Page 75 of Unlocked

God, he was hard, and the press of his erection into his zipper was just short of painful. But that didn’t stop him from rutting harder against her. He found her clit with the tip of his middle finger.

“God yes!” she breathed, lifting her hips to create better accessibility. “Jesus, that feels so amazing.”

“You’re amazing. So wet, so hot,” he muttered against her collarbone. He used his chin to push her tank top lower, then bent his head and took her nipple between his teeth. He bit tenderly and sucked until she was trembling in his arms.

He trailed his finger lower along her seam, finding the entrance he sought while moving his forefinger to her clit. He worked the tiny nub while plunging his middle finger inside her tight sheath.

He stopped when she pressed on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, except we have too many clothes on. Take my pants off, Archer. Show me your hands are as clever as I think they might be.

“If we do that, we stop there. Just my fingers and my mouth. Until the doctor says you are one-hundred percent.”

“Archer, that part of me isn’t hurt. Just my head.”

He thrusted his finger deeper inside her. “No argument. Nothing more than this, understood?” He started to withdraw.

She gripped his wrist, stopping his retreat. “Fine. But I want you to remember that my mouth isn’t injured either. Just saying…”

“Damn, Tatum. Way to slay me.” He pushed inside her again, but climbed to his knees and used his other hand to coax the thin cotton material over her hips as he continued to pump rhythmically into her.

She helped him shove her pants and silky panties over her hips, and down, then yanked one foot free of the fabric, not bothering to remove it from her other leg. She put her heel on his shoulder and lifted her head enough to watch his finger disappear inside her.

“Oh, that’s nice.” She licked her lips, then dropped her head back to the pillow.

Archer bent over her, lifted the foot on his shoulder to drape over his back. He pressed kisses to her belly and continued downward until her clit was between his teeth, her hips lifted to his mouth.

God, she smelled like heaven and tasted musky, sweet, a bit salty. Her thighs were trembling as he increased the pace. She was close. He knew because of the way her body tightened, the way her breath accelerated.

He continued to lick and nip her clit, but turned his hand so that he stroked the upper side of her sheath, hitting a spot that had her crying out his name and clutching his close-cropped hair.

“I’m… oh god, Archer. I’m coming,” she announced in a squeaky high voice that ended in an animal-like cry.

While she shuddered in his grasp, her sweet juices coated his hand. He was quick to lick it up as he continued to tickle her G-spot, coaxing more from her. She sobbed a breath in and collapsed onto the mattress.

He licked her clit, then laved his tongue along her seam as he finally pulled his hand free of her body. He hummed as he savored the sweet, salty essence.

He climbed up her body, sliding between her legs to kiss her sternum and higher, until their lips were sealed together and his body quit humming for attention. He wouldn’t allow them to go any further tonight. It was enough that she was satisfied.

He’d wait, and it would be worth it. But he’d given her what she needed for now. There’d be time for them.

At least, he prayed there would.

He left the bed long enough to strip off his clothes, down to his boxer briefs, then lay down next to her, pleased to find her breath had steadied and body had remained lax. He drew a throw from the bottom of the bed up and over their bodies before pulling her close.

She settled against his chest, her body fitting along his with an ease that felt like it had always been there. He should be thinking about the case. About the Curator. About whoever had tried to take her today. But right now, with Tatum in his arms, he couldn't bring himself to care about any of it. Right now, she was safe.

And for the first time in longer than he could remember, so was he.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Tatum stared at the ceiling.

She'd woken when the door closed behind Archer. Thin light leaked through the drapes on her windows, telling her it was early still. He'd snuck out without saying anything.

Asshole.

But that wasn't fair. She didn't blame him. Last night was a mistake. It felt right, felt good, but in the end, it was a mistake. She and Archer couldn't exist together. He was hard, cold, and analytical. She was not, at least not all the time. Work was one thing, this was something else, something that required more than analytics. She blew out a breath. It was just a momentary weakness after yesterday’s events. Was physical release normal after an attempted kidnapping? A port in the storm?