Chapter 28 #2
He slid one long finger inside me, then another, curling them just so, and the cry that tore from my lips was anything but quiet.
It was sharp and desperate, echoing in the small space.
He fucked me with his fingers then, a slow, deep rhythm that matched the strokes on my clit, pushing me higher and higher, until I was a writhing, trembling mess in his lap.
The coil in my stomach tightened to an impossible degree, a screaming, desperate thing that demanded release.
“Look at me,” he commanded, and my eyes fluttered open, dazed and unfocused.
His face was flushed, his jaw tight with concentration, his eyes burning with a possessive fire that stole my breath.
“I’m going to do so many things to you,” he promised, his voice a low, filthy whisper.
“I’m going to spread you out on my bed and eat your sweet little pussy until you can’t remember your own name.
I’m going to fuck you with my tongue, with my fingers, with my cock until you’re screaming and begging for more.
I’m going to make you come so hard you see stars. ”
His words were the final push. The coil inside me snapped, and pleasure, sharp and blinding, crashed over me.
I cried out his name, my body arching against him as wave after wave of ecstasy washed through me.
I shuddered and shook, my hands fisting in his shirt, my mind going blank, my entire world narrowing down to the exquisite, pulsing pleasure he was giving me.
As I came down, panting and flushed, his movements slowed, his fingers stroking me gently through the aftershocks.
I was boneless, spent, a shuddering, flushed mess.
But Archie was far from finished. He shifted, his hands leaving my pants to grip the hem of my shirt.
With a few impatient tugs, he pulled it over my head, tossing it into the back seat.
His gaze dropped to my chest, to the simple cotton and lace bra I wore, and his eyes darkened.
He leaned in, his mouth hot against my skin as he pressed a kiss to the swell of my breast above the cup of my bra.
Then he closed his lips over my nipple, sucking it through the thin lace.
The rough, wet fabric against the sensitive peak sent a fresh jolt of desire straight through me.
I gasped, my hands flying to his shoulders, my nails digging in.
He teased me, alternating between sharp, sucking pulls and soothing sweeps of his tongue, until I was writhing in his lap again, my body already humming with a renewed need.
The Ferrari was small, the space cramped and awkward, but Archie was undeterred. He moved with a confident, single-minded purpose, his hands and mouth never ceasing their exploration. He was devouring me, and I was letting him, eager for everything he was willing to give.
He brought me to the edge again with his clever fingers, his mouth still worshipping my breasts, his filthy whispers painting a vivid picture of all the things he wanted to do to me.
Just as I was about to tip over again, he stopped, pulling back to look at me.
His face was flushed, his lips swollen, his eyes burning with an intensity that made my heart ache.
“Not yet,” he murmured, his voice rough with restraint.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear, his breath warm and tickling.
“When I make you come again,” he whispered, his words a dark, seductive promise, “it’s going to be on my cock.
And after that, I’m going to eat you out until you can’t see straight.
There are so many things I want to do with you, Frankie. So many things.”
His words, a raw and explicit declaration of his desire, left me shuddering, flushed and shaken, a fresh wave of arousal washing over me, so potent it was almost painful. I was completely and utterly at his mercy, and I had never felt more alive.
I was breathless, my lungs burning for air that wouldn't come. My limbs felt heavy, languid, saturated with a pleasure so profound it was almost painful. I’d never felt this way before, never been so completely undone, so thoroughly seen.
Every nerve ending was still humming, a low, thrumming vibration that echoed the frantic beat of my heart.
I was a mess of tangled limbs and raw emotion, and the look in Archie’s eyes told me he knew it.
He looked smug, triumphant, and utterly captivated.
A slow, molten heat was building again, deep in my core, a lazy, insistent fire that promised to burn just as hot as the last one. My muscles felt like warm honey, and all I wanted was to give him back even a fraction of the earth-shattering bliss he’d just given me.
"Can I touch you?" The question came out before I could stop it, my voice so hot and husky with need that it barely sounded like my own.
Archie threw his head back and laughed, a real, genuine, uninhibited sound that made my stomach clench. "Babe, if you touch me, I'm going to come like a virgin seeing his first pair of tits."
He met my gaze again, and the laughter in his eyes was instantly replaced by a heat so intense it felt like a physical touch. His gaze devoured me, lingering on my chest where my bra was still doing a poor job of hiding my hardened nipples.
"Trust me when I say those tits had nothing on yours," he growled, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly murmur. "I want to suck those nipples until they're as puffy and swollen as your clit is."
His words were absolutely drowning me, a filthy, intoxicating flood that stole the air from my lungs. A fresh wave of arousal washed over me, so potent it made me dizzy. "But I want to touch you," I insisted, my voice trembling with desperation. "I want you to feel as good as me..."
He groaned, a low, pained sound, as if my words were a physical blow. When I whispered, "Please," he let out a harsh, ragged breath, his control visibly wavering. "Anything you want," he breathed, the words a raw, open promise.
But he didn't let me touch him. Not yet.
Instead, he lowered his head again, his mouth finding my breasts with an unerring accuracy.
He sucked and nipped and teased, his teeth scraping gently against my sensitive skin, his tongue soothing the sting.
He worshipped me with his mouth, driving me to the brink of madness until I was squirming in his lap, my body aching for a release I knew he wouldn't give me just yet.
Finally, when I was a whimpering, writhing mess, he pulled back, his chest heaving. "Okay," he said, his voice rough. "Okay. Your turn."
He helped me climb off his lap, my limbs trembling as I maneuvered over the center console.
I knelt on the passenger seat, my gaze locked on his as I reached for the button on his pants.
He didn't stop me. He watched me, his eyes dark and hungry, as he opened them for me, his movements slow and deliberate.
His cock sprang free, and my breath caught in my throat. He was long and hard and beautifully curved, the head flushed a deep, angry red. He was so much more than I was expecting, so much more than I had let myself imagine. A thrill, sharp and terrifying, shot through me.
I wrapped my hand around him, my fingers barely able to close around his thick girth.
He was hot and heavy in my palm, the skin velvety soft over the rigid steel beneath.
He let out a harsh hiss, his head falling back against the headrest. His hand came down to cover mine, his fingers tightening over mine, guiding me in a slow, firm stroke.
"Can I come in your mouth?" His question was a raw, ragged whisper, and it flushed me with a heat so intense it was almost unbearable.
I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. "I haven't..." I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.
Something like exquisite pleasure, dark and painful, crossed his face. "Then I'll show you," he said, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "But only if you want to..."
And that was it. That was the thing that tripped the switch inside me. The raw, unfiltered desire in his voice, the gentle, unwavering respect in his eyes. He wasn't taking. He was asking. He was offering. And I wanted everything he had to give.
Without another word, I dipped my head down and took him in my mouth.
He was hot and thick on my tongue, the taste of him salty and male.
I didn't really know what I was doing, not really, but I knew the idea of it, the mechanics of it. I’d had a lot of experience in other ways, but this was uncharted territory.
I did know how to stroke him, though, and I used my hand to work the base of his cock as I swirled my tongue around the head, experimenting with pressure and speed.
He fisted my hair, his fingers tangling in the strands, his hips pushing up in a slow, shallow rhythm. "Relax," he murmured, his voice strained. "Relax your throat and I'll show you..."
And I did. I trusted him. I relaxed my jaw, my throat, and let him take control. He fucked my mouth then, his movements slow and careful at first, then faster, deeper, his hips pistoning as he chased his release. It didn't take long. His breathing grew ragged, his grip on my hair tightening.
"Frankie," he gasped, his voice tight with warning. "I'm going to come..."
I didn't pull away. I held on, taking him deeper, and when he came, I swallowed every drop, the hot, salty taste of him flooding my mouth. I gagged a little, my eyes watering, but I didn't stop, not until he was spent, his body going limp beneath me.
I pulled back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and looked up at him.
He was wrecked. Utterly and completely wrecked.
His chest was heaving, his face flushed, his eyes glazed with a sated, blissed-out haze.
And seeing him like that, seeing him so completely undone by me, unlocked something deep inside me.
Something dark and powerful and fiercely, unapologetically me.
I had done that. I had brought him pleasure.
And I wanted to do it again. And again. And again.
“Archie…”
At my whisper, he cupped my face and at his urging, I leaned into his kiss. He didn’t hesitate to sweep his tongue into my mouth, nothing seemed to deter him, not even the taste of his own release. Why that turned me inside out, I had no idea. But I was already groaning as I held onto him.
“Give me a minute,” he whispered against my lips then kissed me again. “Because when I can drive, we’re going home and to my bedroom and we’re locking the door.”
“What about—”
“No,” he said and the single syllable demanded obedience. “No one and nothing is getting in our way. You and me, Frankie. My bed…”
I locked my eyes on his and swallowed. There were probably dozens of reasons it was bad to push this there, but I ignored all of them. Because that was where Archie wanted me and I ached for him.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Your bed.”
“Fuck,” he exhaled on a long groan as his hand flexed against my cheek. “I’m already getting hard again.”
At the words, I glanced down to where his cock was already beginning to twitch as it stiffened. And I couldn’t help it, I grinned. “Good.”
“Good?” He raised his brows and my grin widened.
“Yes, good. I want to feel you inside of me.”
For the space of four long heartbeats, he stared at me and then he snagged my shirt from the backseat. “Put this on. We need to go home. Now.”
His urgency just added another flush to my pleasure and I dragged my shirt on as he zipped back up. My jeans were still undone and my panties were soaked, but even as I slid back into my seat and pulled on the seatbelt, I was utterly aware of his heated stare.
“Keep looking at me like that Frankie, and I’m going to strip you naked and have you on the hood of this car.”
That… didn’t sound like a bad thing, and I had to bite my lip to hold back the comment.
A low chuckle escaped him. “Oh, my babe is a dirty girl.” He rubbed my thigh. “You just give me a list, we’ll make them all come true.”
“Let’s start with your bed.” The fact I could even get the words out startled me, but Archie’s smile was worth it.
“Yes,” he said with a rumble as he started the engine before he kissed me one more time. “Let’s.”