Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Archer’s jaw clenches.
I smile.
He nods toward the en suite bathroom. “After you. Don’t worry about your panties. I’ll take care of those with my teeth.”
And he does. He takes care of them, and me, most thoroughly. By the time we finally get the water turned on, I’ve already come so hard on his hand that my knees are wobbly.
But that’s okay, Blue braces me against the shower wall as he tries—and very sadly, fails—to find a manageable way to push into me from behind. But he’s just too damned tall, and I’m too short, and my belly is too large to make scooping me up in his arms and going at it from the front a realistic option at this point.
I’m about to suggest we forget the shower for now and adjourn to the couch in the bridal suite—or a towel on the bathroom floor, I honestly don’t care—when Archer has a moment of genius.
“Be right back.” He nips my shoulder with his teeth as he rolls my nipples between his fingers, making me moan, then cry out in protest as he slips through the curtain. “Where are you going? You can’t leave.”
“I’ll be right back,” he calls from outside. “I remembered something.”
“Remembered what?” I ask, biting my bottom lip. I’m so turned on, I’m on the verge of slipping my fingers between my legs to take the edge off when he reappears with a small plastic stool.
“The stool at the sink, the one to help kids wash their hands,” he says. “I think it’ll give us just the boost we need.”
“You’re a brilliant man,” I say as he sets the stool on the shower floor. I step onto it, pulse spiking at the feel of his erection bobbing, hot and thick, against the top of my thigh. “Yes. This is perfect.”
“So perfect.” He presses closer, wrapping an arm around me to steady me from behind as he guides his cock into where I’m dying for him.
My head falls back against his chest with a relieved groan as he finally pushes inside me. With the few extra inches of height, everything fits just right.
So damned right…
He enters me in one long, perfect thrust that feels like the missing piece, the sexy cherry on top of this beautiful sundae of a day. I exhale a happy, needy sound, pressing my palms against the slick tile in front of me as I grind back into the solid wall of him.
“There you are, baby. Right there,” he grunts, his voice husky in my ear. “Missed you.”
“Missed you, too,” I pant, even though it’s only been since this morning.
But I want him all the time, every minute of every day. I’m so hot for him it’s ridiculous. But I can’t help it. My body craves Archer like those plants in the garden crave sunlight. I’m sure we’ll eventually calm down and be done making up for lost time, but not now, not yet.
His hands grip my hips, his massive palms anchoring me, pulling me back against him until there isn’t a molecule of air left between us. He doesn’t go slow this time, not even at first. He fucks me with a rhythmic power that I feel in the hollows of my bones, his chest hair prickly on my back as my nervous system begins to sing.
Steam fills the small bathroom, making my cheeks flush as he bites the cord at the side of my neck.
“Yes, please,” I encourage as he reaches lower, dipping below Bean to where I’m already vibrating.
I groan as he rubs my clit, working me with his thumb as he continues to pump into me from behind, until I’m gasping, spiraling. The tension builds, a knot pulling between my legs, drawing tighter, tighter, until I’m hovering at the edge of the drop.
“Come with me. Come with me, Blue,” I choke out, arching my spine as my heart hammers against my ribs. “Love you so much.”
He groans his agreement as he surges forward, one hand braced against the wall as his cock begins to jerk inside me. I come with a silent, open-mouthed scream, my vision blurring in the steamy haze as the orgasm shudders through me in rolling waves.
It’s crazy intense, even for us, pleasure so complete, we’re both still trembling several moments later.
Finally, he dips his head, kissing my cheek. “Now, I’m going to wash your hair, and we’re going to get out of here before we faint from hunger.”
I sigh as he pulls out, fighting to keep my sex-wobbly knees beneath me. “Sounds good. Do I get to wash you, too?”
“No,” he says without missing a beat. “You can’t be trusted.”
I exhale in mock outrage. “That’s not true. I can be trusted. And I need to make sure you’re clean.”
“No,” he repeats. “I’m serious, Beatrice. If you touch me again, I might have to carry you outside and fuck you in the rose garden.”