‘Yes, like that and…’ her voice hitched, ‘and more and…’ She wiggled her hips a little, side to side and Archer immediately caught on, moving his thumb from left to right with a little more pressure and, holy shit, was that good. This man was not screwing around.
Iris’s moan was far too loud for how early it still was, and the fact that they were in the middle of the kitchen and that there was a child—hopefully, please Jesus—sleeping down the hall. Oh God, this really was a bad idea, but pleasure was seeping into all of her limbs, sparking and hot, and they couldn’t stop now!
Archer covered her mouth with his, swallowing her moans and gasps and sighs, and that hand kept going, harder and faster until Iris couldn’t breathe or think or care that this was a categorically terrible idea.
‘Come for me, Iris,’ he rasped, his forehead against hers and Iris whimpered, the pleasure building so fast and sharp and sudden, that if Archer hadn’t kissed her again, she would have screamed loud enough to wake the neighbors.
‘I knew it,’ she said, pulling away, panting and shaking.
‘Knew what?’ Archer asked, his fingers still stroking her, slow and leisurely now and Iris trembled under his touch.
‘I knew those hands were capable of all kinds of things.’
Archer’s smile grew, pressing that thumb down again and sending a second wave of pleasure coursing through Iris’s body. She gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth, her legs shaking on the counter.
When he took his hand away and licked his fingers, his groan nearly as loud as hers, Iris practically melted clear off the counter.
‘That was a bad idea,’ he said, staring at where she was still loose-limbed on the counter.
She knew it was, but it still sucked to hear when she was in her post-amazing-orgasm state. ‘It was?’
‘Yeah,’ his voice came out choked. ‘Now that I’ve tasted you, I want more.’
Heat flooded Iris’s body. ‘Oh.’
Archer shook his head and took a step back and Iris immediately missed his heat between her thighs.
‘That was too risky, though,’ he said. ‘Olive could have come out at any time.’
‘It’s like being a teenager but in reverse.’
Archer looked confused.
‘Like being worried your parents are going to catch you making out on the couch, but now we’re worried about your kid catching us.’ And kissing Olive’s dad in the kitchen probably wouldn’t do much for her ‘we’re never getting married’ argument.
‘Right.’ Archer huffed a pained laugh. ‘And I don’t think I can afford doubling her therapy sessions if she catches us.’
‘Right,’ Iris said, hopping down from the counter onto shaky legs. Archer steadied her with a hand on her elbow. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have?—’
‘Don’t apologize.’ His words were stern, final.
‘But what about you?’ Iris gestured to the front of his sweatpants that were now even more obscene than usual due to the prominent erection pressing against them. Quite prominent.
Look away, Iris!
Archer flashed her a wicked grin. ‘Just more fuel for the shower, I guess.’
Iris’s eyes widened.
‘Goodnight, Iris,’ he said, planting one more searing kiss on her lips before turning and walking down the hall. When he went into the bathroom instead of his bedroom, Iris had to lean against the counter. Her legs were weak again.
Somehow that intense kitchen-counter orgasm wasn’t nearly enough and now thinking about Archer in the shower, thinking about her…
It was too much.
Time for bed, Iris.
And good luck sleeping.