Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
“You own it, Archer,” she whispers, her voice desperate, pleading. “It’s yours. Please.”
The moment the words leave her mouth, I’m on my knees, my tongue replacing my fingers, tasting her. She gasps, her hands flying to my hair as she arches against me, her thighs trembling as I work her over, driving her closer and closer to release.
Her taste is intoxicating, and I revel in the way her body responds to me, the way she’s completely at my mercy.
“You taste sweeter than I imagined,” I murmur against her slick folds, my voice thick with satisfaction.
My thumb rubs against her nipple, the sensitivity of the hardened bud making her gasp, and I can feel her body trembling beneath me. My teeth find her clit, nipping at the swollen flesh while my fingers pinch her nipple just enough to send that rush of pleasure surging through her. I love the way she responds, the way her body arches against me as if every nerve is electrified.
Her head falls back, her eyes closing, and her breath comes in ragged pants. She’s right on the edge, her toes curling, thighs shaking. I can’t get enough of this—watching her come undone, knowing I’m the one who’s driving her there.
"Ahh, that's it, beautiful girl," I murmur, my voice low and gravelly, pulling her back from the brink of her release. Her taste lingers on my tongue, sweet and addictive. "Mmm, I love the taste of your pretty cunt on my tongue."
I press my lips to hers, my tongue slipping past her parted lips, letting her taste the honeyed sweetness of her arousal on me. Her body melts into mine, hands tangling around my neck, fingers pulling me closer as if she can’t get enough. I kiss her deeply, the hunger between us palpable, but I’m still in control, holding the moment just out of reach, savoring her desire.
When I pull away, a cocky grin spreads across my face, and I can see the dazed look in her eyes. She’s nearly shaking, her body spent but wanting more. "Naughty girl," I tease, my thumb tracing the corner of her mouth where the wetness lingers. "You like the taste of your pussy on my lips too."
I watch as her eyes flutter closed again, and I wipe the remnants of her desire from her skin before popping my thumb into my mouth, savoring the taste once more. "So sweet," I say, shaking my head in mock amazement. She really is intoxicating.
I let the silence linger for a beat, just enough to make her feel the weight of my words, before I lean down, my lips brushing lightly against her ear. "Sweet dreams, beautiful Bella."
I wink, sauntering away like I own the room—because right now, I do. I know exactly what I’ve done to her, what I’ve left her with.
As I walk out, I can feel her eyes on me, jaw slack, still caught in the web of everything I’ve just given her. She’s shaken, in the best way, and I know she’s standing there wondering what the hell just happened.
This thing between us is more than lust—it’s something bigger. The way she tastes, the way she responds—it’s unlike anything else. And I’m not done with her. Not by a long shot.
I glance back one last time before I disappear down the hall, and there she is, licking her lips, relishing the flavor of her own desire mixed with mine. Sweet dreams, indeed.
Chapter Five
Bella
The next evening, the wind howls like it’s trying to claw its way into the inn. The windows rattle, the early winter storm slamming against the old building with a fury that sends a chill up my spine. I glance down at my phone, but of course, it’s useless—no signal, no updates. Just a blank screen reminding me I’m cut off from the outside world.
Then, like the storm’s final act, the lights flicker once, twice, and then plunge us into total darkness. Perfect. Just perfect.
I hear Archer shift from the other side of the room, and his voice, low and smooth, cuts through the dark. “Looks like we’re not getting any more work done tonight.”
I barely make him out in the dim light filtering through the window, but the steady confidence in his tone feels like it fills the entire room. “Seems that way,” I mutter. “But hey, at least the wiring’s not catching fire.”
His chuckle, deep and rich, sends a warmth through me that has nothing to do with the room temperature. It’s the kind of laugh that wraps around you and makes you forget the cold. Too bad I’m not trying to get comfortable.
“You wanna huddle up by the fireplace?” he asks, like it’s no big deal. “It’ll keep us warm until the power kicks back in.”
Huddle. Sure. Like that won’t end in trouble. I cross my arms, trying to keep my voice steady. “Huddle? I thought you were the guy who could fix anything. What, no generator in that toolbox of yours?”