Chapter 11
DENVER
Archie leans back and tips my chin up, his eyes twinkling, and then he leans down, and his mouth meets mine. The kiss is rough, full of sharp teeth and bossy tongue, but I lean into it, letting his strong arms pull me into him, giving back just as much as he’s giving me.
My entire body is on fire now, but for different reasons. I’m warm all over and pulsing with need. He must feel it, too, because he grinds against me, holding me tightly, his hips arching into mine.
He’s just as hard as me, I notice, as he notches his dick along the side of my side and begins to gently pulse his hips.
I moan, and he swallows it down with another kiss, the fire now consuming me.
I’m lost in it, lost in him. I have no idea where I am or what’s coming next, but I don’t fucking care.
This is better than the graveyard. Better than the supply closet.
It’s so much more, and as much as I don’t know what to do with myself, I don’t care because I know Archie is going to take care of me.
He lifts me up into his arms, walking us backward as I wrap my legs around his waist, and I hold on as we kiss and kiss and kiss.
And when we fall onto his mattress, we do it together, my legs still curled around his back, hands twisted in his shirt.
His fingers push into my hair as he devours me, taking me for all I’m worth and then a little more.
When he finally pulls away, I chase his lips, but he stops me. It seems he has other plans.
Reaching between us, he attempts to rip my zipper down and pull my fly open. When it doesn’t yield easily, he leans over and grabs something off his nightstand. I can do nothing but watch as a knife appears and he flicks it open, showing me the thick, adorned base and the deadly, sharp edge.
But I’m not afraid.
Somehow, I know he would never hurt me.
His gaze isn’t on my eyes, but it’s locked on my throat, where I’m swallowing thickly, and then he traces it down—as heavy as a touch—until it reaches my crotch.
The blade flicks against the fabric of my pants, one side, then the other.
Sitting up on his knees, he drags the knife down and down until they fall away from my skin, leaving me only in my silk panties.
Leaning down on one arm, he flicks the knife in his fingers and then drags it along the side of my thong, and the fabric splits like soft butter. He removes the silk from my body with a twist of his wrist, leaving me completely bare from the waist down.
His eyes settle on my hard cock, and a bead of precum rises to the tip as though tempting him to taste.
He gives in, reaching out, and swipes it away with his thumb before bringing it to his lips.
His eyes meet mine as he sucks it into his mouth, and as though my body is moving without my permission, my legs spread open farther.
His eyes darken more as he tugs at my shirt, his knife dragging down the middle, taking away the one last piece of fabric separating my skin from his. The flush on my neck grows deeper, and my nipples pucker under his unwavering attention.
He lifts his hand and curls it around his face. ‘Beautiful.’
My heart flutters as he flips the knife shut, and finally, his gaze meets mine. Something wicked dances in his eyes, and then he leans forward, pressing the end of the knife against my lips.
‘Suck,’ he fingerspells.
My lips part, and he presses it against my tongue.
I have never in my life done this, and yet here I am, deep-throating a knife hilt like I’m his own personal whore. It takes no time at all to realize I’ll do things for Archie I’d never do for anyone else.
His hand goes around my aching cock as I suck the knife, my tongue running along the etched metal. He watches it all, his pupils blown out, his cheeks flushed. And when he pulls it from my mouth minutes later, he stares at it.
“Fuck,” I see him say. I don’t hear sounds, so maybe he’s not speaking at all. I fight the urge to reach up and touch his throat to see if he’s making noise.
He moves quickly, making me jump as he leans over and grabs something from a drawer. I see what it is as soon as it’s dropped onto the mattress.
Lube.
My cock jumps. He’s gonna fuck me.
He’s gonna put that big dick inside of me, and god, it’s been so, so fucking long since anyone’s touched me. And god help me, but no one’s ever touched me the way Archie’s doing right now. My cock throbs, and I grip the base to keep me from embarrassing myself because holy shit, I am so turned on.
“Denver,” he says, and this time, I hear my name from his lips. It feels like the first time. Up to this point, he’s only called me his little rabbit, I think, and something about the way his tongue curls around my consonants and vowels makes me even hotter.
I meet his brief gaze before it falls away. “Am I—”
I don’t get the chance to finish my sentence. He grips me by the throat and kisses the words from my lips, then pulls back and knocks his forehead against mine. “You make me very horny.”
Shit. The way he just says that—the way he just lets his thoughts tumble from his lips without overthinking everything.
What must it be like to live that way? I take a breath, then curl my fingers around his wrist and urge him to grip my throat tighter.
I want him to see I’m not afraid. I want him to see that this vulnerable place that nearly ended me is also a place I trust him with.
“Archie,” I say. He stiffens, almost like he’s expecting my words to be sharp and cutting. “I like you so much. I want you to touch me. I want you to fuck me. I want to feel your cock stretching me wide, and I want you to make me come.”
His breath shudders out of his chest, and he lets out a high whine before letting me go, but only to push my knees into my chest. He spreads my thighs open, exposing me to him, and licks his lips like he’s starving for me.
Grabbing the lube from the bed, he uncaps it, moves my balls aside, and squirts some directly onto my hole. He waits a moment, almost like he doesn’t want to touch, but then his fingers massage it in, running gently around my rim. They never enter me, his touch a tease. A promise.
I arch my hips up, wanting more, but he doesn’t give it. Not yet.
Instead, he waits, watching me squirm until I’m begging with my voice and my hands.
“Please.” The word is as ragged against the back of my throat as the sign is trembling on my fingers as I rub my hand in a circle over my chest. “Archie, I need you. Fuck. Please.”
It’s only then that he pushes a finger inside of me, and I can’t stop myself from crying out.
I have zero thought for who might hear it.
For who else is in the house. The only thing that matters in this moment is that after all this time of hunting and stalking, he’s finally giving me what I’ve been craving.
His eyes sparkle, his nostrils flaring as he watches his fingers pump in and out of my hole. The sound is too quiet for me to really hear it, but I have a decent imagination, and I can only hope it’s turning him on.
It must, because after a short forever of stretching me wide, he leans down and takes my dick into his mouth. It’s warm and wet, the perfect suction to his finger fucking me. He matches rhythm like he was born to do it, and pleasure shoots through my limbs, making my face hot and half-numb.
I reach out, fingers tangling into his hair, and use him as leverage to lean up so I can watch what he’s doing to me.
The sight of it is almost too much.
He’s almost too much. He fingers me like it’s the only thing in the world that matters. He sucks my cock like he needs my cum to survive, and the only way to get it from me is to pull it straight from my body.
I feel the familiar tingle of inevitable release, but before I can come, he stops. I cry out as his finger leaves my ass and my dick falls from his lips, but the frustration of having what would have been a gorgeous orgasm interrupted is met with something thick and blunt hitting my rim.
My hands tighten on him when I realize what’s happening, and I lift my hips to meet whatever it is he’s using to toy with me.
It’s not his cock, but something else.
Something hard, unyielding, and cold. I let out a low groan as he swirls it around my wet hole and pushes it in, and that’s when I know.
It’s the knife.
He’s fucking me with the knife hilt, and I’m letting him.
No, more than that. I want him to play with me just like this.
I want him to remind me of the danger he holds within him, knowing that it doesn’t matter because I will never be unsafe here.
Maybe it’s a wild thing to think so soon, but I don’t care.
My intuition has been carefully honed by a lifetime of mistakes, and now I know.
And Archie is someone I can let go with. Fuck, I never want this to stop.
My hole slackens as he works it inside of me, and the moment I relax against the mattress, his mouth returns to my cock. It’s the weirdest sensation to be taken like this. But I want more.
I need more. I want to feel him lose it—to be completely unhinged and take me in the way that will satisfy him.
I lift my hips a little, and he chokes on my cock when it slides down his throat, but he lets out a heavy groan like he wants more.
He pushes the hilt of the knife in deeper like he’s trying to tell me to keep going.
The etchings and inlays on the metal catch on my rim as I thrust harder against his face, making him take me deeper, and it only makes this entire thing more erotic.
My orgasm starts to crest, and I fall back, clutching onto his face tightly as I release into his mouth.
My rim contracts around the knife as he continues to fuck me with it, and it’s only when I come down from the high of my release that he pulls off. Cum lingers on his chin, and he wipes it off with the back of his hand as he stares down at my ass, my hole still stretched around his weapon.