Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

Easton

M y heart is beating almost too loudly to hear my thoughts…the fact that I answered Ella with a no out loud that Archer heard.

I tell myself that even though I want this, I should put a stop to it right now, tell him to fuck off with that good-boy shit. I’m not a boy, and I’m sure as shit not good, but I don’t say that. Maybe even wish he would tell me again. There’s no harm in letting Archer lie to me.

“You kissing me, or what?” I say because it’s a lot easier to be a dick or ignore important shit than it is to let myself focus on it.

“Yeah.” Archer grins. It’s a smile that isn’t a lie, that doesn’t harbor secrets. How can he do that? How can he be that? And why can’t I?

He leans in and takes my mouth. It’s different from the last kiss, maybe because it’s Archer kissing me this time or because he told me he wants me. Maybe it’s those two words he said that I shouldn’t fucking want him to say again.

Archer’s tongue flicks at my lips, then sneaks into my mouth, and tasting him, smelling his cedary scent feels like it’s building a wall to try and block out all the noise and memories that plague me every second of every day.

His hand slides to the back of my neck, holding, squeezing with just enough pressure to feel strangely possessive and comforting at the same time. Archer deepens the kiss, explores my mouth with his tongue, like there’s not one millimeter he wants to leave untraveled, untasted, like he really does want me the way he says he does. It’s sex, of course. I’m not stupid enough to see it as anything more than that, but in this moment, I don’t feel like the East who screws everything up. The East who makes people’s lives harder. With him, right now, I’m just a man making another man feel good.

My skin prickles with need, cock throbbing as it fills and hardens. When he pulls back, the familiar burst of panic shoots through me, wanting more, not wanting this to stop, needing to be close, to feel his skin against mine, bodies pressed together in a way I only allow myself during sex, but with Archer it’s intensified. Probably because he’s seen me in moments no one else has. Sometimes it feels like he can see inside me, and that scares me because I don’t want him to dislike what he finds. I push forward again, wanting to kiss him, to have this night before he realizes again this is a bad idea.

I try to climb onto his lap, to straddle him on the porch the way I’d done in his living room. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.

“I’m not going anywhere. Why don’t we take this into the house? Show me how good you can be for me, East.”

I nearly growl in response. Want to do exactly as he says and try to be good.

I’ve never fucked someone in my house before. Their place, bars, cars, the woods, a hundred other places except my house, but then, I’ve also never done this with someone I know either.

I stand up. Don’t say anything to him because I don’t know what I would say, but I look at him, try to tell him to come with me, and Archer stands too.

Pretty Girl and Casanova are cuddling on the couch. I’d thought we could go there, but I don’t want to move them.

So I head straight for the stairs, hope he follows me up without a word. When I hear Archer’s steps behind me, I breathe out a sigh of relief. As soon as he gets to my room, I wonder why I didn’t take him to the spare, but I distract myself by taking off my shoes. Archer does the same, but when I go for my shirt, he says, “Be a good boy and let me do that.”

My cock twitches. “Jesus, why do you keep saying that?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

We both know I don’t.

“If you’re gonna take my clothes off, you should hurry and do it.”

He chuckles when I expect him to get annoyed. Nothing seems to bother him. My antics don’t do their job in pushing him away.

Archer tugs at my tee, pulling it over my head and dropping it to the floor. “You’re so fucking sexy…look at all this ink.” He leans in, his tongue lashing over my pec. My knees weaken in a way I would be embarrassed about if I wasn’t so turned on.

My whole chest and arms are covered in black ink, Archer touching each of them, kissing them, caressing them, until he moves to my back, and I hold my breath. There’s only one tattoo there, on my shoulder—a butterfly.

My eyes fall closed, waiting for him to mention it, waiting for him to ask why it’s the only thing there, why a butterfly.

“Look at it, East. Isn’t it pretty?” The memory comes unbidden, a young Ella standing in front of me, looking at the butterfly that had landed on her shoulder. “We should collect butterflies.”

“Okay,” I tell her. That’s how we work. If one of us likes something, the other does too.

“Hey…where did you go?” Archer asks, and I have no idea how or why that happened. He runs his fingers through my hair, the corners of his brown eyes creased in concern.

“Fuck me,” I rush out, smashing our mouths together. My fingers go for his jeans—unbuttoning, unzipping, tugging them down. I need to feel…I don’t know… I’m always so damn empty, and I want to feel full, want to feel whole, want pleasure to take the place of all my pain.

Archer’s tongue is a welcome invasion in my mouth. He kisses me hard, arms around my waist as he backs me up to the bed. When my knees hit the mattress, I go down on it, forcing our mouths apart, and I feel empty again.

“Jesus, something about you gets to my head,” he tells me as he finishes tugging off his clothes. His cock is long and thick, balls big and heavy, and damn, do I want to bury my face in them, to be so good for him and work a load out of them.

I reach out, wrap a hand around him, stroke the dick that I’m dying to have stretching me out. I want to suck him, to taste him, to get on my knees for him, but right now my body is begging to be filled in a different way.

“Fuck, that feels good, but I want to see you too. Take your clothes off for me like a good boy.”

A wave of pleasure washes through me, my need for him almost frantic as I let go of him and rip the rest of my clothes off. I doubt I’ve ever been so hard, dick leaking, balls throbbing, body begging for more.

I lie on the bed, head on the pillows, looking up at him. Archer gets the message, getting on top of me, groins and torsos touching as he gives me one of those perfect smiles of his. “I can’t believe I have you beneath me.”

“You gonna do something with me or what?” I’m shaking with need for him.

“What do you like? I’m more of a top, but I’ve bottomed and would be willing to. Or we can—”

“Fuck me. Haven’t I said that already? I need… I want…” Fill me. Make me feel close to you. Don’t leave me alone.

“You got a hungry ass for me? Christ, East. There’s nothing I want more than to fill you up, to bury my dick so deep inside you, you’ll feel like I’m a part of you.” And then we’re kissing again, hard and urgent. I spread my legs for him, Archer’s tongue pushing into my mouth, my arms and legs wrapped around him as he thrusts against me. It feels in-fucking-credible, but it’s not enough.

I drop my head back against the pillow, reach into the nightstand and pull out my lube.

“Look at you, all ready for me. I’ll fill that pretty hole of yours, but I’m gonna kiss you too.”

He pumps lube onto his fingers, nibbles at my lip, sucks it, while he’s lowering his hand. Archer’s fingers slip down beneath my balls, rub over my rim. An electric shock of pleasure shoots through me, one that says fuck yes and more, more, more .

“Inside.” My voice sounds close to a plea, but in this moment, I can’t seem to stop myself.

He cocks his head, like my begging surprises him. That makes two of us, but I love that he doesn’t mention it. Doesn’t call me on it, and just like the good-boy thing, we just roll with it, figuring out what the fuck this is as we go.

Archer leans down, tongue lashing against my lips as he pushes his finger inside me. I push against him, chasing that feeling of being connected to him, like his finger inside me keeps me tethered to the earth.

“Fuck yes…another one. Give me another one.”

“Want more? Want me to stretch you out? Fill you up until you can’t take any more?”

Archer pushes another finger into me, and I nearly melt into the mattress. I don’t understand it, don’t know how I feel about it. I’ve had someone inside me before, been fingered and had toys and been fucked, but it never felt like this all-consuming need. That it’s about sex, yeah, but also about connection. Allowing someone to see parts of me no one ever has, allowing someone to ease some of the loneliness that’s lived in my bones for too damn long.

“Jesus. Yes. Keep going.”

He pushes his tongue into my mouth as he eases his fingers in and out of my ass. I can’t explain the thoughts going on in my head, the way I’m swept up in the feel of Archer on top of me, in me, and my brain keeps saying more, more, more .

“I…” escapes my lips when he begins kissing his way down my body.

“What is it? Tell me what you need…what you want. You’re being so good for me.”

I’m not. It’s ridiculous. But I like hearing him say it anyway, hope that if he says it enough, he can make it become true.

“You want me to fuck you?”

“I told you that.”

“Tell me again.”

“Fuck me. Fill me. Give me your cock.”

He pushes to his knees. “Jesus, that’s hot.” And as if he’s inside my head, as if he’s hearing me begging for something from him I’ve never needed from anyone else, Archer keeps his fingers inside me, not letting me feel empty and alone. “Condoms in the nightstand too?”

My heart stops. “Don’t you have any?”

“No. I rushed over here. It’s not like I thought this would happen. You don’t?”

Disappointment makes my head throb. Why the hell didn’t I think about that? “I don’t fuck people here.”

His eyes soften, like he’s yet again trying to find something in me, something that isn’t there…

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“How am I looking at you?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’m negative. We can—”

“East, I’m not fucking you raw. Not tonight, at least. I should be negative too, but I haven’t been tested in a while. Not after the last person I was with.”

“It’s fine. This was probably a stupid idea anyway.” I try to move, try to get up, but he sets his free hand on my stomach, slides his fingers out of me, then pushes them back in again. “Fuck.” I arch toward him.

“Did you think that meant I wasn’t going to make you come? Because I’m going to.” In, out, in, out. My eyes roll back. A soft, needy sound sneaks out, my ass pushing down against his fingers. “Your ass is so fucking needy for me, isn’t it?”

“What was your first clue?” I try to make the comment sound biting, but it doesn’t, and Archer chuckles.

He pumps more lube onto his fingers. “Look at me, East.”

“No.”

“Look at me,” he says again, and a stubborn part of me, one that’s scared by the fact that I called him tonight, wants to deny him, but…

My eyes find him.

“Good boy.”

I tremble, surrender to the moment and whatever it is Archer wants to do to me, as long as he keeps telling me I’m good.

“I’m going to use my fingers on this tight hole of yours while I suck your pretty cock.” He dances his fingers up my length, and I bite back a groan.

He twists his fingers, pushes in as deep as he can. The burn is a welcome sensation, the stretch and pressure too. “Yes. Please.” But the wild part is, I suddenly don’t even need to come. I just need Archer to help me not feel so goddamned empty all the time. The orgasm will just be a bonus.

“So polite,” he says playfully before bending forward, his tongue starting at my balls and giving me a long lick until he gets to the tip. He takes me deep into his mouth, the hot, wet suction driving me wild, while he finger-fucks my ass. Each time they rub against my prostate, my body sings with a pleasure I’ve never known.

When my eyes start to fall closed again, I force them open. I look at him, watch Archer because he told me to, because I want to show him I can be good for him.

He’s watching me too, dark hair hanging over his forehead, and he smiles around my cock because he fucking knows I did that for him. How the hell can this man read me so well?

Reaching down, I run my fingers through his hair, tighten my fist in the strands while he bobs on my dick, still pumping in and out of my ass. It’s so good, like I’m something to him, like he needs this connection too, though I know that’s just in my head.

He pushes a third finger into me, making my balls draw up, pushing me so close to that edge, but I don’t want to give in to it, don’t want to surrender to this feeling because when I do, it will be over.

Archer takes me to the back of his throat, swallows around the head of my cock, then brushes against my prostate. I move my hips, meet his mouth, fuck into him while silently begging deeper, deeper, deeper .

Archer pulls off my cock and buries his face in my balls, licking and sucking them.

“Look at you, taking my fingers so well. Next time it’s gonna be my dick. Gonna watch that pretty hole open and stretch around me.”

“Yes…hell yes.”

“You’d let me stay in here all night, wouldn’t you? Let me finger you and fuck you over and over and over again.”

I would. I fucking would, but I can’t make sense of why. How he manages to do this to me.

He pushes his fingers in again, and I arch off the bed.

Archer curses, and then his mouth wraps around my cock again, sucking me as he finger-fucks me, hard and fast, until I can’t hold back anymore.

“Gonna come.”

He doesn’t pull off. I figure he takes that as a safer risk, so I let go, shatter apart as spurt after spurt of cum fills his mouth.

Archer takes it all, makes greedy noises as he swallows me down, then pushes up onto his knees, fingers of one hand still in my ass, while he uses the other to stroke himself. He jerks his cock hard and fast, his gaze not allowing mine to pull away from him, even if I wanted to. The tendons in his throat strain before his mouth drops open, hot ropes of cum landing on my torso.

When he lies down beside me, he pulls his fingers out of my ass, and I immediately feel empty…alone.

“I’ll get something to clean you up,” he says.

“No.” I rub his cum into my skin, wish it were inside me.

“Okay. I…”

This is where he goes. This is where I’m normally leaving. There’s no point in staying. “I’ll lock the door behind you.”

“I was going to ask if I could stay.” He wraps an arm around my waist, kisses my shoulder, so close to Ella’s tattoo. “Can I stay, East?”

Say no, say no, say no.

“I don’t care. Fine by me.”

Archer smiles like I just gave him some kind of gift, then leans over me and turns off the lamp before pulling me into his arms.

He falls asleep, but I can’t. I’m not the best sleeper on a good day—my past often coming back in nightmares. Most of the time, I can deal with them, work through them and distract myself, but some are worse than others. Nightmares aside, I’ve never slept in bed with someone like this before. And though he’s right beside me, it still doesn’t feel close enough.