Date Me, Mr. Archer

twenty eight | one truth at a time

Shit. Shit. Was I just now riding his thigh and getting myself off while he was asleep? And wait, was he even asleep? “You— you were awake this whole time?”

“Did you think I'd be able to remain asleep when you rode my thigh like I was your favourite fucking motorbike?” his voice deepened a tenor just as he pushed two of his fingers inside me, both of them sliding in without any resistance at how turned on I had been because of being all cuddled up in his embrace. Also realising just how hot I was, he brushed my hair from the side of my neck and bit down on my skin, hard. “Fuck, you're so wet. Did sleeping in my arms turn you on, my darling?”

I moaned as he brought his fingers back out before slamming them right back in, hitting a point I never even knew existed, making me cry out. “Kyst!”

“Go ahead, baby. Scream my name while you ride my fingers,” he whispered, his other hand wrapping around my throat from the front as I rocked my hips harder.

He thrust his fingers up and I bucked my hips for him, riding him just like he asked me to. I whimpered at his touch and the raw authority in the way he handled me, ravaged me. He'd only had me once, last night, and it was safe to say that he had already learned my body way better than me which was evident in the way he tortured it.

He sucked the skin of my neck, no doubt leaving marks there before brushing his tongue and licking the bruise, soothing the ache.

“Oh Kyst,” I moaned. His fingers released my throat and he pinched my nipple, his thumb flicking my clit and with a last nip on my neck, I collapsed. An overpowering feeling of bliss grabbed hold of my bones as I rode out the remnants of my orgasm. Kyst's breaths tickled the back of my neck as he leaned down and placed a kiss there, too soft in contrast with the demanding way his fingers commanded my body.

“Hey,” his softly spoken word pulled at the strings of my heart as I caught my breath.

“Hi.” I craned my neck to look at him, his lips pulling up in a gorgeous smile at the sight of the marks he left on my neck. His eyes darkened further when he extracted his fingers from between my legs and placed them at my lips. “Wha—” he shoved both his fingers that had been in me, into my mouth, cutting me off.

“Suck. And make it good,” he ordered. My thighs clenched at the dangerous lul of his voice and even though a dull ache blossomed between my thighs, my stomach dipped with pure excitement. And like the deranged person that I was, I pressed my tongue against his fingers and gave them tentative licks. He tsked loudly before pushing his fingers knuckles deep so they touched my throat, making me gag. “Don't just lick them. Hollow your cheeks and suck. Use your teeth. Suck my fingers like you'd suck my cock.”

A deep red rushed up the side of my neck and my cheeks at his filthy mouth. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked him in, opening my mouth once and getting in as much oxygen as possible. I graced my teeth against his rough, calloused fingers before licking it with my tongue. His deep groan echoed in the air and wrapped around me like a noose just as he pulled his fingers out of me. “Why. . . was it not—”

He reached out a hand and slammed it against my mouth, easily cutting me off. “Don't you dare ask me if you weren't good because you're fucking incredible and if I hadn't removed my fingers just now, I would've pounced you like an animal,” he spoke darkly. “And since you haven't eaten anything since yesterday evening, the last thing you need to deal with right now is me.” And then he pushed his hips forward, his huge, thick erection poking my ass. His voice was nonchalant when he added, “And my dick, obviously.”

I turned around so my breasts were pressed against his naked chest since he'd decided to not wear a shirt and I wrapped an arm around his waist, burying my face in his shoulder. His deep, raspy chuckle filled the room. “You're awfully clingy this morning, aren't you?”