My whole body was like a wet noodle, but I mustered enough strength to reach up and pull his face to mine, kissing him with all the unspoken feelings burning in my chest. I loved him. I knew it, and he knew it. But I just wasn't ready to force the words past my lips. Things between us were still too fresh, too raw.
I was terrified that the next time he pushed me away, it'd break me.
He didn't pressure me for more words, just slid his fingers down to my throbbing, hyper-sensitive pussy, where I was slick with his own seed. I groaned as he stroked me, his fingers becoming soaked with the result of our combined climaxes.
"Fuck that's hot," he muttered, his lids heavy as he stared down at his fingers sliding in and out of me. I was still aching, but I parted my legs wider, letting him play. His thumb found my clit and I cried out, but that just got him hard all over again. That shit wasn't normal, but I wasn't going to question it. Maybe the alien theory was right.
"Arch," I moaned, reaching for his rapidly hardening dick. My hand wrapped around him, pumping down his shaft while I watched his breath hitch. Seeing his reactions almost got me off as easily as his fingers in my pussy could.
"Turn over." He took his hand away and sat up. I scrambled to do as he ordered, my own heart thudding with excitement as he amended that command. "On your knees, Princess."
He positioned himself behind me, the tip of his cock nudging against my swollen cunt as I tried to rock back onto him. He let out a low chuckle, then reached forward and gathered my hair all up in one hand. His other hand gripped my hip hard enough to leave fingerprint marks, and it just made me pant.
"Just so we're real crystal clear, baby girl," he murmured as he pushed his way back into my body, making me shudder with waves of arousal. "We're not done with that argument."
Shock rippled through me, but he didn't give me a chance to retort. His hand in my hair pulled tight, forcing me to arch my neck. His hips slammed into me, his huge cock filling me up over and over. His pace didn't falter once until I was screaming my way through another orgasm. Only then did he slow, waiting me out.
When he withdrew without coming, I made a sound of protest.
Archer just chuckled a dark and lust-filled sound as he got to his feet, and I sat back on my heels. No encouragement was needed for me to part my lips and take him in my mouth.
"Fucking hell," Archer groaned as I swallowed him deeper and sucked him hard. His hands came to the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my cake-covered hair, pushing and pulling at me as he set his pace.
When he came a few moments later, I swallowed eagerly, then licked him all over before sitting back with a satisfied grin.
Archer started laughing. He sank to his knees in front of me and kissed me like his life depended on it. "Totally goddamn perfect," he murmured between kisses, "for me."
15
As fun as it had been to throw cake in Archer's face and then fuck all over the bakery kitchen, the clean-up was significantly less enjoyable. Washing cake from my face, hair, and breasts was easy enough in the restroom, but trying to get it off my dress? Impossible.
"Dammit, Archer," I snapped as I exited the bathroom in my stained dress with my hair scraped back into a ponytail. "I can't go out in public like this!"
He threw a smirk, swiping his tattooed hand through his wet hair. "Why not? You look good enough to eat."
My glare turned venomous. "Ha-fucking-ha, wise guy. Look at this! I look like I've just taken a load of cum all over my tits." Because no shit, that's what cake frosting looked like when it dried onto fabric.
Archer snagged me by the back of my neck and pulled me into his huge frame. "Not yet, but that could be arranged."
Typical. With an irritated growl—and more than a little arousal—I shoved him off me and stormed back through to the kitchen to find my shoes and panties. I'd managed to find my bra and dress before washing up, but the rest of my outfit had been elusive.