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Donovans 03 - Pearl Cove

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with her mouth. Len had rarely allowed this kind of sensual freedom, and never after sex, but Archer wasn’t pushing away from her. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying it. She liked that as much as she liked having him stay deep inside her.
    Eyes closed, smiling, Archer enjoyed Hannah’s caressing hands and nuzzling kisses, her tongue tasting first his beard, then his neck, then the tender skin behind his ear. When she nibbled around his ear and explored the center with her tongue, heat flickered over his skin like lightning.
    “You keep that up and you’re going to wish you weren’t on the bottom,” he said.
    Her answer was a low, questioning sound, because she was too fascinated by the contours of his ear to bother shaping words. Then she felt his hips clench. Suddenly he was locked hard against her, moving in short, powerful jerks that made her limp with a shocking pleasure. But nothing was as shocking as feeling him stretching her again, as though it had been weeks since his last climax.
    “Archer?”
    “Hang on.” He rolled over onto his back, taking her with him, shifting her until she lay on top of him, thigh to thigh, chest to breasts. When the tile hit his back, he grunted, but it wasn’t his bruises that bothered him most. “You should have told me.”
    “What?”
    “How cold the tile was.”
    “I didn’t notice.”
    “The least you can do is return the favor.”
    Reluctantly Hannah started to get up. Big hands held her where she was, pinned against him, still deliciously impaled on him. She gave him a questioning look.
    “Make me forget about the tile, Hannah.”
    She didn’t understand until she looked at his eyes. And then she could hardly believe it. The intensity of his hunger made her whole body tighten with pleasure, stroking him where he lay buried within her.
    “That’s a good start,” he said, his voice raspy.
    He shifted his feet until they were between her ankles. Slowly he opened his legs inside hers, stretching her wide. Her eyes came fully open in startled pleasure. He was hard against the violently sensitive knot of her clitoris. The more he pushed apart her legs, the more pleasure licked through her, and the more need gnawed at her. She moved as much as she could against him, inching her hips back and forth until she shivered against him, around him.
    It wasn’t enough. She could tease both of them to the edge of release, but no more. Trapped on a sensual rack, she writhed slowly, seeking release and at the same time luxuriating in a ravishing kind of pleasure. She knew nothing about making love like this, about need that grew and grew and grew, climax leading to climax and yet nothing was enough, never enough, until she was shaking, whimpering, struggling against and with him, crying and wild.
    And then she was free, grinding against him as wave after wave of pleasure slammed into her. She would have screamed if she could have, but all she could do was arch her back and give herself to the endless, wrenching ecstasy.
    Archer watched through burning gray-green eyes, moving just enough to drive her higher, rubbing against the sleek, hot pearl of her pleasure until she was abandoned, crying, utterly surrendered to him and wholly victorious at the same time, driving him as surely as he drove her, taking him to the same shattering completion she knew, holding him there, burning, pulsing, drowning him in ecstasy.
    It was a long, long time before either of them noticed the tile floor again.

Twelve
    T he bathroom was still steamy from their shared shower. So was Hannah. The fact that Archer had been obviously ready for sex again by the time he left the shower hadn’t helped to cool her off. Wistfully she toweled herself dry and watched the closed bathroom door. She hadn’t expected him to want her again. Not so soon. That he did both surprised and aroused her.
    He might be as ruthless as Len, but Archer was certainly different when it came to sex. She liked that difference. A lot. Knowing that he wanted her even before the sweat dried from the last time made her light-headed with too many emotions to name, even if she had wanted to.
    She didn’t. The shimmering sexuality she had discovered within Archer—and herself—was more than enough for her to cope with at the moment.
    “No wonder Coco can’t wait to get past a man’s fly,” Hannah muttered, wrapping the towel around herself.
    “What?” Archer asked from beyond the door.
    Even as she flushed, she smiled a

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