Until Now by Naomi Speakman

Author:Naomi Speakman [Speakman, Naomi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-22T16:00:00+00:00

I didn’t hear Archer sneak away last night, but the light snick of the door as it closes jerks me awake.

My eyes adjust enough to see him lean against the door.

‘I didn’t mean to wake you,’ he says gruffly. His eyes are red-rimmed, with deep, dark circles beneath them. Even his movements are sluggish as he rubs his hands over his face.

He still wears the black T-shirt from last night and the denim jeans. I don’t need to ask where he’s been; I already know, but I don’t want to think about that. The reality of his life.

I’m trying out this new method where, if I ignore my problems long enough, I hope they’ll just go away themselves.

I groan as I reach my arms above my head and stretch out, hearing the click of my stiff joints. Archer’s eyes darken as they land on where the duvet has ridden up to expose my bare hip.

Oh. Shit.

I swallow, noting the heat in his gaze. The space between us becomes charged, a string pulled taut, but all I say is, ‘I should go home.’ I silently curse the tremble in my voice.

‘You should.’ But he moves towards me—prowls, more like. As if he knows exactly what that slow precision does to me. The longing, the teasing, the promise of dark, terrible things.

The apex of my thighs throb. He watches me with that predatory intent as he toes off his boots, as he draws his shirt over his head, deliberately straining the muscles in his arms. His fingers move for his jeans, and the pop of the button as he undoes them is loud enough to make my toes curl.

But despite my body wanting him, needing him, my mind still lingers in that bathtub. I’m still drowning, drowning, drowning—

He slides beneath the covers, and his hard cock pulses against my arse. His arm wraps my waist, no longer soothing and comforting as it was last night, but driven by desire. Want. The cold tip of his nose makes me flinch as he presses it against my neck and breathes me in, as his other hand snakes beneath me to cup my breast. His fingers delve lower, tracing taunting patterns across my stomach, lower still, whispering over my hip and trailing back up my thigh, and then—

His finger grazes me, a gentle, wicked touch.

My voice is hoarse. ‘Archer, I don’t want to—‘

‘Really, love?’ His grin is cruel and sharp against my skin. ‘Because you’re dripping.’

He smells like Joop and star-kissed skies and sweat and fuck I want every inch of him pressed against me, but I shake my head. ‘I don’t—‘ I start to say, but my words turn to a gasp when he plunges a finger inside me.

Archer groans, but his voice is soft when he says, ‘What were you saying?’

He pulls his finger out, adds another, and pushes them in, and every thought empties from my mind. What had I been about to say? His fingers still for a moment, and I

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