Shaken (Twisted Fox #2) - Charity Ferrell Page 0,73
mine. “Someone who didn’t care, who I was too good for, would’ve never gifted something so meaningful.”
He shuts his eyes, and his voice thickens when he drops the necklace. “Georgia, do you still want me?”
My breath catches in my throat, and I repeat his question in my head, as if I misheard him. My heart skitters before battering against my chest.
He stares at me with intent.
Desire radiates between us.
Longing whispers in the air.
His breathing labors as I creep closer, the sheets soft against my skin, until we’re inches apart. His breath is chilly against my cheek.
“Always,” I answer before brushing my lips against his.
He groans into my mouth.
Our kiss starts slow.
Gentle.
His tongue darts into my mouth.
His heavy hand cups my face as we make out like teenagers, him devouring me.
Everything changes when I grind against him. Long gone is the light kissing, now replaced with an urgency.
“Shit,” he hisses into my mouth, wrapping his arm around my waist to tug me close.
Another groan escapes him when I hitch my leg over his waist, and all hell breaks loose. The spark has been lit, and the fire is starting. I’m rolled onto my back, and he climbs over me, our mouths staying connected. I part my legs, giving him access to everything I wish he’d take as his—make his. I gasp for breath when he pulls away and stares at me with lust-filled eyes.
“Last night, you said you didn’t want to be used to heal my pain, which I understood,” he says. “That’s not what today is—hell, it wasn’t even what last night was. I want you, Georgia—not just intimately—and if you want me to stop, say the word.”
“Don’t you dare stop.” I raise my hips and rub against him.
He groans, throwing his head back, while his hand tugs at the drawstring on my pants. I lift my butt, allowing him to slip them and my panties off me. After he tosses them onto the floor, his eyes flick to me in question, and I nod. Sliding down the bed, he parts my thighs with no hesitation and settles his body between them. His eyes stray, peeking between my legs, and I’ve never felt so exposed in my life.
Yet I don’t feel shy.
My legs are shaking as he sweeps his hands along the inside of my thighs.
“Georgia,” he says, staring up at me, “let me make up for the time I should’ve been doing this, should’ve been pleasuring you, loving you, showing you how much you mean to me. Let me make up for my stupidity.”
I gulp, nodding, and he grips my legs, holding them still. Without wasting a second, he slides the length of his tongue between my folds. My back arches toward the ceiling, and his delivery isn’t what I anticipated.
I’ve had guys go down on me before, but it was nothing like this.
Archer sucks on my clit, shoving two fingers inside me, and I squirm beneath him. He raises my shirt and shoves his hand underneath the cup of my bra, exposing my nipple.
“Please,” I beg as he pinches it before squeezing my breast.
I want this to last the rest of my life, but with his fingers and his tongue and him, there’s no hope for me. When he adds a third finger, I fall apart.
“Yes, come for me, baby,” he groans against my core.
I’m still coming down from my high when he lifts himself, his palms slapping on the bed on each side of my body, and claims my mouth.
“See how good you taste?” he hisses between my lips. “I’ve missed this taste. Have been craving it since our first night together.”
Heat rips through my body, begging for another orgasm, and I moan when he peels off my shirt, tossing it across the room. His hand moves to my back, lifting me to unhook my bra. I’m exposed to him, every inch of my body on display.
“Archer,” I pant, “I need you inside me.”
He stops to shake his head, his eyes meeting mine. “This is for you to feel good. Not me. I don’t deserve you yet.”
“Your cock inside me will feel good.”
He freezes.
I whistle and point at the apex of my thighs. “Your cock, inside me now.”
He smirks. “Give me another orgasm, and I’ll think about it.”
I throw my arms out. “Orgasm me away then.”
He chuckles before whispering, “You’re beautiful,” and runs his hands up and down my thighs. “Perfection,” he adds.
And I lose all thoughts as he rains kisses down my body, worshipping every inch