Wanting You Close (Archer & Everleigh 2)

Archer places his palm over my stomach. “I love the thought of you carrying my baby someday. I have no doubt you’d be the best mother.”

“You say things like that, and I’m gonna beg you to knock me up right now.”

He releases a choke-laugh and shakes his head. “Tyler just got used to us being together. Let’s not give him a stroke. Or me, for that matter.”

I chuckle, swinging my leg over him and sink deeper into the mattress. “Alright, fine. I like having you to myself anyway. I don’t wanna share you just yet.”

He grabs one of my breasts and squeezes. “Same.”

The next morning, I wake up to Archer bringing me coffee and breakfast in bed. We spend most of the day lounging, walking around outside, and cooking. It’s the most chill day I’ve had in months.

“Are you ready for Raphaël to give you the best massage you’ve ever had?” Archer says in a half-assed French accent.

I burst out laughing when he leads me into our room and motions for me to lay on the bed.

“Raphaël? Are you my porn fantasy come to life?”

“Yes, Madame. At your service.”

The lights are dimmed, and there’s spa music playing from his phone. It smells like he sprayed some lavender mist too. There’s a thick white towel on top of the covers, and after I remove my robe and lie on my back, I realize it’s warm.

“Did you put this in the dryer?” I ask, impressed.

“Of course, only the best for you, chérie.”

I can’t contain my smile as I think about the effort Archer put into making this a relaxing experience for me. Earlier, he drew me a hot bubble bath and streamed classical music while he set up everything. I thought it was sweet, but this is beyond my expectations. No one has ever done anything like this for me.

“I’m gonna place this hot cloth over your eyes. Keep your arms by your sides at all times unless I move them,” he orders. I have a feeling that’s going to be harder than it sounds.

Once my eyes are covered, I try to release all the tension in my shoulders. Archer has complete control over my body, and I find satisfaction in that.

Archer lathers lotion between his palms. I anticipate the coldness once he touches me, but it doesn’t come. He must’ve warmed up the bottle beforehand. His calloused hands roam over my thighs, the rough texture feels incredible against my skin. Archer digs his thumb and fingers into my muscles, carefully massaging his way down my leg.

“Madame, you feel tense. We need to loosen you up,” he states softly. I smile at his French attempt, but secretly love it.

“Yes, please. Loosen me all the way up, sir.”

Archer rubs my feet next, thoroughly massaging between each toe and digging into my heels. My feet are usually sore from standing all day.

After he glides his palms up, he spreads my legs apart, slowly and torturously moving his fingers to my pussy. I wait with anticipation as he teases the flesh around my clit. I inhale sharply and keep my arms still like he instructed, but if he continues playing with me, I won’t think twice about grabbing his hand and moving it right where I need it.

“You’re tight here too, l'amoureux,” he says as he dips a finger inside.

“Mm-hmm.” I moan.

“Wet too.”

“Yes,” I whisper.

Archer returns to my clit, rubbing lazy circles around it. The slow motion drives me insane, and I arch my hips, begging for more pressure.

“No moving, madame,” he reminds me, and I release a groan.

He swipes his fingers through my wetness, flicking and circling, slowly building me up before he stops. I grind my teeth in frustration, but he doesn’t take pity on me. Archer slides his hands up my stomach, leaving me aroused and unsatisfied.

After brushing his fingertips over my chest, he gets more lotion and thoroughly massages each breast. I pray he never stops touching me.

“Are you cold?” he asks in a teasing tone after pinching a hard nipple.

“Not exactly…” I jerk my hips again, and he stifles a laugh.

His hands roam over my shoulders and neck, softly covering every inch of me. I love that he’s taking his time, but right now, I want him to fuck me senseless.

“Alright, mon amour. Flip onto your stomach,” he demands.

Once I’m repositioned, he picks up body oil instead of lotion. The warmth drips onto my back, then his touch returns.

“Mm…I like that,” I release a sigh when he kneads my tense muscles.

Archer takes my pleasure very seriously, focusing on every inch of my body. He squeezes between my shoulders, working out all the knots, then takes a second to wipe off his hands. Next, he rakes his nails through my hair strands and up my scalp. The sensation is so tingly, I nearly fall asleep.