Secret Sins Page 8

  She was, and always had been, his weakness. Admitting to that fact hadn’t been easy. It still wasn’t easy.

  Pulling her to her feet, Archer bent to her, one arm going around the back of her knees, the other behind her shoulders as he swung her into his arms.

  The feel of silken arms wrapping around his neck made his groin tighten painfully, his cock throbbing in pure lust.

  “What the hell are you doing to me?”

  He didn’t expect an answer. Hell, he didn’t want an answer. There was a part of him that was terrified to know.

  “What can I do to you?” she asked, the breathy sound of her voice slicing at that last, thin-as-air thread of control he possessed as he mounted the stairs.

  “You can destroy me,” he retorted, his jaw so tight it felt ready to splinter as he carried her, cradling her in his arms, feeling too strong—or did she feel too fragile?

  She was fragile.

  Of body, of heart, and he knew it.

  God help him, he knew it, and still he had no choice but to take what she was offering. What he had fantasized about for far too long.

  Carrying her into his bedroom, careful to kick the door closed in case Oscar should decide to have one of those jealous tantrums of his, he carried his precious, too-delicate burden to the bed he’d dreamed of having her in.

  Lowering her to her feet beside it, the first thing he did was slide the tiny straps that held her gown over her breasts over her shoulders. As they slid down her arms, the embroidered lace fell from her breasts as the weight of yards of silk dragged it along her body until the gown pooled at her feet.

  Oxygen, needed, life-giving, was sucked silently from his body. The sight of her naked body—perfectly rounded breasts tipped by cotton candy-pink nipples, her gently rounded stomach, slender, curvy hips, and rounded thighs were like an oasis in a sensually dry desert.

  Between those perfect thighs—

  He dragged in air desperately.

  Between those prettily rounded thighs the curls had been removed, leaving silken, bare flesh that shimmered with a layer of sweet, feminine juices.

  The sight of the dew-rich flesh again had him willfully controlling his body’s response. The urgent need to fuck her, to pound inside her and claim her immediately, nearly overrode the contradictory need to worship her body, to kiss each inch and bind her to him so elementally that no part of her would ever be free of him.

  Just as he sensed the fact that he would never be free of her, either.

  “My God,” he said, his hands lifting, cupping the swollen mounds of her breasts as a whimper of need parted her lips. “Sweet, beautiful Anna.”

  She was trembling. Archer could feel the fine shudders shaking her body as his thumbs found the hardened little buds topping her breasts.

  “Perfect breasts,” he whispered. “So pretty, Anna. So damned pretty and sweet that all I want to do is devour them.”

  Her hands lifted, covered his.

  The sight of her hand on his, so small and pale against his much darker, much larger hand, was almost humbling.

  What the hell was he doing even considering this? She was so damn small against him, so delicate that, for a moment, he was terrified of breaking her.

  “What are you waiting on, then?” she asked, the edges of her lips turning up in a siren’s smile.

  A second later they parted in a surprised gasp at the feel of his fingers and thumbs gripping each distended point and applying just enough pressure to ensure her complete attention.

  He wanted every nerve ending, each sense, her entire being completely focused on him.

  On him, and all the pleasure he intended to ensure she received.

  *

  Staring up at him, Anna felt her heart racing impossibly fast.

  It pounded against her chest, each pulse of blood shuddering through her body as his gaze darkened further and dropped to her breasts.

  The calloused flesh of his palms massaged the undersides of her breasts, adding to the erotic sensations racing through her.

  “I’ve dreamed of this,” she said, hoping the weakness in her knees didn’t become worse.

  She could barely stand as it was.

  “Sweet Anna.” The odd tone of his voice had her holding back anything else she would have said.

  He sounded almost—regretful.

  “The things I want to do to you should be considered illegal,” he said, his voice low, dark. “Hell, it probably is illegal in several states.”

  “I wouldn’t protest.”

  She wanted his touch, needed his touch, as she needed nothing else in her life.

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  Her lashes lowered, threatening to close as his head moved down, his lips brushing against hers, teasing them as she fought to hold his gaze, to watch the shifting colors of his predatory eyes.

  “Well, I might not be into pain, if that’s your fetish,” she quipped with a spurt of amusement. “But, at your hands, I might be willing to try.”

  His lips quirked.

  She loved that little half smile, the way his eyes gleamed with hidden laughter and his expression seemed to soften marginally.

  “I promise not to hurt you,” he murmured as his lips moved along her jaw. “At least, no more than necessary.”

  Her soft laughter was cut off, the slow relaxation of her body stilled, and tension took over as his lips moved beneath her jaw.

  Sensation rushed through her nerve endings as Anna drew in a harsh breath. Caressing, gently nipping, his lips and teeth seemed to be making a delicate meal of her flesh, throwing her into a maelstrom of need with each touch.

  “Archer, it’s so good,” she moaned, unable to hold back the moan that filled her words. “Better than I dreamed.”

  And she’d had a damned good imagination when it came to dreaming of this with him.

  “It can get better, I promise.”

  His kisses moved down her neck, brushed across each breast. Before she had a chance to catch her breath or vocalize what she was aching for, those diabolically experienced lips found the tip of her breast.

  “Oh, yes,” she moaned as his lips played with her nipple, his tongue licking at it erotically as she watched, barely able to breathe for the excitement and pleasure shuddering through her. “I want more,” she all but demanded as her fingers slid into his hair and clenched in the strands. “Suck it, Archer. Please.”

  The tender bud was aching, throbbing to feel his lips and mouth surrounding it. The need to have the heated interior of his mouth drawing on the peak, sucking at it hungrily, had her begging for it.

  “This is going to tear both our lives apart,” he warned her, but his head was lowering, his lips hovering over her nipple as he spoke.

  “My life has already been torn apart, remember?” And at this moment, she didn’t even care. All she cared about was having his mouth surround her nipple, close on it, suck it, give her more of the pleasure tearing through her.

  Arching against him, her breath caught as the hard tip pressed against his lips and felt the damp, moist interior of his hot mouth.

  “Fuck!” The exclamation came a second before he gave her exactly what she was begging for.

  His lips surrounded her nipple. Wet heat pierced it and less than a second later he was suckling it like a man starved for the taste of a woman.

  Cupping the gently rounded flesh and pressing it closer to his lips, his teeth rasped it. Enclosing it once again with his lips, he drew on her nipple, his cheeks hollowing as male hunger filled the groan that rumbled in his chest.

  Sensation flared at the firm contact. A sizzle of electric pleasure that only built the hunger already burning inside her. Her breathing became harsh, heavy. Her hands tightened in his hair, her knee bending, lifting to his thigh to press herself closer to him.

  Suddenly the firm suckling stopped, and a second later his lips covered hers again. Fully. Without warning, he possessed her lips.

  If he had any indication of
her innocence, he gave no concessions to it. His lips parted hers with practiced ease, his tongue flicking against them, licking with sensual hunger as Anna gasped at the pleasure that tore across her nerve endings and began burning in the pit of her stomach.

  She felt eighteen again, desperate for that first kiss, seeing Archer’s face in her mind as the college boy she was kissing handled her with such rough inexperience that she’d wanted to kick him.

  She’d known he would never kiss like an inexperienced boy. He kissed like a grown male in his prime and hungry for a woman. His tongue swept against hers, tasted her as she tasted him.

  He’d been drinking coffee. The dark essence of the drink infused his kiss and wrapped around her senses as he kissed her with dominant demand.

  Lowering her to the mattress, his hard body coming over hers, her thighs parting further for the breadth of his hips, he settled against her, and she moaned in burning need.

  This was what she needed. She felt as though she had waited for it all her life. Waited for this kiss, this man, this touch. She needed it like the air she breathed. Needed it to the point that her entire body was beginning to ache for it.

  Anna found herself gasping for air as his lips moved to her jaw, his rough kisses moving over it as one hand slid up her thigh.

  The rasp of his calloused palm sent shivers of incredible sensation moving through her. Heat blazed across her clit and through her vagina to tighten her womb with clenching spasms. As his palm eased up the curve of her hip, then slid to her stomach, she held her breath, head tipping back as his lips moved to her neck.

  Stinging kisses were spread across the arched column as Archer’s hand stroked up her stomach before cupping the rounded curve of one swollen, touch-hungry breast again.

  Sensation lashed at her senses as Anna arched, desperate to press her flesh further into his hand, to feel him as close, as deep as possible. Raking his thumb over her nipple, his flesh rasping against the tip, dragged a cry from her. The need to be closer to him, to feel more, to experience more, was making her crazy.

  Heat radiated from her body, perspiration dampening her flesh as her breathing became more harsh, the moans harder to hold back as his kisses moved lower, his tongue licking against her collarbone. His lips licked the swollen curves of her breasts and the hard, distended tips of her nipples.

  Anna forced her lashes to remain raised, watching as the dark blond head lifted from her neck, his golden brown gaze, heavy-lidded and filled with lust, staring down at her. Watching her with so much heat that her pussy wept in need.

  His lips were as swollen as hers felt, his expression as dazed as she knew hers must be.

  “Don’t stop.” It was a plea, a demand.

  Aching, her hips lifted against his, stroking the swollen bud of her clit against the length of his cock. She could feel her orgasm moving closer, building to that point where she knew the pleasure would catapult her into sensations she had only heard others talk about until now.

  This would be nothing like the weak releases she’d found when she’d orgasmed in the past.

  “Do you know what you’re doing to me, Anna?” he groaned, his expression filled with torment as his eyes flicked to the hard tips of her breasts. “What this could do to both of us?”

  “What could it do to us?” she demanded, frustration tearing through her now. “Will the world end, Archer? What catastrophe could rip through Sweetrock if we have sex?”

  If he made love to her?

  If he risked opening just a small, very small, undefended part of his heart and gave her a chance to slip inside?

  “God, you amaze me.” For the briefest moment, amusement glittered in his gaze before his eyes dropped to her breasts once again. “But catastrophe could definitely happen,” he breathed roughly. “God help us both, Anna, I’ll be damned but I think it would be worth it.”

  “Then stop talking and start sexing,” she suggested breathlessly as his head lowered, turning just enough to allow the rasp of his cheek to brush against the soft mound of a breast.

  “Stop teasing me, Archer.” Her pussy was on fire, her breasts swollen and aching.

  If he didn’t take her soon, if he didn’t fuck her soon, she was going to go insane from the need.

  Archer felt as though he had fought this attraction to her for his entire life. Definitely for the past six years. He’d been fighting since the day she turned eighteen and he’d recognized the beautiful woman she was turning into.

  Beautiful, graceful.

  She was headstrong and determined, for sure. They had always been two of her most challenging qualities. It wasn’t a childish stubbornness, though. It was that of a woman who knew what she wanted and what she was determined to have.

  And what she wanted was in direct opposition to what her family wanted from her, and for her.

  Easing into a kneeling position his knee slid between hers, parting her legs, opening her to him as he gripped the hard shaft of his dick and prepared to lean into her. Below, a heavy sheen of juices coated her swollen pussy lips, drew him, made him hungry to taste her, to fuck her.

  He paused, because for a moment he couldn’t decide which he needed worse. The taste of her against his tongue, or the feel of his cock burrowing inside her.

  As he paused, Anna moved.

  Sitting up, her fingers curling around the width of his cock, she leaned over him, covering the engorged head for the second time that night. Her hot little mouth engulfed him with pleasure.

  Archer stilled, his body tightening as the heat of her mouth sucked him in and worked the head of his cock like a favorite treat. A delicate hand settled at his hip and gripped it firmly. A harsh groan tore from his lips as she sucked him deep, the back of her throat suddenly caressing the violently sensitive crown as she moaned with her own pleasure.

  Innocence filled the touch, but also hunger and an awareness of what she was doing. Her short, neat little nails bit into the flesh of his hip as her tongue rubbed against the underside, stroking nerve endings so close to the skin that every muscle in his body tightened in response. The other hand stroked from the base of his dick to her suckling lips and back again. She was making him crazy with pleasure and he loved it.

  She was a virgin. Archer had known for years that she didn’t have other lovers. John Corbin had told him several times how closely he had his granddaughter watched, and how proud he was that promiscuity wasn’t a path she had chosen.

  Why did he have her watched? That question had often plagued him.

  That question flitted through his mind before her suckling mouth wiped it away.

  He couldn’t keep himself from looking down, just as he had earlier. Watching as she took him with an intimacy other women with a hell of a lot more experience didn’t enjoy nearly as well as Anna was enjoying him now.

  Pulling back, her lips swollen and red, her slender fingers pumped the hard, wide shaft, and he nearly lost that last hold on his ability to hold back his release.

  The engorged crest was flushed dark and throbbing in lust as moisture sheened it. The narrow slit at the tip beaded with a creamy drop of pre-come.

  Archer watched. His heart nearly stopped as her soft pink tongue emerged to swipe over the bead of lust. She tasted him with an intimate hunger that burned through his senses and sent chaotic shudders of pleasure racing up his spine.

  A snarl snapped past his lips as pleasure overcame his reserve. The fingers of one hand buried in her hair. They tightened in the strands as her tongue caressed the violently sensitive flesh of his cock head once again and he growled with the heightened sensation.

  “Ah, hell. Yes, Anna. Suck it like that, baby. Suck my dick just like that.”

  How often had he fantasized about this? With his fingers fisted around his shaft, stroking it as he brought just this sight to his imagination. Eyes closed, he’d imagined her lush little mouth moving over the engorged flesh. He’d pictured her lips stretching over the broad tip, her tongue lashing at the ultrasens
itive spot just beneath the hooded crest.

  “Fuck, that’s good.” He couldn’t stop watching her lips move on the head of his cock. “Ah, yes, baby. That’s so damn good.”

  She was doing far more than he’d ever imagined, and giving him far more pleasure.

  Moving up and down on the engorged head, sucking and stroking with lips, tongue, and her suckling mouth, she took him like a woman starved for the taste of a man.

  The innocence in her expression as she glanced up at him was at odds with her confidence and the pure hunger blazing in the dark green depths of her eyes.

  Her innocence didn’t stop her now, though, any more than it had earlier. His stomach tightened as she slid one hand between his thighs to cup his balls, her fingers rolling them gently, firmly.

  Destroying him with pleasure.

  There was no going back.

  There was no saving her innocence, his conscience, or the consequences he could sense would rise from this night to bite him on the ass.

  Brushing her hand aside he gripped the base of his dick. He pulled free of the exquisite heat of her mouth, then angled it to her lips once again. Rubbing the wide crest against the swollen curves of her lips, his teeth clenched as a moan slipped past them. Her gaze darkened further, and as he watched pure emotion fill them, Archer swore he could feel something inside his soul reaching out to her.

  Emotion threatened to ambush him, threatened to break free despite his determination to hold it back. Lust. This was lust. It was about hunger. It was about physical need and pleasure.

  A pleasure she was sharing with him.

  The sound of her pleasure in him caused his balls to tighten in spiraling lust. His need for her was moving through him. Slamming into his senses, tempting him to take over, to take her.

  It was all he could do to hold back the powerful dominance that was so much a part of him.

  And he had no idea why he was holding it back.

  He was already a dead man. He might as well enjoy every second of the lovely, sensual creature sitting before him, her tongue peeking out to lash at the head of his cock.

  Yeah, he was a fucking dead man and this was his last meal. A lovely, delicate, sensual little feast, and he intended to enjoy every second of pleasure he found in her.