"When I get lose, I'm going to hurt you," she told him. "How'd you like to have a clove of garlic shoved up your..."
"Oooh, you are pissed." Something rattled. "I hate to disappoint you, but the garlic thing's a myth" A wicked purr entered his voice. "But if you'd like to experiment, I could get some and see how you like it."
"That's not what I had in mind at all."
"May I remind you, you're the one who's tied up. It doesn't much matter what you've got in mind."
Dana felt her irritation drain at the note of velvet threat in his tone. The bed shifted under her, the mattress dipping as though he'd sat down beside her.
Now, she thought. Now he'd touch her.
Something brushed her skin, then retreated. His fingertips?
There it was again, dancing over the tip of her right nipple, faint and delicious. Not a finger.
Something thin. Several somethings. Filaments gliding over the sensitive skin of her breasts, swirling
circles, tracing the full lower curves. Dana couldn't help squirming as she stared into the darkness of the blindfold and wondered what he was using to inflict those delicately erotic sensations.
"I love to watch a woman writhe," Archer said, his voice silken and deep. "Especially when she's bound."
Now the thing was dancing between her legs, tickling the sensitive skin of her thighs, drawing ghostly patterns of delight. "What is that?" she gasped. "What are you..."
Warm, strong fingers touched her most sensitive flesh, parting the delicate lips of her sex and spreading them, then holding them that way for the filaments' tender dance. Dana gasped at the fairy-like sensations playing over her wet lips, only to zero in on her erect clit, circling and brushing it. Unable to stop herself, she began to roll her hips, not even knowing whether she was trying to elude the sensation or get more.
"No, darlin'," Archer murmured. She felt his warm weight settle across her hips, pinning her down. He must be draped over her on his side, Dana thought, a little dazed.
The filaments continued their play, but now she felt a hot puff of air as well, gusting over her clit. He was blowing on her sex, she realized. The idea of his head so close to her hungry core made her grow even wetter.
His tongue slipped down, flicked over her button. Dana moaned, waiting for more of his delicious mouth.
Instead he rolled off her.
"No!" she whimpered. "Archer, don't stop!"
"Patience, darlin'." There was a rumble of laughter in his voice. "One of these days I'm going to tie you down and torture you," Dana growled. "We'll see how patient you are."
"Promises, promises." Something rattled. She thought she heard his bare feet padding on the floor. Then the mattress shifted, moved. Something rattled again.
He was crawling up between her legs, she thought in growing excitement. Something warm pressed against the inside of both thighs that she recognized as his shoulders.
Rattle.
For a long moment he didn't move as she waited breathlessly for him to begin feasting on her sex. Dana could feel the cream flooding her core in heady anticipation.
Then his mouth was there at last, sucking her clit, hot and wet and setting off a firestorm of burning pleasure. Dana cried out as he drew strongly on the tiny bud, the feelings so intense she could hardly bear them.
Maddened, she rolled her hips. One of his arms clamped across them to pin her down. Another rattle, just before he took his skillful mouth away from her sex. As she was about to groan a protest, she felt the brush of his fingers at her opening.
Cold!
Dana yelled and convulsed as she felt him slide the ice cube up her heated, creamy core, but he held her pinned. Then her clit was in his mouth again, and his free hand was rolling and pinching one nipple. She squirmed and writhed, cursing breathlessly as the ice melted inside her hot sex, the chill warring with the sensation of his wet, clever mouth on her bud, the skilled fingers tormenting her breast.
The orgasm hit her out of nowhere, rolling over her like a train as he suckled her ruthlessly. Dana screamed, unable to bear the raw, brutal pleasure.
Suddenly he was on top of her, his gloriously naked body pressing into hers, touching her everywhere. A hand snatched the blindfold away.
She blinked as Archer reared over her, his fangs bared, taking his big cock in one hand and aiming it for her core. Archer shoved it deep, sucking in a breath as he felt the chill.
"That's what you get for putting ice up my..." she gasped.
"I'll melt it," he growled, and began to drive, fucking her hard and ruthlessly, his thick organ shuttling in and out with such strength she could only twist and moan in her bonds.
The sterling silver ice bucket tilted against her hip, but before it could fall and dump ice on them both, he stopped long enough to grab it up and put it down on the floor. Dana spotted a long ostrich feather curling among the sheets and realized what he'd first used to pleasure her with.
Then he was shafting her again, and she didn't care about anything else except that massive satin cock and the ecstasy it drove into her with each merciless stroke.
Another orgasm swamped her, and she threw her head back in pleasure. She saw his eyes lock on the column of her throat. Deliberately, Dana held the arch, offering herself as he lowered his handsome head. The sting of his fangs pressing deep kicked her climax even higher. He drove to the hilt and stiffened, his cry muffled against her throat.
As the last aftershocks of her climax shuddered through her, she collapsed into the mattress. His big hands stroked her, gentling and soothing as he fed.
Finally Archer drew away.
Dana blinked up at him, a little dizzy, a lot satisfied. "That was... amazing," she sighed.
He stroked tender knuckles over her cheek. "You're pretty amazing yourself. Which must be why I love you."
She felt a goofy smile spread over her face. "I love you too. You want to untie me now?"
Archer's smile took on a wicked cant as his long fingers found her nipple. "I don't think so. I'm nowhere near done yet." And he started again.
Epilogue
Dana stumbled into the hotel room, staggered to the bed, and fell across it. Archer sauntered in after her, looking, she thought resentfully, disgustingly fresh for a man who'd just spent the last month posing as a terrorist.
"You did good today, darlin'," he told her, pulling his gun out of his shoulder holster. "I was proud of you. Even Fitz thought you handled yourself well."
"It's about time. That man has made my life hell for a solid year." Dana gave him a narrow look. "Come to think of it, so did you."
Archer shrugged as he unloaded the nine millimeter Smith and Wesson. "We had to make sure you were well-trained. And you are. You took down those three mob guys like a pro."
"The look on Galleni's face when I bent that gun barrel..." She laughed, savoring the memory. "I wish I had a picture."
"We probably do. I'll ask." He unbuckled his shoulder holster and shrugged out of it.
Watching the flex of his powerful chest, Dana felt a familiar wash of heat. She rolled to her feet and began to stalk him.
He looked up as she slid nearer and smiled. "Why, Mrs. Archer—whatever do you have in mind?"
Dana grinned, exposing the fangs she'd finally gotten used to. "Just thought we could celebrate the successful closing of my first case." Reaching to the belt of her black combat fatigues, she whipped out a pair of silver bracelets and dangled them from a thumb. "In fact, let's break in my new handcuffs."
With a wicked laugh, Archer reached for them. "I do like the way your mind works, wife."
"Then try this." She grabbed his shoulder and spun him back around. "Up against the wall and spread `em! I need to practice my strip search."
His rich laughter rolled as he obeyed.
The End.
A Candidate For The Kiss Page 9