Accidentally on Purpose (Heartbreaker Bay #3)(42)

He draped himself over her in a protective shell, his chest plastered along her back, his legs encasing hers, one arm around her middle, palming a breast, the other between her legs, those fingers slowly but surely driving her right out of her ever loving mind. His mouth was just as busy, his teeth teasing the side of her throat, her jaw. “Good?” he murmured.

She nodded and then, to make sure he didn’t stop, gripped his wrist to hold his hand in place as lightning flashed through the window. She jerked but he wrapped himself around her. “I’ve got you,” he murmured.

And he did. He had her writhing against him as he urged her thighs open as far as they could get with her panties wrapped around them and his long, powerful legs on either side of hers, all while his fingers teased, cajoled, coaxed her into a hot mess, knowingly moving in an oscillating circle that seriously tugged every single thought right out of her head. She felt surrounded by him, completely surrounded in the very best possible way as his hot, wet mouth played over the nape of her neck and shoulders. Her head fell back, her breath coming in short, desperate little whimpers, her entire world shrunk to this, to the pleasure of his body and mouth and fingers . . . God, those fingers. “Archer—”

“You’re close,” he whispered hotly in her ear. “I can feel it.”

She opened her mouth to disagree because she didn’t come quickly. Ever. But apparently she did now. She burst, quivering in delicious orgasm and then, before she could process the shock of that, he’d managed to put on a condom and thrust inside her, and she came yet again. Or still . . .

“Fuck, Elle . . .” His fingers tightened on her hips as he filled her to capacity, reducing her to a puddle of goo. “You feel so good.”

She bit her tongue hard so she wouldn’t make any noise, but it was almost impossible to remain quiet with him so hot and silky hard inside of her. She could feel every single inch of him as he slid in and out, thrusting harder and deeper with each stroke, and it felt so incredible that she came again, oblivious to the storm around them or the fact that she was on her knees, bent over the table, begging for more.

He gave it to her, everything she wanted, and when she cried out his name, he groaned something back, something hot and erotically dirty, and he shuddered and finally let himself go.

From the dim recesses of her mind she remembered how she’d felt watching that couple go at each other in the elevator like the rest of the world didn’t exist, remembered thinking wistfully that she’d never experienced such a thing.

She could now check that box off.

For a long moment they stayed still in that instance in the dark, Archer pressed up against her, the two of them panting for air, muscles trembling, before he finally shifted.

And she thought, okay, that’s it. He’s going to stand, zip, and walk out the door.

But he didn’t, and in perhaps the sweetest thing he’d ever done, he lingered there with her in the dark, stormy night, still inside her, his mouth brushing lazily and warmly up and down the nape of her neck, his arms tight around her.

Cuddling.

He was cuddling her.

When his thumb brushed over her nipple, her entire body jerked, hungry for more, the greedy thing. A little bit unnerved by that, she elbowed him to give her space, and when he did, she staggered to her feet.

A small beam of light came on and she blinked.

Archer had a penlight between his teeth and was buttoning his trousers. From within his pocket, his phone was vibrating, as it had been on and off for a while now.

Not in any apparent hurry, he set the still-lit penlight on the table where he’d just given her the best orgasms—plural!—of her life.

She’d never look at the table the same way again.

Her gaze drifted to the love seat next. Following her gaze, he laughed. “I’ll get it out of here for you,” he said.

“No, that’s okay.” It was Friday night, the courtyard would be a hotbed of action in spite of the storm. She didn’t need everyone to see him carrying it out, speculating about what had happened. Although in this case, the truth was probably crazier than anything anyone could make up. “Luis will get it for me.”

Archer lifted his head and studied her. His eyes softened and a small smile crossed his mouth. He stepped into her, pushed the hair off her hot and sweaty forehead, and brushed his mouth over her temple. “You okay?”

A low laugh huffed out of her. “I think you know that I am. I didn’t expect that to be so . . .” She shook her head, at a loss for words.

He let out a slow exhale. “I did.”

She met his gaze and at the look on his face something inside her clutched hard. He regretted what they’d just done. The best time of her life and he regretted it. “Are you about to piss me off again, Archer?” she managed to ask.

“We both know I can do that without trying.”

Not exactly an answer. She laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, well if your next few words are anything along the lines of ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘that was a mistake’ or ‘I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you,’ then it’s a definitely.”

He just held her gaze and her heart stopped. “Wow.” That she was right gave her no satisfaction at all. “You know what?” She gestured to the door. “I want you to go now”—she pointed at his mouth when he opened it—“without saying another word so that I can still stand the sight of you.”