“Yes,” I breathed, keeping one hand on his cock, sliding the other around to cup his ass. “Fun, naked time usually involves both parties being naked.”
“Usually,” he agreed, pulling my hands free. “But I don’t think you’d protest if I left my pants on while I fucked you.”
Oh.
Oh.
While I was processing that, processing that, no, I wouldn’t protest in whatever form he would fuck me, Archer shoved down his jeans and boxer briefs and . . . holy eight inches, Batman. He’d said he wasn’t sure he could deliver on the inches, but . . . sweet Christ, the man had a cock that was huge and beautiful and made my lips tingle, desperate to have it sliding between them.
And . . . why not?
I sat up, gripped him, and guided him into my mouth.
Chapter Five
Archer
I made some sort of garbled noise when I slid into the wet heat of this woman’s mouth.
“Baby,” I groaned, when she wrapped one hand around me, used the other to cup my balls. Pleasure coiled like a spring at the base of my spine, twisting tighter and tighter until I knew that all my talk of satisfying her would be ruined if I didn’t get my cock out of her mouth.
Summoning herculean strength, I grabbed her shoulders, set her away from me, tossed her farther up the bed.
Her tits bounced like the most erotic show I’d ever seen, her legs flying wide, giving me a glimpse of wet pink folds, and even though she ordered me to, “Grab a condom,” I knew that I had to taste the sweetness of her on my tongue. I pounced, pressing my mouth to her pussy, gliding my tongue through her, finding the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, and taking my time to learn her.
Circling, not direct pressure. Using the flat of my tongue to tease out her sensitive spots, the places that brought her the most pleasure. She squirmed and bucked, tossed her head back, and then her breath hitched.
Her lips parted.
Her thighs clenched.
I didn’t stop. I’d sell my soul, lose consciousness, limbs, force my heart to halt beating before I discontinued pleasuring this woman.
“Arch—”
She moaned, hands winding into my hair, grinding against me, and then . . . she screamed.
It was the best sound I’d ever heard, and I held on to her hips, coaxing her through the peak, down the other side, and back up again, avoiding her clit but concentrating gentle and easy strokes until her hands clenched again, until they pulled me closer, until she moaned my name.
Only when her thighs tightened around me, her pelvis bucking once again, this time, I suspected, from sensitivity rather than pleasure, I released her.
“I—” she began.
I climbed up the bed, reaching over her for a condom in the nightstand and finding her lips as I rolled it down my cock.
“Ready?” I asked, needing her to be sure.
In answer, she gripped my ass, tugged me down, and—
I pushed inside.
“Fuck,” I groaned.
“Yes,” she said, spine arching off the bed, “now.”
I took her at her word, starting to move. She was tight and hot, her thighs locked around my waist, the ultimate perfect fit that threatened to undo every part of me. That coil of my control was wound tight, wound beyond what was safe and secure, ready to spring forth at the slightest provocation. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood but didn’t stop moving. And when I found a spot that had her moaning my name, had her pussy clenching around me, I didn’t speed, didn’t slow, just kept at the rhythm that had her convulsing, curse words tumbling off her tongue, her heels digging into my ass.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” I said, or maybe begged, because the edge was right there, tantalizingly close in front of me, and I needed her to orgasm before I burst into flames.
Her voice hitched, and I knew she was close.
Thank fuck, she was close.
Reaching between us, I pressed my thumb to her clit.
And she plummeted, her orgasm washing through her, my cock squeezed tight, pulling me over the edge, sending me plummeting right along with her. Pleasure exploded at the base of my spine, blazing through me, my muscles growing taut and then slack as I collapsed, barely able to get my elbows beneath me so I didn’t crush her.
Sweat dripped between my shoulder blades, my abs burned like a motherfucker. I could even feel a foot cramp coming on.
But this had, hands down, been the best sex of my life.
I flopped to the side, chest still heaving, concrete compressing my limbs, dragging them down, making my body lax and limp. By the time I caught my breath, sleep had edged into my brain.
I should move, get up, but I’d just had an orgasm that had nearly blown my spine from my body, so instead I just soaked in the pleasure, the warm woman next to me, the relaxation creeping into me. Hell, it felt like it had been ages since I’d been able to let my guard down with a woman, since I could lie in bed and just . . . be for a couple of minutes.
She rolled to her side, curled up next to me, resting her hand on my chest.
Ice down my spine. Pleasure dissipating to smoke. The real world intruding.
Then she rested her head on my shoulder, traced light patterns over my skin. “You weren’t lying,” she murmured, the ing punctuated with a yawn. “You satisfied, and then some.”
I chuckled, rested my hand on her hip. “Glad I lived up to the hype.”
“Uh-huh.” She nuzzled closer, went still and quiet.
A knot in my chest loosened, one I hadn’t even comprehended that I’d held on to . . . well, since May.
Not the month.
My ex-wife.
Chapter Six
Dominique
My head was spinning,
