Page 62 of Hot for the Dragon

"Don’t say that too loudly," he teased, leaning back against the leather seat. "I’ve got my reputation to maintain around here."

She tilted her head. Her dark hair fell over her shoulder, making his fingers itch to touch it. "A reputation for what? Being a cocky, grumpy dragon who secretly buys flower shops for his girlfriend?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Girlfriend, huh? Bold of you to assume."

"Is that not what I am?" she teased, her tone light but her eyes searching his.

Archer hesitated for a moment, then leaned in closer, his voice dropping low. "Yes, Daphne. You’re my girlfriend. And don’t you forget it."

She laughed again, but this time it was breathy, a little shaky, as if she could feel the shift in the air between them. Archer couldn’t help himself. He cupped her face in his hand, his thumb brushing over her cheek, and kissed her. It started slow, a gentle exploration of lips and warmth, but it didn’t take long for the fire inside him to ignite. His dragon instincts were never far from the surface, and the way she kissed him back, her hands tangling in his hair, made that fire burn hotter.

"Archer," she murmured against his lips, her voice a soft plea that sent a jolt of heat straight through him.

"Yeah?" he growled, his voice rough.

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she slid her hand down his chest, her fingers deftly unbuckling his belt. Archer’s breath hitched, his control slipping as she tugged his pants down just enough to free him. His large member throbbed, already hard and ready for her.

He could feel the heat radiating from her, the way her body trembled slightly as she climbed on top of him in the driver's seat, her skirt riding up her thighs.

"Daphne," he growled, his hands gripping her hips as she settled over him, her warmth pressing against his length. "You’re going to kill me."

She smirked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Oh, I think you can handle it."

And then she was lowering herself onto him, inch by delicious inch, until he was buried deep inside her. Archer let out a low groan, his head falling back against the headrest as she began to move, her hips rocking against his in a slow, deliberate rhythm. The confined space of the car only heightened the sensation, every movement bringing them closer, tighter, hotter.

Her hands braced against his shoulders, as she leaned in to kiss him again. This time it was all teeth and tongue, desperate and hungry. Archer could feel the tension building between them like a storm about to break. He let one hand slide up her back, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer, his other hand gripping her hip, guiding her movements.

"You feel so damn good," he muttered, his voice rough with need. "Always so perfect."

She moaned softly, her hips picking up speed as she ground against him, her body trembling with the effort. Archer could feel her tightening around him, her breath hitching as she got closer to the edge. He moved his hand to her breast, his fingers teasing her nipple until she cried out, her head falling back as her body arched.

"Archer," she gasped, her voice barely audible over the sound of their ragged breathing. "I’m so close?—"

"Come for me," he growled, his grip on her hip tightening as he thrust up into her harder, driving her closer to the edge. "Let go."

Her body tensed, her nails digging into his shoulders as she cried out in ecstasy, her climax washing over her in waves. Archer could feel her pulsing around him, and it was enough to send him over the edge too. He buried himself deep inside her, his own release crashing over him like a tidal wave.

"Daphne," he groaned, his voice rough and raw.

For a moment, they just sat there, their bodies still joined, their breaths coming in ragged pants. Archer pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he savored the feeling of her wrapped around him, her warmth, her scent,her.

Archer and Daphne untangled themselves from the confines of the Corvette’s driver’s seat. Archer’s skin was flush with the heat of their encounter, and he couldn’t help but smirk as he watched Daphne adjust her skirt, her cheeks still tinged with the aftermath of their passion. She caught his gaze and rolled her eyes, but the smirk she tried to suppress told him she wasn’t annoyed—just amused.

"Someone’s feeling smug," she teased, stepping out of the car and smoothing her hair.

Archer shrugged, his voice low and gravelly as he closed the car door behind her. "Can’t help it when I’m with you. You bring it out of me."

She laughed, a sound that made his chest fill with warmth, and he couldn’t resist grabbing her hand as they headed inside. Archer led her up the staircase, their footsteps echoing softly against the marble steps. He didn’t need to say anything; the tension between them was still thick, unspoken, and electric.

When they reached the bathroom, Archer turned to her, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "You’re keeping those clothes on much longer than I’d like." He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against the hem of her shirt.

They undressed each other slowly, the heat of their earlier encounter still sizzling between them. Archer’s hands were large, but his touch was deliberate, almost reverent as he peeled away her clothes. Daphne, for her part, wasn’t shy. Her fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, her nails scraping lightly against his chest as she pushed it off his shoulders. When they were finally bare, Archer stepped back, his eyes roaming over her body with a hunger that made her shiver.

"Damn, you’re beautiful," he muttered, his voice rough.

"You’re not so bad yourself," she shot back, her tone teasing but her cheeks flushing.

Archer grabbed her hand and led her into the walk-in shower, the glass doors sliding shut behind them. The water turned on with a hiss, steam quickly filling the space. Archer reached for the soap, his movements slow and deliberate as he lathered up his hands. "Turn around," he ordered, his voice soft but firm.

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