Secret Sins (42 page)

The firm, swollen flesh fit his palm perfectly. The pebble hardness of her nipple
beneath his thumb, the responsive arch of her body to his caress, held no deception
or hint of ulterior motives.

She was completely lost in the pleasure. So lost in the sensations whipping through
her body that she dragged him deeper into his own pleasure as well.

Sensation rose like a blazing sun burning in the pit of her belly and sending heat
radiating through her pussy.

Anna arched into his touch, whimpered with the lash of pleasure and the rising clash
of sensations that were impossible to keep up with.

It seemed every cell of her body ached for his caress. She craved his kiss. Her nipples
throbbed, swollen tight, ultra-sensitive nerve endings eager for even the slightest
touch to send burning arcs of sensation striking at her clitoris, at the clenched
muscles of her vagina.

Flattening his palm at her knee, Archer stroked slowly up the inside of her thigh,
parting her legs further. Bending one knee, her foot pressing into the thick pad beneath
them, Anna lifted herself closer to his touch.

Her hips lifted in anticipation as his palm stroked like a tease, a taunt of what
was to come. Flat, short nails scraped against the sensitive flesh of her thigh but
refused to come closer to the aching center of her body.

The rasp of his nails had sensation prickling beneath her skin, racing along nerve
endings to strike at her clit as she jerked closer to his touch.

“You’re teasing me,” she panted, her neck arching as his kisses returned to it.

“I’m enjoying you,” he growled. “God, I don’t think I can get enough of you.”

She didn’t want him to get enough of her. She never wanted him to stop aching for
her because she was afraid she would never stop aching for him.

“I need more, Archer.” She didn’t think she could be held on this edge, as violently
sharp as it was, much longer.

“How much more, baby?” His lips moved from her neck to her nipples.

Suckling a tight peak into his mouth, his teeth rasped it, drawing a short, sharp
cry from her lips. Gripping it between his teeth, his tongue rubbed against it until
it felt as though her orgasm was only a heartbeat away.

The tender tips were so sensitive now, so incredibly hard that the pleasure bordered
ecstasy and the pain bordered agony until they merged to create a clash of such intensity
she didn’t know if she could bear it.

She felt suspended, poised on an edge of ecstasy so sharp it was all she could do
to breathe.

“Archer, fuck me,” she moaned, her back arching as his lips moved lower. “Please,
you’re killing me.”

Sliding his fingers to the wet folds of her pussy, he parted the intimate lips slowly.
There, with only the tips of his fingers, he rubbed against the clenched entrance
to the sensitive inner flesh.

Arching closer, a strangled moan falling from her lips, Anna tried to force his fingers
inside her, to find the release that tortured her.

“Archer, it’s so close,” she gasped, her nails biting into his shoulders. “So close.
Please. Please let me come.”

Her nails raked across his shoulders as he moved closer. The wide, engorged head of
his cock slid through the heavy, slick moisture. Parting the hot, wet folds he angled
his hips to press the wide head against the weeping entrance to her pussy.

“Oh yes,” she moaned, the pinch of the incredibly tight fit beginning to bloom at
the narrow slit as he began to push against it.

Heated, stretching, the impalement was pleasure and pain. The pinching heat speared
through her as Archer worked his cock inside her.

The hardened flesh parted the sensitive muscles with short, strong thrusts of his
hips. Working the wide, hot crest inside her, inch by slow inch, he pushed the pleasure
higher, pushed her closer to an edge she’d never suspected could exist.

“Archer.” Her low, desperate moan filled the air as ecstasy began to fill her. “Oh
God, it’s so good. It feels so good.”

It was better than good. It was a rising wave of sensation swirling through her with
burning sensation and rising rapture.

Deep, sharp, the aching need for release rushed through each erogenous zone and stroked
over each nerve ending as his cock shuttled inside her, pushing into the clenched,
snug tissue milking his engorged erection.

Each thrust stroked against painfully sensitive nerve endings. It rasped over them,
igniting flames of such fiery intensity that Anna felt as though she were melting
around him.

Each fierce penetration, each hard thrust rasped over areas so sensitive, nerve endings
so burningly alive that each stroke sent ecstasy slamming through her.

Her body tightened, every muscle straining, aching, as she reached for release.

“Look at me, Anna.” The harsh male groan had her lashes lifting, her gaze meeting
the fierce glow of lust in his eyes.

One hand gripped her thigh as his hips thrust and rolled, stroking inside her harder,
faster.

“Let me see you, baby,” he demanded. “Let me watch you come, Anna.”

Anna felt the last restraint holding her to earth shatter. With her gaze locked to
his, his hands gripped her wrists, pulling them from his shoulders and lacing his
fingers with hers as he pressed them to the pad above her head.

Entwined with hers, his fingers tightened, holding her to earth as his hips moved
harder, faster, thrusting desperately inside her. Anna felt the cataclysm erupt within.
Exploding, blazing, shattering through her system with a rapture that stole her breath
and sent her flying through ecstasy.

Archer’s lips came over hers as his release rushed through him as well. His tongue
tangled with hers, his cock burying deep as she felt his release spurting inside her,
filling her with the hard, heated jets.

Crying out into his kiss, her fingers tightening with his, Anna shuddered, her body
trembling, jerking against his. With each spasm of her pussy around his cock, each
heavy, milking clench of her inner muscles, a surge of rapture raced through her again.
Again.

Archer lost himself in the release he shared with Anna. The power of his orgasm rushing
through him, through her, over them, was a pleasure he knew he had never experienced
before. It was a pleasure he knew he would never have with any woman but Anna.

He had fallen into the trap he had sworn he’d never allow himself to fall into. That
trap where pleasure and emotion combined to lock a man’s soul to a woman’s and leave
him lost at the thought of ever being without her.

He’d fallen through the rabbit hole and he was very, very afraid he was in danger
of the illusion taking control of him.

Archer was beginning to believe he might have found the fairy tale.

CHAPTER 26

It was time to pack for good.

Anna realized that this time she had accepted the fact that she wouldn’t be coming
back, because this time she remembered to pack her toiletries from the bathroom.

Packing her toiletries, Anna was zipping the bag when the bedroom door opened.

“Anna, I thought we were out of the grilling steaks? I know I laid out the last two
the other night—”

Anna lifted her head and watched as Archer came to a full, hard stop.

His gaze went to the luggage.

Straightening, she stared back at him, her heart breaking as she watched his fierce,
predatory gaze flicker between her and the bags several times before he reached back
and slammed the door closed.

She flinched, her heart jumping and racing furiously in her chest.

She had never seen such a look on his face before now. She had never seen that look
on
anyone’s
face before now.

“What are you doing?” There wasn’t so much as a hint of emotion on his face, but his
eyes
 …
there was so much rage in his eyes that Anna couldn’t have kept up if she’d had an
emotional dictionary.

“We know who’s behind it now,” she stated calmly. “I know what both Wayne Sorenson
and Amory Wyatt look like. They can’t catch me unaware again.”

“And just where do you think you’re going to go?” He advanced into the bedroom by
only a few feet before coming to a stop.

“For the next few nights I’ll stay at the hotel in town,” she answered with a shrug,
wishing she could take her eyes off him. Wishing she could take her heart back from
him. “Momma wanted me to come back to the ranch, but
…
” She shrugged. She couldn’t. Not yet.

“I’ll be fine, Archer,” she promised, turning away from him and pretending to make
certain she hadn’t forgotten anything. “You’re not responsible for me any longer.”

“Is that what you think?”

The slow, furious drawl of the question should have warned her. She should have known
the second that tone snapped across her senses to beware.

She was a second too late in turning, not that she could have avoided him, no matter
how fast she moved.

One hand gripped her arm, the other went around her back as he pulled her the rest
of the way around.

Locked to the length of his hard, aroused body—he hadn’t been aroused before—there
was no pushing away from him.

“Why are you doing this?” She pushed against his chest, despite the fact that she
knew there was no breaking free.

“You think I’m going to just let you walk out?”

“Why not?” Glaring back at him, fighting to keep from melting against him, Anna pushed
her fists against his chest as she tried to angle her hips away from the length of
his erection.

“Why should I?” he questioned her instead, his lips lowering to part, his strong teeth
nipping at the lobe of her ear.

She shouldn’t respond so easily to him.

Biting her lip, Anna had to fight to keep from tilting her head to the side and giving
him full access to her neck as she felt the whisper of a kiss against the sensitive
flesh.

“You should—” Lashes fluttering as sensual weakness flooded her body, she had to fight
to remember why. “You should, Archer, because I’m weak.” Bitterness returned with
a rush, but it didn’t dissipate the need for his touch.

Stilling against her, his lips against her neck, one hand pressed against the small
of her back, the other a scant breath beneath her breasts.

“Anna,” he protested softly. “Why do you think you have to leave?”

Pressing her forehead against his chest, Anna felt tears filling her eyes again.

“Why leave me, Anna?” he asked.

“Why doesn’t matter, Archer.” Her voice sounded as hoarse, as aching as her soul did.

How was she supposed to fight this need for him? The hunger that raged through her
and had no intentions of abating?

“Why always matters, Anna.” Lifting his head, Archer stared down at her, his gaze
still raging but his expression not hard or unemotional any longer.

Savage, fierce.

Possessive.

The dark emotions brewing in his gaze were reflected on his face as hands tightened
at her hips.

Shaking her head, she fought the need to respond to that look, to give into the demands,
the dominating strength of his body and the hunger that only burned hotter in his
gaze.

“I’m weak, Archer,” she reminded him bitterly. “Too weak to be able to give you what
you need.”

“Like hell.” Stark, echoing with denial and rich with possessive intent, Archer lifted
her, turning and pressing her against the bedroom wall. “The last thing you are is
weak.”

A shift of his hips and, before Anna could stop him, he had her thighs spread, her
knees gripping his hips. The full length of his cock notched between her thighs, pressing
hard and hot into the mound of her pussy through the cotton panties she wore.

The full skirt she wore fell back, pooling between their bodies as he held her with
one hand and dragged the hem of her sleeveless blouse from the band of her skirt.

Before Anna could do more than attempt to lower her arms, Archer gripped them in one
hand, dragged the shirt up and over her breasts, her head, jerking it over her arms.

A second later her wrists were free and the shirt was gone, leaving her breasts covered
by nothing more than her flesh-colored bra.

That did nothing to hide the hardness of her nipples though. They pressed against
the lace of her bra as the swollen flesh of her breasts rose over the half cups.

“Why are you doing this?” Anna slapped at his hands as he released the catch between
her breasts and quickly got rid of the bra.

“You’re not leaving me,” he growled, his hands cupping her breasts, his fingers finding
the hard tips of her nipples and applying just enough pressure that she stopped fighting
and stilled with a sharp moan of surprised pleasure.

“And you can’t make me stay,” she cried out. “I won’t stay, Archer, and you can’t
keep me in a damned bed twenty-four hours a day.”

“The hell I can’t.”

His lips covered her, his tongue pressing against the lush curves of hers, pressing,
easing past them until he owned the kiss he had taken. With his lips and tongue, the
heat of the hunger that swirled between them, he stole her objection and her will
to object.

She could have him, this one last time.

Her arms went around his neck, fingers spearing into his hair.

She could love him this one last time.

A moan pushed past their kiss as his hands stroked and massaged her breasts, his thumb
and forefingers pressing and rolling the tender tips of her nipples until flames were
shooting in a path straight to the swollen, heated bud of her clitoris.

As his lips left hers to blaze a path of pleasure down her neck to the sensitive curves
of her breasts, heat trailed in their wake.

Her nipples throbbed. His lips moved closer, the threat of their firm pressure, the
fiery dampness of his mouth and the wicked strokes of his tongue had them pulsing,
throbbing in anticipation.

When it came, a whimpering cry filled the air.