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“Right there,” he exhales as he pumps into me.
My shoulders are getting slightly stiff from the position I’m in, but my head hangs low, and it’s making me dizzy and even more disoriented as I swim in the sensations.
My butt is up in the air like I’m an offering. I’m so wet, drenched, in fact, that Archer is moving effortlessly inside me. My orgasm subsides, but his hardness inside me starts another wave of pleasure.
Just then, his hands spread my butt cheeks, and his finger swipes the moisture to my back entrance and starts massaging it.
I’ve always been afraid to let go with men. With Archer, even more so. Mistrust, pride—yeah, I know my faults, they all play a role. Archer and I have taken a big step ahead, but there’s always caution. We fuck wildly, but it’s a power game, always is.
But something is missing in his gaze tonight. There’s no cockiness. Since our love language is sex, he’s using it to make me let go.
I want to wiggle away from his finger. It’s somewhere it’s not supposed to touch. I want to tell him to stop, but it feels surprisingly good, too good. My pride is hissing at me in warning, but his finger sends a jolt of pleasure as it presses harder, sinking deeper into me, making every thought in my head dissipate.
His cock stimulates my pussy, and his finger stimulates something that shouldn’t even be an option, yet starts triggering another wave of pleasure.
I moan so loudly that I should be ashamed but am not.
“You like that?” His voice is teasing yet warm.
“Yes,” I whisper and nudge my butt up against his finger. “Fuck.” A sob escapes me, and my eyes roll to the back of my head.
“That’s right, kitten.” His voice is muffled as all I sense is his cock filling me up and his finger on that untapped pleasure button.
The man is a pro at everything. He was right. He reads my body like a freaking book. His finger on my back entrance pushes just a tiny bit more inside, the feeling odd but the pleasure from it overriding anything else I’ve ever felt in sex.
“Archer,” I almost sob, losing my mind.
“Yes, kitten.” He thrusts and thrusts and rubs me, his hands palming and spreading my cheeks, making me feel so good I want to whimper. And I do, melting into the bean bag, a boneless mass that wants to be fucked and used.
I cry out when the orgasm sweeps through me like an explosion, making every part of me tense, melting every cell in my body.
I don’t want him to stop. I just want him to fuck me endlessly. But he pulls out gently, unties my hands, and helps me up.
“Come here.”
I’ve never heard him talk so gently during sex. He was supposed to take, yet this feels like he intends on giving me every shade of pleasure there is.
I stumble off the bean bag, dizzy and disoriented. Archer chuckles and holds me by my waist to steady me, then picks me up in his arms and carries me to bed.
My body is happy and lax. I stretch on the bed, enjoying the feel of Archer’s body when he gets on top of me, his hard cock rubbing against my thigh.
“You didn’t come,” I murmur in realization.
“No.” There’s that mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he pushes damp strands of my hair off my face. “Not yet, kitten.” Oh! “We’re finally coming up to the main course. I’ve wanted to have you that way for some time. And I want you to enjoy it.”
Wait, what the hell is the main course?
“What way?” I frown, my brain too slow to dissect the words.
His hand gently strokes my thigh, then slides to the junction between my legs.
Again?
Until I realize it’s slipping farther to where his fingers were just minutes ago, to my back entrance.
“This way, kitten,” he whispers and, before I can object, kisses me.
His tongue slowly strokes into my mouth, making me dizzy again. His finger massages my back entrance and doesn’t feel too intrusive anymore, now that I know how it can make me feel.
