Page 58 of Marrying the Billionaire

Archer

My body relaxes as she opens her mouth further, inviting me to lick my way in, her taste already necessary. I cup her jaw, changing the angle of our kiss, restraining myself so I don’t overwhelm her, though I’m dying to discover every secret part of her.

My wife.

Does she know how much of a turn on it was to hear her refer to herself that way? The rush of possession that ran through me? The trail of goosebumps that chased over my skin? But why would hearing it from her lips cause that level of reaction within me?

I don’t remember exactly what I said to her while half asleep, but as my morning wood pressed into her ass, her sweet voice telling me I’d been looking at her like I wanted her, the fog lifted from my mind.

What she said was true. I just thought I’d hidden it better.

It still feels like I’m in a dream as she runs her hand over my chest, dipping down to my abs, flirting over the waistband of my boxers, her fingers light but purposeful as she finds the flap, stroking me softly.

I suck in a breath, her touch on me everything I’ve imagined. Not that I’ve been imagining this exact scenario. Not that the tiniest part of me hoped this might happen when I invited her in my bed. I swear the overwhelming part was only thinking of keeping her out of her room where God knows what else could go wrong. And if she’s in here with me, I know she’s safe.

Her hand moves over me steadily, gripping just right, and I’m helpless to do anything but accept her touch, groaning aloud at how good it is. How does she have this kind of power over me already?

“Do you like it when I touch you too?” she asks against my lips, still eagerly kissing me.

“I think you can tell how much I do.” I thrust into her hand, her fingers velvety soft over me, my hips pumping instinctively as she gives me more than I was ever expecting.

She gives me.

Oh, shit. I’m no better than those other assholes, am I? Taking from her without giving in return.

My hand sneaks under her shirt, trailing up her stomach to find her breast, shaping the weight gently, a thrill running through me at finally having my hands on her.

Her fingers fumble in their stroking as she releases a sound of pleasure, and I position her on her back, lifting her shirt to better access what’s underneath, wanting to taste her next. She lets go of me to thread her hands in my hair as I bend down and tenderly nuzzle her, taking my time, capturing a nipple in my mouth to gently suck her.

“Archer,” she pants, just like she did the other night in my office, her hips lifting, seeking relief.

I tease the edge of the boxers she’s wearing, sneaking a hand inside to pull her lace panties aside, her pussy already wet for me.

She makes an unintelligible sound as I enter a finger slowly, giving her time to adjust around me before I move in and out, building her up.

“Has a guy ever fingered you?” I add a second finger, gliding easily, her arousal coating me.

“No,” she moans, tugging at my hair, turning frantic. “You’re the only one. The only one who’s ever made me feel this way.”

Pride bursts in my chest, my mouth returning to hers, giving her a deep kiss that goes on and on, the two of us desperate for one another. She makes these tiny sounds of encouragement in the back of her throat, ratcheting my desire higher, and I can’t help but brush my dick along her inner thigh, needing relief.

She takes hold of me again, pumping me roughly, the pressure making me groan as we continue on for long minutes, our breaths turning harsher as we work each other up. A tingle races down my spine, but I don’t want to come without her. I just need to get her there too.

My thumb finds her clit, massaging it gently, and she lets out a keening cry, toppling over the edge, and I follow right behind, taking her hand and angling myself up so I jet on my stomach, a heavy sense of satisfaction filling me. I slowly withdraw my fingers from her as she twitches with aftershocks and I grab a tissue off the nightstand, wiping myself clean.

She lets out a satisfied sigh and curls herself into my side, her body soft and relaxed. I inhale, trying to get more of her scent, but there’s only a heavy musk in the air from our interlude.

“That was amazing,” she whispers. “Even better than the other night.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her all the other things on my mind to do. Her spread wide for me as I hungrily eat her out. Her riding atop me as I suck those sweet nipples, her pleading cries spurring me on. Me thrusting inside her as I tease her clit again, wanting to hear her come for me once more. We’ve barely scratched the surface.

But I stay quiet, still coming to terms with this atypical behavior on my part. I can’t remember craving another person this badly, the sense of possession that had flooded me knowing I was the only one to do this for her.

She said things are already changing, and that’s true, but how much? What does this mean for this… relationship we’ve found ourselves in?

She rubs a hand over my chest, drawing small circles over my pectorals, and my body relaxes again into the mattress, my mind taking her advice and letting go of the urge to solve this right away.

I turn over and find my phone on the nightstand, the display nearly blinding me with its brightness. Quarter to seven. There goes my morning workout.

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