Archer
Minka rises over me in the dark, her long mahogany locks tickling her bare flesh, her head tilting back with ecstasy, gifting me with the perfect view of her delicate throat.
Her pulse pounds against the side of her neck.
Her tits gently sway to the same rhythm as her hips.
And because she’s so fucking flawless, she crushes my cock and rides me now that it’s damn near midnight and the sun has finally given us a break.
The summer heat remains within the walls, the bricks sucking warmth into their pores for eighteen hours of the day.
We can’t even sleep with the bedroom door open, to give our single window something to work with, encouraging a flow of air to pass through.
But none of that matters, not even the sweat that beads everywhere our skin touches, because I hold my wife’s hips in my palms. In the silence, she whimpers, breathless and desperate as shocks rocket through her body and into mine.
“Fuckkk, Minka.” I push up to my elbow and take her nipple between my lips, suckling on the hard tip until my brain could almost be convinced she alone could sustain my life.
I choke out a desperate breath, clinging to my sanity and praying my balls don’t fail me too soon. “You’re so fuckin’ tight.”
“Come here.” I release her nipple and tilt my head back, then I drag her down and thrill in the way our lips clash. In how her tongue duels with mine, and her hot breath fills my lungs. “I’ll never tire of this.”
“I hope not.” She glides over my lap with slow, mind-destroying strokes that stoke the fire in my belly.
Building it. Taunting it. She bites my bottom lip just hard enough to make me hiss, to steal my release for half a beat as my brain scrambles to understand the next sensation, but then she squeezes my cock and brings me right back to where I was, crushed inside the fiery depths of her sweet pussy and loving every single moment of the pain.
I still taste her on my tongue. I know she tastes herself, too. I wrap my arm around her hip, my grip tight enough to bruise, and when she lifts, I position my hand and slip a finger into her asshole when she comes down again.
She bucks wild with pleasure, crying out. “Fuck, Archer!”
My phone bleats in the darkness, the ringtone as grating on my soul as if I’d hauled the side of my face over a barbed wire fence. Still, she lifts over my lap and sucks my soul clear out of my chest, then she drops and exhales again.
We’re just one person with two beating hearts.
“Ignore it,” she moans, quickening her pace to meet the frantic thunder of her pulse. “If you pretend you never heard it, it never happened.”
I fall backwards, hitting the pillows with a thump and robbing myself of her mouth. Her tongue. Her tits. But I still have her, I grudgingly admit. Her pussy slinging us toward completion, and her strong thighs carrying her all the way.
Blindly reaching out with my left hand, I knock a water bottle from the bedside table and send it toppling to the floor.
A notebook. I hit the alarm clock, slamming it against the wall with a noisy clatter.
But then I lay my palm over my vibrating phone and rip the fucker right off its charger cable.
“I’d prefer to pretend we didn’t hear it.
” Minka leans over me, her hair like a blanket on my chest, and her lips forming a perfect O around my nipple.
She bites, following the sting with a gentle lave of her tongue.
She suckles, then switches sides and ensures she’s fair in all the things she does.
“I’m so close to coming, Archer. I don’t want to invite them in yet. ”
I pull her back by her hair and earn her look of disbelief, then I clap my hand over her mouth to silence her panting breaths, and at the same time, I answer my phone and bring the device to my ear. “Detective Archer Malone.”
“We got one, Arch.” Already on the move, Fletch passes through his apartment, either already having made, or currently making, arrangements for Mia to be cared for in his absence. “Dispatch called. Incident out by the bay. One confirmed dead, one being treated for gunshot wounds.”
Ecstasy boils in my blood, stealing my focus so all I see is Minka. Work? Gone. Fletch? Doesn’t exist. She’s all I feel. Fuck, she’s all I know.
“Archer? You copy?”
“Yep.” I scrunch my eyes shut and close my lips. Because fuck, I don’t want him to hear me moan.
“Well, are you coming?”
“Mmhmm. In a sec.”
“Good,” he snaps out, passing through a door and pulling it shut behind him. “I’ll text you the address. See you there in twenty.”
“Uh-huh.” I end the call and toss my phone, and planting my feet on the bed, I shove upwards with a violence that I almost feel bad about.
Almost.
But I don’t.
I explode and fill my wife, drenching her core with white, hot cum that drips out again.
There just isn’t enough room for my cock, my seed, and her release, too.
She chokes on her cry, twitching over me, bringing us to a clenching stop that crushes my cock and vibrates all the way to the base of my heart.
In the silence, I hear the thrum of her pulse.
In the dark, I feel the moisture of her tears on her cheeks.
And in the almost-midnight solitude, I drag her down.
I force her to lie with me, to take just one more minute before we’re forced to rejoin the real world.
And because this is my favorite part, I bathe in the aftershocks of her pussy clenching around me.
The electrical current that two humans create until a man obsessed with fucking learns that he’s kind of obsessed with that minute or two right after, as well.
Minka pants, long, chest-expanding breaths that have her lifting and lowering over me.
Her hair creates a curtain over my shoulder, her lashes tickling my flesh.
So many tiny sensations I never paid attention to before her.
The tang of her sweat on my tongue, the most delicious beverage I have ever consumed.
The dew that forms between her skin and mine, so soft, so comforting, even when everything outside of us is hotter than an inferno.
“I didn’t like hearing Fletch’s voice while I was coming.”
I bark out a laugh, destroying the gentle silence this hour rewards us with.
“It was weird and uncomfortable,” she snickers. “It almost ruined what we’d been working hard for.”
“Oddly, it didn’t hinder my orgasm one bit.”
She pushes up and sits high over me, glowering in the shadows, though that glower makes way for a smile, too.
“You’re a freak.” Exhaling, she combs her fingers through her hair, dragging the long locks into a ponytail, only to pause and glance longingly toward the mess that is our bedside table. “I need a hair tie.”
“You need a sleep.” Still, I reach out and search the table. “I’ve been called into work, Chief. But I don’t hear your phone ringing.”
“That’s because, usually, the responding homicide detectives arrive on scene, determine death, then make the call to the medical examiner’s office.
But seeing as how we know calling me is a foregone conclusion, why don’t we skip the part where you pretend I don’t have to get dressed too, and we can share the ride to wherever the hell we’ve gotta go?
” She accepts my offering and works the elastic into her hair.
“If I must get up, I’d rather ride with you. ”
“I could call the medical examiner’s office and request a different M.E.
” While her hands are busy, I sit up and nibble on her plump bottom lip.
“I wonder if you realize I could simply call someone else? Ya know, one of the M.E.s on the night shift. It’s a whole phenomenon where these humans sleep during the day, knowing they must work at night.
And those who sleep at night, work during daylight hours. ”
“Sure, except I can’t sleep without you.
” She finishes with her hair and smacks a kiss on my jaw, then she spins away, disconnecting us with the cold callousness of a woman with no heart.
She leaves my cock bare, wet with our mixed pleasure, and inches toward the edge of the bed.
Snagging one of my shirts, she shrugs it on and makes her way toward the door.
“Give me two minutes to shower the sweat and sex off, then I’ll be ready. ”
“We could shower together.” I squint as she opens the door, the blinding light from the living room television screaming along the hall. “He won’t notice.”
“If we shower together, I doubt we’ll be only two minutes.
” Her eyes dance with what I swear is challenge, with ‘force your way into the shower, Malone, and test me.’ But then she grabs the hem of my shirt, tugs it down to cover her thighs, and dashes into the hall.
In the space of a single second, the bathroom door slams and makes a pointed, unwavering statement.
Stay out.
Groaning, I flop back against the mattress, my cock still hard despite my release, my skin sweaty, my sheets messy with what we’ve done, and unfortunately for me, my door wide open, so if my brother wanders this way, he’ll see more than I feel like dealing with when midnight is so near.
“Dammit, Fletch.” I roll off my bed and slide silky boxers up my legs, then I find a pair of jeans and a fresh shirt to change into just as soon as Mayet vacates the bathroom.
And since I have time, I use the two minutes to find an outfit for her, too.
Pants and a blouse. Short sleeves, because it’s still so fucking hot.
And lightweight material, so she doesn’t sweat even in the dark.
I count seconds in my head, all the way to a hundred and twenty, so when time is up and the pipes rattle in the walls, I head into the hall, push my way through the bathroom door, and tag team my way under blissfully cool water.
“I picked clothes out for you.” I close my eyes and tilt my face back. “You’re in charge of coffee. Meet me in the kitchen in three minutes.”
She snorts. But I guess she agrees because she makes her way into the hall and closes the door behind her back. Thirty seconds later, the delicious scent of fresh coffee weaves throughout the apartment and promises there’ll be no sleep for either of us tonight.