Page 42 of Protecting Lanie

“I will just as soon as Lanie says she isn’t being forced or coerced.”

Before things could escalate between the two men, Lanie said, “I’m fine, King. Archer and I are just working through some of the parameters of our dynamic.”

“Yeah, good luck with that working through part.” King chuckled as he walked away.

"You test me," Archer said, seeming a bit more settled, his thumb stroking over the pulse racing at her throat. "You push, you challenge, you run. And yet...” his knee pressed between her thighs, forcing her legs apart, "you always end up back under my hands."

A needy whimper slipped past her lips before she could stop it.

Archer exhaled sharply, his breath warm against her cheek. "That’s it, little one. Stop pretending you don’t want this."

Lanie hated he was right. Hated that she was already shaking, already coming undone just from his voice, his touch, his control.

His grip tightened ever so slightly, just enough to keep her exactly where he wanted her. "I’m going to make you fall apart right here, against this wall, and you will not make a sound. Do you understand me?"

Her thighs clenched together, heat pooling low in her belly. "Archer...”

"Do you understand me?"

God help her, she nodded, and whispered, “Yes, Daddy.”

"Good girl."

His hand slid lower, his fingers brushing the inside of her thigh, teasing the edge of her thong. There wasn’t much between his hand and her sex. The minute he touched her, he’d know just how much she wanted him.

She should stop him. She should push him away. She didn’t.

His fingers found the heat between her legs, and she nearlysobbed.

"Already soaked," Archer murmured approvingly. "You love being owned, don’t you?"

She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.

He rewarded her silence with a slow, devastating stroke. Her hips jerked, desperate for more.

"Stay still," he warned, his voice edged with something dangerous.

Lanie whimpered, barely holding herself together as his fingers played her body like an instrument. He circled her clit with his forefinger—not actually touching it. He continued to stroke her, and then, just as suddenly as he’d started, he stopped.

She gasped, her body arching into him, seeking more, but Archer only chuckled darkly.

"Not until I say you can, little one," he murmured, kissing the shell of her ear. "I own every inch of you—and not just your body, but your orgasms as well. Come without permission and you’ll find yourself tied to our bed being made to come repeatedly until you are exhausted."

She wanted to scream. Instead, she nodded. He kissed her once, deep and consuming, before finally releasing her throat, her wrist, and stepping back. Lanie nearly collapsed.

Archer caught her chin, tilting her face up, so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. "You will obey me," he said, low and lethal. "Or I will lock you down until this is over."

A flash of defiance ignited in her chest. "And if I don’t?"

His lips curled. "Try me."

Lanie exhaled shakily. "Fine." She straightened. "I’ll go along with your orders."

Archer narrowed his eyes. "Just like that?"

She met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "On one condition."

He arched a brow.

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