Page 44 of Defiant
One of his hands left my side, moving to lean on the tree behind me. It was a wide thing, its bark digging into my back through the fabric of my hoodie and shirt. His other hand moved downward, to the button on my jeans.
I should stop him. I should yell at him. I should do something—anything other than what I was currently doing, which was nothing. Yeah, I was doing absolutely nothing, as if I’d never learned my lesson when it came to this sexy blonde.
Did his words get to me? Did I believe anything he just told me? That was the thing…I didn’t know if I did, and that painted me in an awful light, didn’t it? Just a girl who was a slave to her body, to her instincts, someone who was weak when she should be strong.
His fingers worked at the button, then the zipper, undoing it just enough so he could slide his hand between the fabric of my panties and my needy skin. Oh, God. Oh, fuck. I should stop him. I only had a few seconds before all hope was lost completely.
Needless to say, I didn’t stop him. I didn’t do anything besides stand there and close my eyes as his fingers curled along me, touching me in my most sensitive place. A short breath escaped me, and I leaned my head back on the tree. Archer’s head was still against mine; he wanted as much contact between us as he could get, apparently.
This was wrong. So wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t let him touch me like this…but damn, it just felt too good.
His fingers circled my clit, putting pressure on the small nub and instantly sending tingles all throughout my body. I had no idea if his eyes were open, if he watched me as he worked me, and I didn’t care. It was too late to pretend his hand was powerless here, too late to tell him that I would never stoop to his level again.
Look at me, willing to crawl through the mud and the dirt just to be with Archer Vega. It was stupid. I was stupid. Now that I knew the truth, this would only serve to poke the bear.
My hips started to move of their own accord, an involuntary reaction of my body. It only served to further increase the pressure between Archer’s hand and my apex, which only made me get hotter.
Made me get hotter, and made me want more. So much more. More that Archer could never give me, because he wasn’t mine. He would never be mine. To stand here and let this happen was irresponsible, but for once, I didn’t want to be the logical one. I didn’t want to sit back and follow directions.
I wanted to be bad. So, so bad. And letting Archer touch me like this was as bad as I could get.
Archer’s hand dipped back, and one of his fingers circled the wetness just outside my entrance. With my eyes still closed, I heard him exhale a shaky, trembling breath, as if he couldn’t believe I was that wet. Like he wanted to tear off my clothes, then his, and have me right here and now.
Alas, no protection, so that definitely couldn’t happen.
His hands, though? Oh, his hands and his fingers could be put to work, definitely.
He brought that wetness up to my clit, his fingers moving smoother against me. My body practically hummed, my nerves on overdrive as he touched me. My heart was a wild thing, pumping blood everywhere in my body, my veins on fire.
If I could block out the world and all of its problems, if I could forget all of the complications I had here in Midpark, I would. I would gladly throw it all away and simply live in the moment, lose myself in Archer like I had that day in his room. It was remarkably easy to.
But maybe that was the problem.
One of his fingers dipped back down, but instead of just spreading my slickness, it slipped inside me, filling me up in a way that made my inner core ache for something bigger, something thicker.
“God,” Archer breathed out, his breath hot on my face, “you feel so good. I wish I could be inside you.” A desperate plea that we both wanted, and yet it could not happen. Never again, really. This whole encounter would have to be our last.
Because, you know, wrong.
With his palm applying pressure to my clit, his finger worked my pussy, sliding in and out, curling just a bit inside and rubbing a spot that made me lose it almost instantly. A low moan left me, and I felt the pressure building inside of my body, a storm ready to be unleashed. As much as I hated Archer, he could pull the pleasure out of me like a master. He was the orchestra, and I was a slave to his song.
Soon enough it was too much. I could no longer hold it off, nor did I want to. The pleasure exploded within me, and I felt it touch every nerve in my body in the explosion of bliss. I cried out, my nose touching his as my body tensed and flooded with heat from his handiwork. It was quite literally the best feeling in the world, one that could never be replaced by anything else.
Just as his finger slipped out of me, just as I ran my hands down Archer’s chest, biting my lower lip as I wondered if I should give him some relief, something strange happened.
A big, black figure tackled Archer off me, bringing them both to the ground. I was still riding the high of my orgasm, my gaze a little hazy because I didn’t want to snap back into reality, but when I saw the two struggling figures in front of me, I had to let the tingly feeling go.
And button my jeans as quickly as possible.
“What the fuck—” Archer could barely get out the words before the attacker punched him square in the jaw.
Really hard, too. Sounded like it hurt.
My mind immediately went to a mugger, but then when I saw the shaved head, the brown mop of hair on its top and the tattoo encircling the skull, I knew exactly who it was. The leather, the wide shoulders, the strength…yeah, only one guy I’d met had a frame like that.
Dante Storm.
“Get off him,” I growled out, shocked at the sudden turn of events.
