33. Archer #2
It’s obscene, the picture we’re painting in the mirror.
One hand wrapped around the pole, knuckles white with strain.
My other in his hair, tugging at the strands with desperation.
Legs thrown over his wide shoulders, shaking with his movement between them.
My breasts are spilling over the top of my tight sports bra, the swell of my stomach on display as Archer holds me up against the pole, my body hovering midair while he ruthlessly ruins me with his tongue and lips.
“So good,” he murmurs against me. “Taste so good. So wet for me.” He expels a full, throaty, desperate moan into my core. “Just for me. So…” Panting, Archer rasps, “Mine.”
Pleasure coils tight, clustering in my core and building toward an implosion that could rival the Big Bang itself. “Oh, God. I—”
“You are, Allie.” The words are hardly audible from his lips, because he doesn’t let up. He works at me relentlessly, sucking and nibbling and coaxing a powerful climax from the very depths of me. “Goddess.”
“Fuck.” I’m losing it. “Fuck.” I’m coming. “Fuck.” My back bows, limbs boneless, body numb as my release rushes from me, that cluster bursting as stars blanket my vision and I lose all composure.
Grinding against his face, I ride out my orgasm, strength depleting as I fall off the pole and force him to hold me up as he continues lapping every last drop of my arousal my body has to offer.
My breath hitches as he lifts off his knees, keeping my thighs over his shoulder as he stands.
He unwraps my limbs from his and slowly lowers me until my feet hit the floor, but my quivering legs cause me to sway.
Archer holds me in place, gazing down at me with heated eyes—lips still glistening with my wetness as he catches his breath.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
“Good. So good.”
“Good enough to take this cock?”
My brows rocket into my hairline as I stare up at him. “Here?”
He smirks. “You got to watch. I didn’t.”
I bite my lip, heat racing to my cheeks.
Archer spins me around so that I face the wall again. From this angle I can see us from every mirror in the room. Head-on, from the sides, and the wall behind us. A thousand reflections of him and me.
Archer grips my waist, walking us forward, up to the barre in front of the mirror. He pauses, eyes boring through mine in the reflection, the dim accent lighting casting his skin in shades of blue.
“Pretty girl. My pretty girl,” he murmurs, calloused hand sliding over my stomach and up to my chest. “Let me see you, baby.” He grips the fabric of my bra, pulling it down so that my nipples finally spill out, the straps falling off my shoulders.
“There you are. So fucking beautiful. Do you have any idea?”
His eyes track my gaze through the mirror, bursting with raw emotion, evident even in the darkness.
He drags his hand higher, gripping my jaw as he forces me to stare straight-on.
“Do you see yourself, Amor? Look at you. How you could’ve ever questioned my devotion to you is beyond me.
Look into those eyes of yours.” And I do.
I watch them flare, endless, dark depths of raw reverence toward him.
“Do you see what I do? These eyes…” He extends his thumb, brushing it over my bottom lip.
“This mouth. So pretty and sweet and filthy.” He drops his mouth to my temple, whispering over my skin.
“This beautiful fucking mind. Look at yourself and see you how I see you, Allie. You are everything. Everything, Amor. Never question that again.”
“Archer,” I whisper, watching my eyes turn from passion-laced to emotion-welled. Misty with his conviction. “I…” I don’t know what to say.
The sensation he drums up inside me, the effervescent thread between us—it’s a connection beyond language.
There aren’t words for what we are. I think, perhaps, because this type of affinity between two beings has never existed before he and I created it, and neither of us possess the ability to garner a description for what we’ve found together.
“I know,” he rasps, as if reading every thought inside my head. “Can I show you?”
“Please.”
His hand falls to my belly again, while the other runs over my ass before I hear the shuffling of his shorts behind me. “How are you feeling? How is the baby feeling?”
“Good. We’re both good. This is safe.”
Archer was at a team visit during my last appointment with Dr. Abbey a few days ago, but I asked her about safe sex.
I knew when he returned, my desire was going to hit a breaking point.
She mentioned that standing, braced against the back of a chair with him behind me was a comfortable, safe, and popular position among pregnant women.
I figure a barre works just as well.
“Good.” His eyes darken as he nods before his palm is splayed over the center of my back. “Bend forward and spread your legs.” He taps my ankle with his foot. I comply. “Atta girl.”
I extend my arms, bracing the bar as I fold in half and straighten my spine, pressing my ass into him. He folds over me, breath hot against my ear as he swipes his cock through my slit, causing my breath to catch inside my throat.
My body welcomes him eagerly, still wet and sated from his mouth as he slides inside.
“Oh my—Oh fuck.” His eyes leave my reflection as his head kicks back and his throat works with a rough whimper. “I missed you so bad.”
I hum, tightening around him as his words unravel me. I could come from the sound of his voice alone, I think. So, him filling me wholly—his breath and touch and cock enveloping the entirety of my being—has me spiraling toward a second release already.
I’m quivering uncontrollably, raised to my toes as he thrusts deeper. “I’m not going to last, Amor. Slip a hand between those pretty thighs and touch your pussy for me. Give me one more before I fill you up, yeah?”
I don’t even need to touch myself. I’m ready to burst.
But I preen under his command, so I take one arm off the bar and glide it between my legs, brushing a finger over my swollen clit. I go further, creating a v with my fingers around the place our bodies join, feeling him move in and out of me.
The sound of us is audibly wet, our twin moans cascading down the studio walls and mingling with the soft music still playing through the speaker.
“God.” My head falls back against his chest, eyes fluttering closed.
There is a sudden tug on the back of my bun and my eyes snap open as he tilts my head forward and my gaze lands on the mirror again.
“Didn’t say you can stop looking,” he growls into my ear. Archer’s hand is knotted in my hair, holding my head in place, forcing me to see myself. “Watch the way your body takes my cock, Allie. See how it was made for me? How I was made for you?”
My lips part, but noise is beyond me.
He pulls my hair harder. “Tell me you see it. Tell me you understand. Only we can feel like this.”
That sensation beyond language. That affinity created only for us.
“I…” I breathe. “See… It.”
We look…feral. Archer almost entirely clothed, me almost entirely bared. Glittering with sweat in the seductive darkness of the room. He pounds into me, holding my stomach with one hand—a tender caress in the midst of a fervent claiming—while pulling my hair with the other.
His eyes are wild—molten heat that kisses my skin with a flaming stare.
I work between my legs, desperate pleasure taking shape in every one of my features as I shamelessly watch him ravage me with pure possession.
That pleasure swells, and I’m so lost inside the bliss of it all that I more watch than feel the way my body goes taut, back arching as my mouth drops open, a wail of ecstasy tearing from my lips as an all-consuming wave rushes over my skin, soothing the heat Archer’s lit inside my veins.
He pulses, exhaling a deep, gruff moan that sinks its claws into my very soul before he stills, spilling inside me. He continues to throb, expelling his release and filling every space I have to offer him.
He’s panting against the nape of my neck.
A world class athlete, body honed to perfection through rigorous training, yet he’s dissolved into a racing heart that pounds wildly against my spine as he chases breath he can’t seem to catch.
“We… Are…” He breathes. “So good at that.”
“Yeah.” I sigh, core still trembling with the weight of my climax. “Yeah.”
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.
I look up, done with the mirror, needing to see his face with clarity. His chin snaps down, peering at me through sated sapphire eyes. “So are you.”
A soft smile spreads over his cheeks, gaze dancing with allure as he studies me. Sliding his hand out of my hair and around my jaw, he palms my cheek before feathering his lips between mine. “I love you, Allie Cat.”
After we’ve cleaned up, disinfected the studio, and locked the door behind us, Archer and I stride through the charming marketplace where Sea Rose is located and toward the parking lot.
“So, I actually did make a dinner reservation earlier, but we missed it by…” He pulls his phone from his pocket, checking the time, nodding. “By a long shot.”
“Don’t blame me.” I hold out a palm. “I didn’t insist on giving me two orgasms.”
“Your body speaks, Amor.” He kisses my temple. “She was screaming at me, and I’m a very good listener.”