Page 48 of Sunrise Arrows

Finding the soft flares and curves, he holds me, his touch neither clinging nor possessive. I wait, watching him breathe, my own breath coming more quickly with anticipation for what he’ll do next.

“Tell me you want me.” Archer’s words are that of a wounded animal, pain and a readiness to fight coloring the rich, deep draw of his speech.

“I want you.”

His fingers sink into my flesh, dimpling the muscle with how tight his grip turns. He uses that hold to gently rock me on the marble, like he wishes he could shake me.

His hands start moving again, less gently now, more roughly as they make their way up my waist and cover my stomach. He reaches up for my breasts, lifting them and squeezing until I keen for him under the sharp current of pain that’s laced through the electrifying pleasure.

“Again.”

“I want you, Archer.”

No sooner do I offer the moaned assurance he seeks than does his hand strike out, collaring my throat. The pressure at my pulse is glorious, stealing my breath in the best way, my head tilting back in full offer.

Archer slowly leans over me, his other hand sweeping back down the silhouette of my body to lift my leg over his forearm. Fully slotted between my thighs and spread open for him, he guides me up, off my shoulders, by the loving possession he has around my neck. The stubble of his cheek is abrasive against my own when he puts his lips by my ear and growls.

“Tell me you’re mine, Tinsley. That you’vealwaysbeen mine.”

He squeezes my pulse before I can comply, holding it for several beats. As he lets go—his thumb stroking the column of my neck—he repeats, “Tell me,” a whisper of broken, desperate need seeping in.

I reach up and cup his face, keeping the warmth of him against me, and murmur, “I’ve only ever been yours, Archer. If you want me, you only need to take me.”

“How could I not want you?”

Brushing my lips along his stubble, I challenge, “Then take me,” setting free some of the storm that swirls inside him.

He pulls back and with a gentleness that betrays the harshness of his face, he slowly relaxes my body back onto the counter as he stands back to his full height.

When he lets go of my throat, I pout, a whimper slipping free over the loss of being pinned down by him.

“Shh,” he croons, dragging two of his fingers over my bottom lip before pushing them in so I suck on them. “I love how eager your pretty little mouth always is for me.”

Proving him right, I hollow my cheeks, trying to draw more of his fingers in, my tongue swirling up, around, and between.

He hisses and smiles down at me as he pulls them free, a small rope of saliva weakly clinging like fraying rope. “Perfect, baby.”

The small praise lights me up in delirium but I’m quickly flattened back down to earth before skyrocketing up when his fingers ghost over my clit and down to spread my waiting pussy.

“Mmm… so wet,” Archer observes, tracing my opening and coating his already slick fingers. Another pass and he pushes both in, my hips lifting with the intrusion. “And so damn snug. I could live inside you and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

He pumps and curls his fingers inside me—his thumb pressing on my clit each time he hits my front wall—quickly drawing more from me. The sounds my body makes for him are obscene and hypnotizing all at once, any mortification I can muster up melting away under how savagely and hungrily he watches between my legs.

My belly is curled up tight, and molten heat spreads down my thighs and up my chest when he pulls free, halting my pussy’s increasingly excited flutters. But I can’t complain because he’s pulled his cock out and is spreading what I’ve given him over his thick, veiny length.

Shoving his jeans down, he checks the hold he still has on my leg that’s bent over the crook of his arm and lines himself up with me, eyes trained on where we’re about to join. Once he’s notched inside of me though, Archer looks up and brings his hand back to my throat, his eyes boring down into mine as he drives home.

The collar of his hand keeps me pinned to the counter as he thrusts with brutalizing force that has me screaming for more. He takes me hard and fast, each push of his cock raw and ruining. He’s savage and possessed, pouring everything he’s let escape into me.

His grip adjusts on my leg as sweat mists my skin and he pushes it back until my knee is up on the outside of my breast. With the adjusted angle, he slips in deeper, my eyes rolling back as I cry out for him.

He squeezes my throat and commands, “Look at me,” drawing my immediate obedience as I swim in his green depths. “I want your eyes on me and my name on your lips when I make you come.”

It’s an order he doesn’t have to wait long for me to comply with. Every nerve in my body is a slave to his touch. And when it comes in the trifecta of his hand squeezing my throat, his thumb pressing my clit, and his cock thrusting so deep inside me it kisses my cervix, I go off, screaming his name and making him fall with me, the hot flood of his cum making me shiver with pulsing aftershocks.

Archer’s fingers replace his cock, plugging and cupping my pussy. He bends down and kisses first my sensitive clit, then my bare mound, making his way to my lower abdomen before resting his forehead above my stomach, taking time to breathe me in and slowly come back.

I card my fingers through his hair, my other arm wrapping around him, fingers softly dancing along his spine. And when he brings his fingers to my lips, I open for him right away, soothing myself into peace with our combined taste.

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