Page 69 of Edged
It was relief.
“Archie, I’m close. I’m go—”
“No, you’re not.”
He grabbed my bicep and gave my arm a sharp tug, tearing my hand away from my dick. It was almost like a movie in rewind, the glorious comfort I’d just stepped into was gone in a flash, and I was back in the forest, in the dark and discomfort once again. A frustrated sound tore out of my mouth and I punched the ground with my fist as the promise of my release evaporated into the ether.
“Why did you…” I could barely make words for how angry and desperate the move had left me.
He hummed and dragged his thumb across my cheekbone. There was wetness beneath his touch, and I didn’t know if it was sweat or tears. Probably both.
“Because you’re gorgeous like this.” He licked the pad of his thumb, expression turning positively feral.
My brain was scrambled, thoughts making little to no sense as every spare drop of blood in my body had centered itself between my legs. I didn’t even think I needed to touch myself at that point, but I also knew if he asked me to do it again, I would.
The ease of my submission to him should have terrified me, and I hated to find that it didn’t. He was still the same Archie I’d known for my whole life. There were only so many things between us that could change, my desire to feel his wrath upon my body clearly not one of them.
“Okay,” he said under his breath, attention finally fully focused on me. “Get up.”
“Are you serious?”
Archie stood from the couch and hauled me up with him, not even bothering to put my cock back into my pants. He pulled me down the hallway toward one of the playrooms and shoved me inside, closing the door with his foot.
I hadn’t paid much attention to the room the first time I was in there, and my focus was too shot to pay it any mind now. What I knew was Archie walked me to the far wall where there was a full length mirror, then he shoved my pants to my knees and took my cock into his own hand. His other hand rested around my throat, not constricting, just holding me in place.
“Look at yourself,” he whispered in my ear, pulling up my length with little concern or care for how much his hand hurt me.
I blinked myself into focus, looking at us both in the mirror and almost coming on the spot. I looked like a disheveled mess, sweaty and flustered with my pants around my knees and my cockhead as purple as a grape. Behind me, Archie looked far more put together, still dressed entirely, but his dick pushed against my back with an urgent ferocity, and I could see the frenzy in the dark pools of his eyes.
“Do you see it?” he asked, stroking and pulling my cock like it was a toy.
“See what?” I wanted to rest my head against his shoulder. I wanted to slide onto my knees and curl up into a ball. Every muscle in my body trembled and ached for how tightly I’d been wound.
“How fucking gorgeous you are.” He nipped my earlobe and growled. “How fucking mine you are.”
The words were my undoing, my orgasm slamming through us both without so much as a warning. Cum shot out of my cock like a cannon blast, splattering against the mirror and finally taking out my knees. I went to the ground with a shout, and Archie moved with me, easing the fall before my knees hit the floor. The tightness of his grip didn’t waver and neither did his speed, and I sobbed, entire body bucking against him, even though in the very darkest parts of my mind, I had no real interest in getting away.
And that…
That was the one thing in my life that I wasn’t sure about anymore.
CHAPTER21
ARCHIE
It tookthe rest of the night, and six orgasms, but Owen’s body had finally given out on him just before four a.m. His lips formed the wordplease,but no sound came out, his eyes fell closed, and he almost immediately started to snore.
I adjusted myself against the headboard to watch him, relishing the way his tanned and tattooed skin offered such a sharp contrast against my sheets, beneath my hands. If there was anything I’d ever wanted in my life, it was this, it was him, and a weekend wouldn’t be enough. A weekend with Owen would be enough to show me how good life could have been if I hadn’t been such a stupid and immature prick after college. The sight of him, lips parted and thighs sticky with cum, was enough to make me forget all of the reasons I’d acted the way I had back then. It was almost enough to make me forget why there still wasn’t a future for us.
I loved him. I’d told him as much, but words were words, and words didn’t mean anything. Words were just useless tools that kept me up at night, questioning every choice I’d ever made. I watched Owen sleep for two and half hours, unmoving except for the drool that slicked down his chin and pooled on the pillowcase.
Carefully extracting myself from bed after realizing sleep was never going to come for me, I made my way into the kitchen where I brewed a cup of coffee and carried it into the back yard. I brought my phone with me, debating the idea of doing something absolutely catastrophic like calling Mandy, but my fingers knew better and dialed Flynn instead.
He didn’t answer, so I called him again, and he finally picked up with a yawn and a muttered curse.
“You better be dying,” he grumbled.
“It feels like it sometimes.”
