla, on her knees, devouring my cock like I never imagined she’d be capable of.
I can’t remember ever feeling this needy, this desperate, this furiously reckless.
I try—and fail—to slow the relentless drive of my hips. “I can’t…hold back,” I rasp out, “I can’t hold back, Layla. I’m going to…”
I make an effort to withdraw my hips. But it’s futile. Because Layla keeps me in place. She grips my ass and bobs her head, taking me into the depths of her throat.
What the actual fuck?
She moans and her hips roll, humping the air. Like this whole thing is turning her on as much as it is me. That’s when I lose it.
“Can I…?” I manage to scratch out.
Layla frantically nods, her mouth refusing to leave my cock. Thank god because it’s too late for me to pull out anyway. I start coming. My release spurts out in erratic pulses, filling her mouth, spilling from the corners.
I come for what feels like an eternity. Longer and harder than I ever have.
Layla doesn’t blink. She doesn’t flinch. She just accepts every drop of it, like the good girl she is.
The vision of her swallowing my cum is the last image in my mind before my eyes squeeze shut. My pelvis thrusts recklessly until I’ve released the very last spurt.
My head is spinning and my feet are wobbly. But I reach for Layla before I’ve even had a chance to recover. I pull her to her feet.
Gently cupping her flushed cheeks in my hands, I stare into her perfect face. “That was fucking incredible, woman.”
Her eyes sparkle with pride and amazement and awe. “I’ve never done that…well, I mean I have…but…I just…it never felt anything like that.” She wipes my spilled release from her damp lips with the back of her hand. “I really liked doing that for you,” she confesses quietly.
Goddamn, Layla.
I lean in, my tongue lapping thoroughly at the corner of her mouth where she missed a spot. The taste of her pussy still lingers on my tongue as I lick my own juices from her mouth.
I groan. “Fuck. Me and you taste good together, Belle.” I slide my tongue past her lips for a deeper kiss.
Rising onto her tiptoes, she pulls me closer, exploring my mouth with hers. “Yeah. Kind of addictive.”
“ You’re addictive,” I confess, stroking my palms down her sides. “You’re beautiful.”
She throws a quick glance into the mirror, screws up her nose and looks away. “God—when will you stop calling me beautiful?” She shrinks away from me, self-consciously drawing her fingers through her hair.
“That’s never going to happen. Why the fuck would I ever stop?” I pull her into my arms and spin her around so we’re both facing the mirror.
Her 5’5 frame is so small in front of me as I wrap my arms around her. My body swallows hers up. Her hair is all over the place. Her cheeks are flushed red. She has hickies and scratches and bruises from my beard all over her neck and chest.
She looks ruined. She looks mine .
“You’re beautiful, Layla. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. I know it might sound like a superficial thing to say over and over again. But I promise you, it’s not.”
I draw her hair over her shoulder, pressing my mouth to her jaw and kissing a path down her neck.
“When I say you’re beautiful, I’m not just talking about your gorgeous face. Or your sexy body.”
I smooth my hands up her torso until I’m cupping the undersides of both breasts.
“When I say you’re beautiful, I’m also talking about your kind spirit, Belle. Your empathy and your compassion and your generosity.”
I think about all the things she does for me. The way she comes around to check on me whenever my siblings head to the bar without me. The way she seeks me out to make sure I’m okay, even when I’m being a stubborn asshole. Even when I try to hide away from her and act like I want to be alone.
I flick my thumbs over her hard nipples. “No one has a big, loyal heart like yours.”
I recall the way she defended me when those nosy old ladies were pushing all my buttons that day at the hardware store. I think about her lying to my family about being my wedding date.
“You’re my little chihuahua, always trying to stick up for me in your own way. Even when it only gets us into an even bigger mess.”
She giggles breathlessly at that. “A chihuahua?! Never! I’m a pitbull.”
I allow my hand to travel down the front of her body, slipping between her thighs to play with her clit. “No, Belle. You’re my adorable little chihuahua, and I like it.”
With just a few slow swipes and gentle plucks of my fingers, Layla forgets all about our disagreement and she’s breathing hard again.
I’m done arguing, too. I go back to singing her praises. “You’re hot as fuck on the outside. But the essence of your beauty comes from inside, Belle.”
Eyes connected in the finger-smudged mirror, we stare drunkenly at each other. I stuff two fingers into her opening and her walls instantly contract around my knuckles.
“Your body is just the container that holds all the beautiful things you are.”
I whisper by her ear as her breathing grows increasingly hectic. Twisting and curling and probing, I roughly fuck her with my fingers, the sounds of her wetness echoing in the room.
I press the pads of my fingers against her tender g-spot, slowly curling inward. Layla coughs out a startled moan.
And she crumbles in my hands.
As she falls apart, I admire her twisted facial features in the mirror. I’m honored to witness the breathtaking sight of her coming again.
“Everything about you is beautiful, Layla. Don’t ever fucking let anyone tell you otherwise.”
As the echoes of her orgasm melt away, shudders move through her torso and her knees sag. I patiently hold her against me. As she recovers, I hold her like I’d never let her fall.
I reach for a washcloth on the shelf beside the sink. I dampen it with warm water and I use it to wipe her up. When she’s strong enough to stand on her own, I pull on my boxers and I grab my flannel shirt that’s hanging on the back of the bathroom door.
I hold the shirt open for her. “Arms out,” I say, and Layla complies, stepping into me and slipping her arms through the sleeves.
She stands there blushing as I fasten all the buttons, starting at the bottom.
“There. All done.” I give her naked ass a playful swat.
Layla yelps when I slip one arm around her back and the other behind her legs, scooping her off her feet. She clings to me, giggling into my neck as I carry her to her room.
I’m careful not to disturb Sky in his crib as I open the bedroom door. Quietly, I deposit her in her bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin.
This. This is how I should have handled things all those nights ago when she tried to kiss me in the kitchen. Instead of pushing her away, I should have pulled her closer and made her feel like the most gorgeous woman in the world.
I can only pray that I’ve redeemed myself tonight.
She smiles sleepily at me, stroking my sticky beard. “Good night, Lover Man.”
I repress a chuckle. “Good night, Belle.” My lips graze her cheek.
Her eyes flutter shut. Her breaths go deep and steady before I’ve even made it to the threshold.
I still have no fucking clue what I got myself into tonight. But I’m going to enjoy this high while it lasts. Because I’ve got a feeling that tomorrow, I’ll feel the sting.