Chapter 39 Gabriel #2
Each deliberate stroke sent a jolt of pleasure straight through me, making my hips instinctively thrust forward, seeking more.
My breath hitched, caught in my throat as he maintained eye contact, watching every flicker in my expression, every tremor that wracked my body.
His grip was firm, expertly teasing and building the pressure, never quite fast enough, never quite slow enough.
"That's it, Pretty Boy," he purred, his voice a low rumble that made my nerves hum.
My head fell back against the wall, my jaw clenched, trying to suppress the sounds that wanted to escape.
But it was useless. Archer’s hand was a master of torture and delight, and my body had betrayed me, giving in completely to the exquisite sensations.
My vision swam, every nerve ending alive and screaming.
The world narrowed to Archer’s face, his knowing smirk, and the incredible heat building between his palm and my cock.
I was helpless, utterly at his mercy, and then he just…
stopped. A desperate whimper escaped my lips at the abrupt absence of his touch.
Archer chuckled darkly, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Do you remember what I told you when you refused to admit the truth that night?”
I frowned.
“I told you that when you finally admitted the truth, I’d make you beg.” His breath was warm against my ear, causing me to shiver. “So, beg, Gabriel.”
A fresh wave of desire washed through me, mixed with irritation. “You’re a real asshole,” I gasped, trying to use my hold on his shoulders to push him away.
“Oh, I’m an asshole, am I?” he chuckled softly, before drawing another shiver out of me by tracing my ear with the tip of his tongue. His fingers brushed tantalizingly close to the head of my cock, but didn’t touch. “Then show me how much you want this asshole , Pretty Boy."
My only response was a frustrated growl, even as my hips shifted toward his hand as if they had a mind of their own.
“Beg,” he whispered. “Tell me what you want.”
The humiliation of the request warred with the overwhelming need gripping my senses, but the need won. “I want you,” I pleaded. “Please, Archer. I need you to claim me, to fuck me and make me cum .”
He pulled back, a mix of triumph and tenderness on his face. “Good boy,” he rasped, taking my cock in hand and giving it another firm stroke. “We need to get you ready first.”
He released me again, and I whined, pawing at his shoulders mindlessly.
Archer simply chuckled, stepping back to give himself room to remove my shirt and then my pants, his hands roaming my body with each inch of skin that was revealed.
I was trembling with overwhelming need when he finally stepped back and let his gaze rake over my nude form.
“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he rasped.
He forced his gaze away long enough to undo his belt and pants, letting them slide down his muscular thighs, then he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside.
It was almost comical how quickly he stripped down to nothing; I would have laughed if it hadn’t been so fucking hot.
Archer gave me a knowing smirk, hands held out at his side, inviting me to look my fill.
And look I did, letting my eyes track down his chest to his trim waist until it settled on his thick cock.
I swallowed hard, practically a gulp, as it dawned on me that I’d asked him to fuck me with it.
“Come here,” Archer demanded, reaching out to take my hand and wrap it around his dick. He guided me in stroking his length, not dropping his gaze from mine when he let out a groan of pleasure. “Fuck, just like that,” he hissed, his hand dropping away as I gained confidence.
I reveled in the way his hips bucked toward my hand as I stroked him.
That long-buried part of me, finally emerging to claim what I’d always denied wanting.
Some primal part of me surged with satisfaction over pleasing my mate.
My hand slowed as the word echoed in my mind, just as Archer snarled the same out loud.
“Mine,” he growled. “My mate.”
Before I could decide how I felt about that, he forced me to let go of his cock and pulled me in for a rough kiss that was all tongue and teeth.
“Fuck, lie down on the bed. Need to get you ready, before I can’t think straight and hurt you, stuffing you full of my cock.”
My dick twitched in response, and I was moving before I decided to. I sprawled across Bechora’s bed on my back, watching Archer as he moved to dig around in the drawer to Bechora’s nightstand. He pulled out a bottle of lube and climbed onto the bed, hovering over me.
“How’d you know that was there?” I asked.
“I may or may not have stashed it, just in case,” he grinned, leaning down to kiss me and pressing his hips forward until I felt his cock slide against mine.
I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped me, trailing off into a moan as he thrust against me.
Archer shifted to hold himself up on one hand and gripped the back of my thigh, raising my leg toward my chest. My hand immediately moved to hold it in place, as if my body knew what he wanted.
A sly smile spread across his lips as he let go and used his free hand to grab the lube again and pop it open.
He shifted, each movement causing him to rub against my aching cock and send jolts of pleasure through me.
My eyes fell closed as I fought against the rising need to cum.
I felt his body pull away and whined as he shifted his weight to his knees, the hand he’d been using to support his weight sliding down my body and leaving goosebumps in its wake, until it slipped around my hip, and I felt his fingers spreading my ass cheeks.
A cold, wet sensation followed, causing me to jolt and my eyes to fly open.
“Relax,” he murmured, a soft smile on his face. “I need to get you ready.
His finger swirled around my puckered hole, teasing as he slathered me with lube.
My hips shifted on their own again, chasing the sensation, and then he sank a finger inside of me.
A long, guttural moan ripped from me, and I went still.
Archer’s other hand slid up the inside of my leg until he wrapped his hand around my cock, stroking me in time with the thrusts of his fingers.
He worked me over, adding a second finger, alternating between thrusts and spreading them open before adding a third, until I was a writhing, incoherent mess.
“You ready for me, Pretty Boy?” he asked, sliding his fingers out of me, his voice tight with need.
“Fuck. Yes. Please, ” I panted.
The fat head of his cock nudged my hole, and I tensed as he pressed forward, breaching the tight ring of muscles.
“Breathe,” he murmured, stroking my cock again. “Just relax and let me in.”
I blew out a breath, forcing myself to relax.
Archer continued to stroke my cock, precum leaking from my tip onto his hand as he slowly eased himself deeper, until his hips pressed against my ass.
He stilled, giving me a moment to adjust to the overwhelming feeling of fullness, before slowly pulling out and pressing forward again.
His cock hit a spot inside me I didn’t know existed, causing my body to light up with pleasure so intense I was sure it would be the end of me.
I cried out, my back arching off the bed as stars exploded behind my eyelids.
Archer's thrusts picked up a steady rhythm, each one dragging over that electric spot inside me, building a pressure that coiled tighter and tighter.
His hand on my cock matched the pace—firm, relentless strokes that had me gasping, my hips bucking wildly to meet him.
"Fuck, Gabriel," he growled, voice rough with restraint, his free hand pinning my thigh higher to open me up. Sweat glistened on his chest, muscles flexing with every powerful snap of his hips. "So tight. So perfect. Taking me like you were made for it."
I couldn't form words, only broken moans and his name, chanted like a prayer.
The fullness of him stretching me, claiming me, shattered the last walls I'd built.
My fingers clawed at the sheets, then at his arms, pulling him closer as the world blurred into heat and friction.
Precum slicked his palm, easing the glide, but it wasn't enough—I needed more .
Archer leaned down, capturing my mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing my cries as he angled deeper, hitting that spot harder.
The coil snapped. Pleasure ripped through me like lightning, my cock pulsing in his grip as I came with a shattered shout, ropes of cum spilling over his hand and onto my stomach.
My body clenched around him, milking him, and that was all it took.
With a guttural roar, Archer buried himself to the hilt, his rhythm faltering as he followed me over the edge.
Hot pulses filled me, marking me from the inside out, his body shuddering against mine, and his mouth moved to my shoulder, as his teeth sank into my skin.
Instinct took over any rational thought left in me, and I turned my head to sink my fangs into his neck.
A mating bond snapped into place, the sensation causing my balls to draw tight as I came for the second time.
The sensation stole the breath from my lungs and whited out my vision.
I felt Archer’s teeth leave my shoulder, and my fangs slid free of his neck before his weight collapsed forward.
His forehead pressed against mine, and I blinked rapidly, his face coming into focus again as the whiteness faded from my vision.
After a long moment, he lifted his head, eyes dark and sated, thumb brushing a streak of sweat from my temple. "Mine," he murmured again, softer this time, sealing it with a gentle kiss.
I nodded weakly, too wrecked to argue, a lazy smile tugging at my lips as reality—and acceptance—settled in.