Page 97 of Beautiful Thing

Archer just chuckles as his mouth slowly makes its way around my breasts.

“Do you think I’m crazy?” My cheeks flame with a hot blush. “With the way I’m rambling, you probably think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re fucking incredible, Layla,” he mutters, locking his arms around my back like he’s afraid I might chicken out and run away. “Keep talking to me. Let it all out.”

But now, I’m feeling sort of embarrassed. No matter how turned on I am, spilling the contents of my guts to Archer like this isn’t very ladylike or demure. I bite down on my bottom lip to keep my mouth from running off again.

I’ve never been so vocal about my feelings for a man. But with Archer, this feels safe.

It could be that I’m drunk over the way he’s worshipping my breasts. Or maybe it’s because of the way he’s been showering me with positive affirmations lately.

He flicks his tongue at the seam of my lips. “Don’t go all shy on me, baby. I want your words. Tell me everything.”

From the way his chest is shaking with each ragged breath, I know he needs to hear my praise. He needs every single word of encouragement I have to offer. But my pride and anxiety have taken over, tying my throat into a knot.

Dark irises locked on my face, Archer reaches down and slips a finger under the cotton of my soaking panties, grazing a knuckle over my clit in the process. The touch is so startling—so good—that I can’t help but curve into him.

The corner of his mouth upturns wickedly. “How about my fingers? Do you like my fingers, Belle?” His calloused touch slips through my folds, easily finding my entrance. “Do you like the way it feels when I’m fucking you with my hand?”

“Yes,” I moan.

He thrusts two long, thick digits inside me, and my spine bows sharply, almost snapping in two.

“Yes, Archer,” I say again as he probes deeper, faster. “I like it so much.”

Sparks of pleasure fire through me as he pumps his fingers, his pace increasing.

My body is writhing erratically and I’m making a mess all over his hand. Yet still, my shame has got me in a chokehold. I tuck my face into the curve of his neck so I don’t have to look into his eyes when I begin to come apart.

“Don’t hide from me, Belle.” With his free hand clasping the back of my head, he lifts my face and brings our mouths together. His tongue undulates with mine, creating a rhythm that quickly overpowers my intrusive thoughts.

All of it is so dirty. So delicious. And I already feel the storm gathering low in my belly. My pussy throbs in hot, frantic waves.

Archer breathes against my lips. “Fuck. You’re about to come on my fingers, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Shit. Yes,” I pant, wriggling against his hand.

He leans forward, sucking my nipple between his lips, twirling the bud with his skilled tongue.

And just like that—it’s over for me.

My orgasm arrives in an unexpected rush. My body is squirming erratically and I’m making a mess all over his hand. I lose track of what I’m saying, rambling my praise to Archer as I fall apart on his fingers. He switches to my other breast, letting his lips work my neglected nipple.

I slap my forearm across my mouth, biting into my flesh as I cling to my peak. I hold on for as long as I can.

Then I’m shaking, cold sweat prickling my skin as I recover. Archer holds me patiently, petting the length of my back with soft strokes of his hand.

He tucks his head against my chest, licking at my sternum and breathing me in. “Fucking perfect, these tits.” His warm breath fans across my wet nipple. He strokes his cheek against one sensitive globe and then the next. I nearly go crazy at the friction.

I grasp at the nape of his neck, keeping his face against my tits. “By the way, I really like your beard, too,” I chuckle raspily, stroking the backs of my fingers over his facial hair.

I fully intend to take my time, recovering from the sizzling bolt of electricity that just rocked through me. But Archer has other plans. He’s busy, sliding from his recliner to the carpeted floor, arms banded tightly around my back as he goes.

“What are you doing?” I grin as we land on the floor.

“Since you like my beard so much, how about you ride it for me?” Gripping my hips with his strong hands, Archer maneuvers us so he’s stretched out on his back and I’m hovering over his grinning mouth. “Come here and ride my face.”

“Holy shit.” I tumble forward, my elbows landing on the cushioned seat of the recliner. Archer navigates my panties down my legs and flings them halfway across the room.

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