Page 5 of Sinful Promise
Small blessings, I suppose.
My legs grow heavier the closer we get to home. My exhaustion seeping in as adrenaline ekes from my blood. But Archer leads me up four flights and barely pauses long enough to insert keys and push the door open. Then he shuts it again with a barely discernable click and shoves me against the timber the way he did in Fentone’s bedroom.
“Fuck, Minnnka.” He picks me up this time, cupping my ass and crushing his cock to my core. Stealing the breath from my lungs, he holds me with one arm, while he reaches out blindly with the other to flip the locks and make sure we remain alone.
Cops aren’t the only people we have to worry about helping themselves to our home.
“Archer.” I drop my head back, breathless and panting, as his strong hands bruise my skin. As his stubble scratches my neck, and the bite from his teeth no doubt marks my flesh. But the lust roiling in my belly makes it so I don’t care.
I close my eyes in the dark and let him take. Allow him to feast and enjoy. Because he’s my husband. My heart. My everything. And tonight, he made good on promises I never would have held him to.
I don’t need him to join me on this mission I’ve declared for myself. To kill killers, to remove the scourge from the streets. I don’t need him to stain his hands with the blood of murderers.
I only require him to step aside and close his eyes while I do it.
“I love you.” Strong, sure, hungry, Archer swings me away from the wall and carries me through the living room.
He chuckles when a cat’s feral hiss lets us know Chloe’s pissed at us,for whatever reason she’s conjured today, then into the hall, he crushes me against the new wall and yanks my shirt until the fabric catches on my chin.
He’s rough. Demanding. Ferocious, and yet, impossibly gentle.
“I need to fuck you.” His voice is throaty and hoarse. Gritty and delicious. “This isn’t…” He bites yet again, when he so rarely does. “This is not…”
“You mean you don’t normally get horny when you kill a man?”
Laughing, he drops my shirt to the floor, secures his lips around my nipple, and continues walking. “This isn’t my first time, Mayet.” He charges into our bedroom and tosses me to the center of our bed. Setting his knee on the mattress between my legs, he pushes his jacket and shirt off until they hit the floor. “Not my first kill. But god, I’ve never wanted to fuck so much after.”
“It’s because it’s me and you.” I push up to my elbows, grunting when my stomach muscles contract, then I grab his belt and get to work unbuckling. “It’s because we did it together.” My breath sprints as my lungs clamor for oxygen. “We’ve never done that before.”
“Kinda don’t wanna do it again.” He takes the end of his belt from my grasp and tosses it to the floor, then he unsnaps his jeans and pushes them down to reveal black boxer shorts—and the clear outline of his cock in the shadowed light. “But I’ll do it for you.”
He unfastens my jeans and tears them down my legs so the material scrapes my thighs. His hands are rough. Commanding. Moving me along the mattress because of how hard he yanks. But then he frees me from the constraints of denim, and removes my panties second.
“Fuck, Mayet. I’ll do anything for you. Forever.”
“And I’ll do anything for you.”
I reach up and cup the back of his head. Pulling him down, I twist on the mattress as he falls, so we roll, and his hands on my hips bring me up to sit on his length.
His cock presses to my bare clit. The silk of his shorts, smooth against my sensitive nerve endings.
“Anything.” I rock against his hips, the friction setting my blood on fire. “For the rest of our lives.”
“Good.”
Reaching between us, he shoves his shorts down and frees his cock, then he brings his hands up and unsnaps my bra so my breasts spill forward. Surging up, he pulls one between his lips and forces my head back in ecstasy. My body thrills under his touch, and when his hand drops between my legs to fist his dick, my core quivers in anticipation.
We’ve done this a thousand times. Countless times, over countless days, positions, and orgasms. But it never gets old. Not for me, and not for him.
Pushing up to my knees to make room, I whimper when he drags the head of his cock along my slit. A growl rolls along his throat, a hunger only I can satiate.
But neither of us mind that we need the other. Neither of us begrudge our codependence.
“Archer,” I breathe, my chest expanding and my shoulders pushing back. But his lips work magic around my nipple, and his cock teases my fiery entrance.
Finally, he wraps his free hand under my arm and around to cup my shoulder. “Sit.” He lines himself up and he drags me down, filling me in the very best way. I stretch around him, fluttering and needy, while higher up, I press my hands to his chest and simply… feel.
I rise to the very tip of his length, then lower again, and groan when he lifts in response.
