Page 78 of Compassion

“Then why the fuck am I this dirty little secret?!”

“Because you’re mine!”

The shouted answer causes bewilderment to bulldoze his face.

“Because I know thesecondthey fucking know, you’re not just mine anymore, Archer. Our relationship isn’t justours.It’s then up for discussion every…fucking…time…I see her. And she’ll nitpick. And then scold but think that she’s helping. And then she’ll start in on the when are you proposing, when are we getting married, when will shefinallyhave a grandchild of her own. Me not telling her hasnothingto do with you andeverythingto do with not wanting to put myself through more of that bullshit.”

“And your dad?”

“Background checks. We’re talking more than just the basic running your name through a database. He’ll look up phone records. Medical records. Tax information. Ex-girlfriends – or in that one case ex-wife. Insurance reports. And this is all before he quizzesyoulike you’re in an interrogation room for the first-degree felony of dating his only daughter.”

A hint of terror flashes in his green gaze.

“Yeah, I love my dad – like totally daddy’s girl, you know this – but the man getsa lotoverprotective when I’m serious with someone. The fact he hasn’t done any of those things yet is a miracle. We’re talkingreal growth.”

The corner of Archer’s lip twitches like it wants to smile. “You’re sure them not knowing about us has nothing to do with the facts that I’m homeless, jobless, and mentally unstable?”

“You arenothomeless.” My arms wind around his midsection. “You arenotjobless.” I let my fingers fold at the small of his back. “And no one in my family is mentally stable – self included – so you fit right in.”

Laughter bounces his body, frame thankfully melting under my grasp.

“I love you, too, Archer. And if telling my parents is that important to you-”

“It is.”

“Then we can have them over for dinner on Sunday and tell them. You can cook – demonstrating to my mother what a keeper you are – and then show my dad around at all the shit you’ve fixed or installed. I’ll make arrangements tomorrow while you’re in with Dr. McMahan.” He lets his hands run the length of my arms until I unwrap myself for our hands to connect. “I’mproudto have someone like you in my life, baby.Never. Doubt. That.”

Archer leans in closer and sweetly whispers, “And you never doubt that I love you.”

Feeling the warmth in my stomach spread pushes to me challenge, “Thenmakelove to me.”

The unexpected declaration drops his jaw.

“Right here…” I gently tug him towards the couch. “Right now.”

Seeing an argument forming in his expression prompts me to pounce his parted lips. Roll my tongue around his. Detach one of my hands to caress the outside of his cock over his jeans.

All it takes is a harder grab to get him pulling away on a groan, “Fuck, sweetheart.It’s been alongtime. I’m don’t know if I can give you the slow, gentle bullshit you’re asking for.”

“The only thing I’m asking for, Archer, is that you do everything possible to have me coming from this moment until first thing tomorrow, and I only say that because I know we gotta stop for you to make us coffee and you to go to therapy.”

Having his own words tossed back at him works better than I hoped.

We go from standing to lying down only a smidge faster than we go from being clothed to naked. Torrid, teeth filled kisses are scattered across both sides of my elongated neck along with deep, guttural groans that mercilessly vibrate my entire body. Pleasure from the pain and pressure continuously curls my figure up to his. My hardened nipples repeatedly crash against his chest, needily moaning louder during each collision. Cries grow deafening formorecontact. For therightcontact. I wind my toned legs around his hips and use my ankles to encourage him to go where I want him rather than to keep prolonging the inevitable.

A light nip to my earlobe is delivered prior to Archer cockily teasing, “Can’t wait any longer, can you, sweetheart?”

The pout he’s presented quickly melts into a new round of moans as he languorously drags his tongue lower. Watching him taste every inch he crosses is delicious but the sensation that spreads through me like wildfire when he latches his teeth onto my nipple and tugs is infinitely more delectable. Within seconds, both of his hands join in on the intoxicating assault, caressing and cupping and feeding him the dark points one right after another until they’re eventually pushed into one soft, squished mess that allows his tongue to lick each one during its every thrash. Wetness wastes no time soaking my lower lips under the ceaseless teasing and being already brought to the edge before he’s even touched me where I need it most leads me to making feral noises, I didn’t even know I was capable of.

Finally satiated with his lecherous tormenting, Archer braces himself above me with one hand and uses the other to roughly part my wobbly legs. No warning or extra taunting is given. He simply thrusts himself inside and tries to keep a groan trapped behind gritted teeth. His sound restraint is met by my sopping wet muscles clenching in objection. Commanding he release the noise I want to hear, the one that will make them grow even more slippery.

My boyfriend’s body bucks forward, his dropped low, stare planted on the area he’s marking.

Carving.

Scribbling his signature on to make his.

“Fuuucckkkk, that feels amazing.” A dark, sinful huff thoughtlessly slips past his lips on a growled announcement, “It’s never felt this goddamn good before.”

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