Page 79 of Samhain Savior
“I’ve got you, witch,” he said, his voice low. “Trust me.”
That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? It was exactly what Phips had told me to do in his letter.Trust a demon.
At first, it had seemed impossible; his kind and mine had been enemies for hundreds of hears. But the more time I spent with Archer—with all the guys, really—the more I realized that those prejudices were mostly smoke and mirrors. There were no lines drawn between us by faction alone. There were good and bad members from both camps, as our run-in with Helena and her filthy, traitorous coven just proved.
Archer had shown me time and again who he was. It was time that I believed him.
Standing there, my body thrumming with pent-up energy as Archer held my very soul in his hands, I realized that trusting him was the easiest thing I had ever done.
“Yes,” I agreed simply, feeling my whole body relax into his hold as his strong arms curled around me and pulled me toward him, the heat of his body like a furnace as he pressed his face into the crook of my neck, breathing me in. Lifting my arms, I wrapped them around his neck, tilting my head back to grant him access as he kissed and suckled along the tender skin under my jaw.
At my throat, the shadow collar pulsed, the sensation soothing, encouraging even, as Archer’s lips ghosted over the place where it rested.
“Not chasing me away this time?” he murmured, and I wondered if he was talking to me or the collar. Either way, I couldn’t answer him, as in the next moment, he swept me up, spinning me around and planting me on his lap, my legs spread lewdly over his.
“I can smell your desire, witch,” he purred, his chest rumbling against my back as one hand wrapped around my throat from behind. “I wonder what I’ll find under this dress.”
Starting at my knee, Archer trailed one clawed finger up my inner thigh, gathering the hem of the dress with him as he went. Across from us, Astaroth leaned forward in hisseat, his brows drawn down low and his hand stroking his cock furiously as he tried to get a look at every inch of my flesh that Archer revealed.
When he reached the apex of my thighs, Archer’s low purr turned into a rumbling groan as he discovered that while Persephone had been gracious enough to lend me a dress, she hadn’t been as generous with undergarments.
“Fucking bare,” he growled, his thick finger sliding up and down my slit.
“Show me!” Astaroth demanded, his view of my body blocked by the fabric of my dress and Archer’s large hand. “Let me see how she drips for you.”
“You’ll shut your fucking mouth and take what I give you, Duke.” With those words, Archer spread his legs even wider, taking mine with him as he did. His hand on my throat gave a firm squeeze before moving lower, cupping my breast through the dress, causing me to let out another appreciative moan.
My mind was spinning, so many sensations overwhelming my senses that I could hardly focus on any of them. Closing my eyes, I tried to float away, riding on the river offeelingthat was carrying me away. I felt like my chest was expanding, filling with heat as Archer continued to stroke my pussy with his blunt-tipped claws.
“No!” he suddenly spat, his fingers delivering a sharp pinch to the nipple he had been playing with. Bringing his hand back up to my throat, he cupped my jaw in his large palm and tipped my head back so that I was gazing up at him. “Eyes on me. Only me. I want to see every single second of this.”
With those words, he dipped one finger carefully inside me, hissing as his broad digit penetrated me slowly.
“Slippery little witch,” he rumbled, and my inner muscles clenched around his finger at the dirty words. Words he’d thrown at me in insult several times, but when he uttered them now, they felt like praise. “So wet for me. So ready.”
“Yes,” was all I could say, but my hips began to churn, chasing his finger as he pulled it back and then slid it in again. Over and over, he repeated the motion, moving deeper with every thrust, and beneath me, I could feel his cock hardening against my ass, the massive ridge it created in his torn pants making me both desperate and intimidated.
“Fuck her harder, Archer,” Astaroth commanded, the words rough. “Let me hear how wet she is.” He was panting, the words barely audible through his low, hungry growl. “Make her scream.”
“I won’t tell you again, Astaroth. Shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shut it for you,” Archer spat, but he also sped up his hand, adding a second finger as he moved them in and out of me at a faster pace, the stretch burning in the best of ways. My head was cradled against his shoulder, my body writhing on his lap as I ground against his hard cock, the ache inside me calling for more even as his fingers had me hurtling toward an orgasm.
The fire burning in my chest continued to rage, and I knew that whatever it was, I wasn’t going to be able to contain it for much longer.
“Fuck.” Archer groaned, his lips pressed to my throat. He kissed me there, then I felt his tongue dart out, the forked end dancing over my pulse where it beat in my neck. “Look at you. So beautiful. Ready to come for me. You belong to me, witch. Your pleasure, your fire, your verysoul.” His words rolled over me, and I found myself nodding, ready to agree to whatever he wanted as long as he’d let me come. “You belong to me, Delilah. Don’t you?” I moaned, and he snarled, his fingers curling inside me deliciously. “You’re mine! Tell me you agree?”
“Yes!” I cried. “Yes, I’m yours.”
Archer snarled, my acceptance of his ownership fueling him, and he sank his teeth into the flesh where my neck met my shoulder, just below the shadow collar—whichhad gone suspiciously still—marking me in a way that was somehow both brutal and tender at the same time. I screamed, the pain sparking something deep inside me, even as my blood began to leave a hot trail down my skin. Suddenly, Archer was there, the carnal lick of his forked tongue making me gasp as he dragged it across the bite, lapping up my blood, finishing with what I was almost certain was a soft, reverent kiss against his mark.
Finally, I came, the orgasm cresting through me like a tidal wave. My eyes slammed closed against a burst of bright white light and I screamed Archer’s name, wave after wave of pleasure rolling through me. At the same time, the burning in my chest exploded, a searing pain slicking through the hazy euphoria of my orgasm, the combination somehow enhancing and increasing the ecstasy as my body clamped down on Archer’s fingers, even as he continued to pump them slowly inside me, shallower with each stroke until he finally pulled out completely, leaving me feeling hollow.
When I finally roused, blinking blearily around the room as I tried to catch my breath, the first thing I noticed was the shocking quiet. When I tried to move, Archer stopped me, righting my dress and moving me carefully behind him, like he was trying to protect me from something.
It was then that I noticed Astaroth, standing before his chair, pants undone, glaring at me with abject hatred.
“You!” he hissed, pointing his finger at me in rage. “What the fuck did you do?”
Chapter thirty-six
