Page 36 of Broken By Silence
I reached around her hip, my fingers finding her clit. It’s swollen and hard, a little nub of pure sensation. I press my thumb against it, circling it in time with my thrusts.
“You feel that?” I rasp in her ear, my breath hot on her neck. “You feel my cock buried deep inside your perfect little pussy while I make you come on it?” Her only answer is a broken sob of pleasure, her body beginning to tremble. “I want to feel you come all over me, baby. I want to feel your tight cunt milk my fucking dick until I can’t think straight.”
Her sounds became higher, more desperate. I know her body, every twitch and gasp. I feel the tension coiling in her, a spring about to snap. I fuck her harder, driving into her with a singular focus, my world narrowing to the feel of her pussy, the sound of her pleasure, the smell of her sweat mixing with mine.
“I’m going to come,” she screams, her voice cracking as her orgasm rips through her. Her inner muscles clench around me in violent, rhythmic pulses, a silken, suffocating grip that drags a guttural roar from my own throat, not caring who can hear.
The intense pressure is too much. My own control shatters. I piston into her one last, final time, grinding my hips deep against her as I come. A white-hot lightning bolt of pleasure seizes me, and I empty myself into her with a broken groan, my vision spotting at the edges.
We stay like that for a long moment, braced against the boxes, both of us panting, dripping with sweat, utterly spent. The air was thick with the smell of sex. I slowly, reluctantly, pull out of her, the loss of connection feeling like a physical ache.
I turn her around to face me. Her makeup is smudged, her hair a mess. She’d never looked more fucking beautiful. I lean in, capturing her lips in a slow, deep kiss that tastes of salt and us.
“I love you,” I breathe against her mouth, the words feeling inadequate for the storm of emotion inside me.
She smiles, a tired, sated, real smile. “I know.” Her hands come up, framing my face. “Take me home, Archer.”
Chapter 14
Lottie
The lecture hall smells faintly of salt and the sea, a reminder of why I had chosen marine biology in the first place. Even as the Professor discusses the migratory patterns of humpback whales, my mind drifts. Part of me is still tangled in last night, in the memory of Archer’s hands and the way his possessiveness made my chest ache.
Zara nudges my shoulder with a grin. “Lottie, you’re spacing out again. Earth to Lottie.”
I blink, trying to focus. “Sorry… just thinking.”
She leaned closer, her green eyes sparkling. “Thinking about your boyfriends, aren’t you?”
I flush, caught off guard. “Maybe,” I admit, letting my shoulders relax slightly. “But totally not the time.”
Zara chuckles, flipping her notebook page to a new one. “Fair enough. Though you should’ve noticed what the Professor was doing to me.” She tilts her head, pretending to take notes. “He keeps glancing at me, Lottie.”
I roll my eyes, leaning back in my chair. “He’s not exactly subtle.”
Her grin widens. “I mean, it’s flattering, and he’s a genius, so I’m not complaining.”
I laugh softly, shaking my head. “I guess some people like being chased,” I mutter, pen scribbling against the paper.
“Not chased,” she says, smirking. “Appreciated.”
Before I can tease her more, Professor Langston walks down the aisle, stopping in front of her. His hands awkwardly tuck into his pockets, and he clears his throat. “Miss Harper,” he says, voice low, hesitant, like he’s not sure how to start. “You seem… a little distracted today. Not by the lecture, I assume?”
Zara’s hands clutch her notebook tighter. “Sorry, Professor. I’m paying attention… mostly.”
He shifts, scratching the back of his neck. “Right… well, try not to get too distracted. Important things might slip by otherwise.”
He offers her a small, awkward smile—then a subtle, almost shy wink—before continuing down the aisle, mumbling something about “trouble in class.”
Zara exhales quietly, letting her shoulders drop. She glances at me, eyes wide and embarrassed. “He… he’s kind of… I don’t know. I think he’s… maybe trying to be… nice?”
I laugh softly. “Clumsy, shy, and flustered. Sounds like someone you’d like.”
She lets out a small, nervous giggle, hiding behind her notebook again. “I… I don’t know. I mean… maybe.”
I loop my arm through hers as we pack up our things. Stepping out into the hallway, then part ways since she has another class. I make my way outside, ready to get home and have a nap.
I stepout of the lecture hall, my bag digging into my shoulder, and the warm afternoon sun hits my face. Students drift past, laughing about assignments and the ocean—the ordinary life I wish I could sink into. And then I see her.
