Page 112 of Dead Vengeance

The whine that escapes me would be embarrassing in any other situation, but judging by the snicker that tickles over my wet skin, I think it’s exactly what he’s after.

On he goes, kissing, biting, his strong hand holding my leg where he wants it while I squirm against the soft rug, luxuriant on my naked back.

“You keep your hands up there,” he tells me sternly, “and maybe when I’m done enjoying myself, I’ll let you come.”

Let me? I’m not sure he realises how close I am. How close I got myself sucking his dick. If he really grasps what’s going on here—what he’s capable of doing to me.

Pleasuring him is… pleasuring me. Though I can’t pretend I’m not grateful for the break, because I wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer, and I want him to be impressed with me. I want to make him happy. I want to give him the best orgasm he’s ever had.

His hands palm my ass, lifting me, spreading me wide, and I’m both excited and a little scared at the thought of him sinking his cock straight in. I’m not sure I’d even stop him, because I’m so desperate to be fucked by this man that it isn’t funny. But I’ll almost definitely regret it afterwards.

He drops a kiss on my right cheek, a bite, and fuck I want to take hold of myself, ease a little of the desperation that’s building up. But I know better.

“Look how gorgeous you are,” he purrs.

So maybe I flex my torso a bit, trying to be the sex object he’s thrown down on his office floor to enjoy. I raise my eyes to his, attempting a sultry look. But Archer’s eyes are firmly focused… on my ass.

And maybe I would never have thought of my ass that way, but he’s obviously enjoying it so I won’t complain.

Especially when he growls, “I can’t wait to see you full of my cum.”

The idea sends me wild. Me, stuffed full of Archer’s cum, and him, smashing into me, making me drip all over his nice floor.

“Fuck me, Archer,” I beg. “Right here. Please. Please, will you?”

He actually laughs. And I just about die. Particularly when he says, “Not today, honey.”

“Not today?” I practically whine. “Why not today? I’m here and-and-and-and… Why not today?”

His fingers tighten, digging into the flesh of my ass. “Because an ass like yours needs to be savoured.”

What does he… Could he… Is he going to…

My entire existence melts into the first kiss of his warm mouth on my ass. His tongue so wet and hot and fuck he feels good.

I know this happens. I know people do it. To other people. No one has ever done this to me, but there’s a first time for everything, clearly.

And just like that, I’m in heaven.

Fuck, how can that feel so good?

He’s over here telling me he’s long-term single, but… he must be some kind of experienced. That, or he just really likes eating ass. My ass. The incredibly sexy sounds that escape him are almost-undeniable evidence of that. But still…

My instinct is to reach down, to say, ‘You don’t have to. Please, let me.’ And I do slip a hand down to his shoulder, even if I can’t speak over the finger I’ve wedged in my mouth.

But Archer’s hand settles on my stomach, applies a little weight there, like he thinks I might try to get away. Or like he knows…

Like he knows I’d feel some kind of guilty about letting him do this. Because I never stop. I never let anyone else take care of me. And even now, here, when I know he wants this, I can’t help but think I need to be up, active. Be the one doing everything.

His fingers dig deeper in, he wrenches me wider, and his tongue…. God, the way he circles me, his pressure firm in just the right places. He’s sending a cascade of pleasure through every inch of me. I don’t think my cock has ever been this hard. And he’s so close to it. The slightest brush might set me off. Does he know that? Is that why he slips his other hand down beneath my ass, lifting me like I’m this morning’s sixth cup of Earl Grey tea?

My hand slides from his shoulder, falls right near my dick and… dare I?

The movement’s slow, like I know I’m going to get caught for this. Disciplined… The idea drives me to madness, and I take a firm grip, relief and too much pleasure all at once ripping a hot gasp out of me.

Archer immediately lets go. He takes my wrist, the right kind of rough, and thrusts it over my head. The other one’s snatched up, they’re drawn together, and I’m caught, wrist locked, the enormous weight of this tall, beautiful man stretched out over me, his face an inch from mine.

“That was very bad, Liam,” he says. He says it so darkly my heart flutters, and I wonder what’s coming for me.