KATE: MADISON KATE #4

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KATE: MADISON KATE #4 Page 12

by James Tate


  Also, yeah, sure, I enjoyed seeing that flare of anger that it sparked in Archer's eyes. It was addictive as all hell.

  "None of those things hold any weight in this argument, Kate," he snapped back. "Not for long. The killers, the stalker? They're temporary. The shit with your dad? You'll get your closure when he returns to Shadow Grove. The diamond mine? Fuck it. Give it away for all I care, we don't need it."

  My jaw just about hit the floor. I couldn't actually believe what I was hearing from him.

  "Archer," I snarled. "I'm nineteen. I'm not even having this conversation right now."

  He gave a shrug that made me want to deck him. "You turn twenty soon-ish."

  "I just turned nineteen!" I shrieked. "What the actual fuck is happening right now? Jesus Christ Archer, we're not having kids. Period."

  His jaw clenched, and the vein over his temple throbbed. Oh good, I'd flipped his alpha male asshole switch on.

  "Kate—" he argued, but I wasn't entertaining any more crazy.

  "No!" I shouted, slamming my hand down on the counter beside me. "No. Archer this isn't even just about you and me. Did you forget that Steele and Kody are in this too? They're not fucking going anywhere."

  His face shifted, and I realized too late that I'd given him a flicker of hope. "So, you're saying this is a question of majority rules?"

  I blinked, dumbfounded at his shift in tact. "What? No! Arch—" I broke off with a frustrated snarl. Then I did the only thing I could think of to end the totally ludicrous argument we were engaged in.

  I picked up one of the mini wedding cakes and smashed it straight in his sexy, stubborn face.

  14

  Sometimes in life, we’ve all made choices that might have seemed really stupid, really reckless in hindsight. Sometimes, those choices worked out impeccably well, and the result was better than we could have ever anticipated.

  Sometimes... it didn't.

  This thought flashed across my mind as Archer stared back at me from a strawberry-champagne-sponge and cream-cheese-frosting covered mess.

  The serving plate slipped from my fingers and shattered on the floor, but neither one of us paid it any mind. Archer reached up in goddamn slow motion to wipe the creamy frosting from his eyes, all so he could death-glare at me even harder.

  "Oops," I whispered.

  He swiped another handful of cake from his face and threw it on the ground. "Oops?" he repeated in disbelief.

  Yeah, maybe that hadn't been the most mature way to end an argument. But hey, that just proved my point, right? There was no way in hell I was mother material.

  Fuck it, the damage was done now; may as well just double down on it. "Oh, don't be dramatic, Sunshine," I drawled, propping my hands on my hips. "It's just cake; it won't kill you."

  He moved lightning fast. One second he was standing two feet away, dripping frosting—damn, that cake had a lot of frosting—and the next he had my hair wrapped around his fist and a plate of cake in his hand.

  "No!" I shrieked. "Come on, Arch, I'm sorry, okay? That was childish. I shouldn't have smooshed cake on your face."

  His brows rose. Or, I think they did. He was still pretty coated in cake, so it was hard to get a real reading on his expression.

  "Oh, you're sorry, huh?" His tone was so hard to read without those subtle facial cues I often relied on. Like the way a small dimple appeared when he was fighting a smile or the way his temple throbbed when he was feeling murderous.

  "Yes!" I squeaked, my eyes on the cake in his hand. I really didn't want to wear that one. It was my least favorite of all the flavors Maurice had prepared. "Yes, I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

  His grip tightened on my hair, pulling it hard enough to tilt my face up to his. It was such a turn on, even with the threat of cake.

  "If you're so sorry," he taunted me, "then prove it. Kiss me, baby girl. Show me how sorry you are."

  I groaned, eyeing how much cake was still smeared over his face. Why had I picked up such a moist cake? There was so damn much frosting. "Arch..."

  "Kate..." He was mocking me playfully, and apparently that was my kryptonite.

  Fuck it, he'd wiped a decent amount of the cake off. I crashed my lips against his, licking frosting from his skin and letting the sugary cream roll over my taste buds. I didn't bother trying to get away with a quick peck; there was no way he'd allow that. Instead, I kissed him hard, plundering his mouth and ignoring the sticky mess transferring to my face. It was nothing a washcloth couldn't wipe off, and kissing playful Archer was worth it.

  He hummed against my mouth, his teeth pulling at my lower lip before releasing me.

  "Are we even now?" I asked, grinning way too wide. Why did I get off on pushing his buttons so hard? Definitely a question for my future therapist.

  "Hmm," he gave me a considering look, tugging on my hair again to create a small distance between us. I should have seen it coming. I really should have. But the fucker held me locked on his gaze, so I never even flinched when the cake in his hand smacked into the side of my face.

  I gasped, taking in a mouthful of sickly sweet caramel icing. Then just for good measure, he smooshed it in harder before tossing the plate back on the counter.

  "Now we're even," he told me, smug as fuck.

  Outrage boiled under my skin—even though I'd totally started it—and I tried to shove him away from me. He wasn't budging, though. Instead he just started laughing.

  "Oh come on, Kate, what better way to sample the wedding cakes, huh?" His grip on my hair held me helpless as he leaned in and licked a long line up the side of my face. "Mmm, not my favorite. Shall we try another?"

  "No!" I shrieked, seeing him go for another plate. This time I reacted faster and dodged out of the way before the red velvet cake could find my face to join the caramel swirl. Unfortunately, he still had a fistful of my hair, so I couldn't avoid it completely.

  I groaned in disbelief as the cake splattered all over my chest, half of it on my dress and half of it in my cleavage. Motherfucker.

  "Archer!" I protested as his grip loosened on my hair, and I pushed him away properly. "How the hell am I going to get that off? It's all over my dress!"

  His wicked grin was broad as he swiped a finger through the mess on my tits, then brought it to his lips. He licked it off way too damn sexually, humming his approval. "Easy," he replied, licking his lips. "Like this."

  Reaching behind me, he tugged my zipper down in one swift motion, then pushed the dress from my shoulders. The cake-splattered fabric pooled at my feet, and he palmed my breasts through my lace bra.

  "I think I like this one." He dipped his face down and licked some of the red velvet cake from the curve of my breast. I groaned, despite my better judgment, arching my back into his touch.

  "You're fucking dead, Archer D'Ath," I told him, but my threat lacked any real weight. Probably didn't help that my hands were already at his waist as I tugged his shirt free of his pants. I mean, fair was fair; if I lost my dress, he deserved to lose his shirt... and pants.

  My fingers made quick work of his shirt buttons. I pushed the fabric off his broad shoulders as he kissed my chest, my neck, my mouth. Suddenly I didn't care about the cake splattered all over us. All I could focus on was getting his pants off so I could—

  Archer stepped back, trying to kick his pants and shoes off at the same time, but stepped in the blob of cake and frosting he'd wiped off his face. Next thing I knew, he was flat on his back and groaning.

  "Oh shit." I laughed. "Are you okay?"

  He just groaned in response, and I knelt down beside him, still laughing. His pants and boxer-briefs were tangled around his ankles, but his dick was still hard so he couldn’t have hurt himself that badly. Big baby.

  "Princess?" he asked with a totally fake pained groan as I sat back on my heels to scoop the worst of the cake from my face and chest. "I'm pretty sure I broke my back." There was a sly smile on his lips, though, so I rolled my eyes.

  "Oh yeah? What a shame. Gues
s you won't be fucking me over this table after all." I rose up on my knees and wiggled my panties down, then tossed them aside. "Maybe I'll sit over here just out of reach and scratch that itch myself."

  His eyes widened like he was daring me. He should really know better by now. I reached behind myself, unhooked my bra, and tossed that in the same direction as my panties, then proceeded to swirl pale pink frosting over my erect nipples.

  Archer just watched me, his eyes blazing, and I brought my finger to my mouth to suck the icing off.

  "Mmm," I moaned in a hugely exaggerated way, "delicious."

  "Fuck," Archer whispered. He kicked his pants off the rest of the way, then pounced on me. My back slammed into the hard floor, but his hand under the back of my head prevented me from getting a concussion.

  "Oh my gosh," I gasped, sarcastic as hell, "it's a miracle! You're cured!"

  He snickered a laugh. His hips rolled and ground his hard cock against my core. "Amazing what your smart mouth can do to a guy." His hips rocked again, and his tip pushed into me, teasing and making me whimper.

  "My smart mouth?" I arched my back and desperately tried to top him from the bottom. It was a futile attempt, though. Archer was never letting me get away with that, a fact he proved by shifting his hands to my hips and pinning me to the floor.

  "Yeah." He kissed me in slow strokes that made me all the more wound up with needing him. "This mouth."

  "Archer," I groaned, squirming as he teased me with his dick only barely inside me. "This smart mouth is going to fucking bite you in a second if you don't fill me the hell up."

  He let out a sharp laugh but did what I wanted. The air rushed from my lungs as he slammed into me, giving me the whole damn thing in one thrust.

  "Like that?" he teased.

  I was incapable of words, so I just nodded frantically, my fingernails clawing into his back.

  Archer dipped his head back down. His tongue swiped more sticky cake from my neck, then he caught my earlobe between his lips.

  "I love you, Kate," he whispered, his voice rough with sincerity as his hips started to move between my legs.

  I groaned as I bucked up against him while he started fucking me slowly, giving me what he'd been taunting me with all damn day. His teeth scraped over my neck, his lips kissing, sucking, worshipping my cake-covered skin... yet I knew he was waiting for me to say something in response. He was holding back.

  "I..." I started, but then his fingers found my nipple and I moaned.

  "Yes, Princess?" he purred, rolling my flesh between his fingers and making me thrash. "You what?"

  I hissed a breath. "I..."

  His hips rocked as he fully seated himself within me. Then paused there. "Yes?"

  I groaned, then licked some cake from his cheek. "I... guess... I don't hate you."

  Archer barked a sharp laugh and shook his head. "Fuck it, I'll take it."

  This time when his mouth met mine, there was nothing teasing about it. He was all business as he claimed my lips. His hips pumped harder, faster, and I wound my legs around his body to pull him tighter into me.

  Incomprehensible curses and moans fell from my lips as Archer kissed my neck, and my nails raked down his back. I marked him just as surely as he was marking me, and the cave-woman in me went wild for that. It was almost disappointing that those marks faded so easily when Archer and I were so permanently inked into each other's hearts and souls.

  By the time I shattered into an orgasm, he'd fucked me halfway across the kitchen floor and my ass was freezing from being pounded into the polished concrete. Not that I was complaining. Despite the mess from the cakes, Archer was rocking my goddamn world.

  He came just a few moments later, pushed over the edge by the way I shuddered and thrashed under him in the throes of my climax.

  He pulled out, rolling to the side to rest beside me on the cold floor, then propped his head up on his hand to peer down at me. Bits of cake and icing still clung to his hair and stubble, but it did nothing to detract from his sex appeal. Fuck me, I was one lucky bitch.

  "You're perfect," he whispered, his eyes soft as he trailed his fingers over my sticky cheek. "Every time I look at you, I can't totally believe that you're mine."

  I quirked a brow at him as his fingers skated across my bare breasts. "Because you tried so damn hard to push me away?"

  "And I almost succeeded," he murmured, his expression turning sad. "It would have been the biggest fuck up of my entire life."

  My whole body was like a wet noodle, but I mustered enough strength to reach up and pull his face to mine, kissing him with all the unspoken feelings burning in my chest. I loved him. I knew it, and he knew it. But I just wasn't ready to force the words past my lips. Things between us were still too fresh, too raw.

  I was terrified that the next time he pushed me away, it'd break me.

  He didn't pressure me for more words, just slid his fingers down to my throbbing, hyper-sensitive pussy, where I was slick with his own seed. I groaned as he stroked me, his fingers becoming soaked with the result of our combined climaxes.

  "Fuck that's hot," he muttered, his lids heavy as he stared down at his fingers sliding in and out of me. I was still aching, but I parted my legs wider, letting him play. His thumb found my clit and I cried out, but that just got him hard all over again. That shit wasn't normal, but I wasn't going to question it. Maybe the alien theory was right.

  "Arch," I moaned, reaching for his rapidly hardening dick. My hand wrapped around him, pumping down his shaft while I watched his breath hitch. Seeing his reactions almost got me off as easily as his fingers in my pussy could.

  "Turn over." He took his hand away and sat up. I scrambled to do as he ordered, my own heart thudding with excitement as he amended that command. "On your knees, Princess."

  He positioned himself behind me, the tip of his cock nudging against my swollen cunt as I tried to rock back onto him. He let out a low chuckle, then reached forward and gathered my hair all up in one hand. His other hand gripped my hip hard enough to leave fingerprint marks, and it just made me pant.

  "Just so we're real crystal clear, baby girl," he murmured as he pushed his way back into my body, making me shudder with waves of arousal. "We're not done with that argument."

  Shock rippled through me, but he didn't give me a chance to retort. His hand in my hair pulled tight, forcing me to arch my neck. His hips slammed into me, his huge cock filling me up over and over. His pace didn't falter once until I was screaming my way through another orgasm. Only then did he slow, waiting me out.

  When he withdrew without coming, I made a sound of protest.

  Archer just chuckled a dark and lust-filled sound as he got to his feet, and I sat back on my heels. No encouragement was needed for me to part my lips and take him in my mouth.

  "Fucking hell," Archer groaned as I swallowed him deeper and sucked him hard. His hands came to the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my cake-covered hair, pushing and pulling at me as he set his pace.

  When he came a few moments later, I swallowed eagerly, then licked him all over before sitting back with a satisfied grin.

  Archer started laughing. He sank to his knees in front of me and kissed me like his life depended on it. "Totally goddamn perfect," he murmured between kisses, "for me."

  15

  As fun as it had been to throw cake in Archer's face and then fuck all over the bakery kitchen, the clean-up was significantly less enjoyable. Washing cake from my face, hair, and breasts was easy enough in the restroom, but trying to get it off my dress? Impossible.

  "Dammit, Archer," I snapped as I exited the bathroom in my stained dress with my hair scraped back into a ponytail. "I can't go out in public like this!"

  He threw a smirk, swiping his tattooed hand through his wet hair. "Why not? You look good enough to eat."

  My glare turned venomous. "Ha-fucking-ha, wise guy. Look at this! I look like I've just taken a load of cum all over my tits." Because no shit, that's wha
t cake frosting looked like when it dried onto fabric.

  Archer snagged me by the back of my neck and pulled me into his huge frame. "Not yet, but that could be arranged."

  Typical. With an irritated growl—and more than a little arousal—I shoved him off me and stormed back through to the kitchen to find my shoes and panties. I'd managed to find my bra and dress before washing up, but the rest of my outfit had been elusive.

  "Don't worry, Princess," Archer told me as he followed me into the kitchen. "You can wear my coat. No one will find out that you're into sploshing."

  I paused, my arm halfway under the oven, where I'd just spotted one of my shoes. "Into what?" I frowned up at him in confusion.

  "Sploshing," he repeated, giving me a mischievous smirk. "You know, the sexual act of covering your naked lover in food?"

  I wrinkled my nose at him, then retrieved my shoe before standing up to address that pearl of wisdom.

  "For one thing, Sunshine, I'm curious as to how you even know this term. For another, you started it!" I found my other shoe on the complete opposite side of the kitchen—however that had happened—and slipped my feet back into them.

  Archer scoffed a laugh. "Pretty sure I remember you throwing the first cake, Princess. Don't go blaming your fetishes on me; I'm just here to get you off in whatever way you want." His wink was next level condescending, and I needed to suppress the desire to kick him in the dick. Mainly because I liked his dick fully functional.

  "Whatever." I looked around for my underwear but came up blank. "Can you please help me find my panties? I really don't think Maurice needs to find my lace thong in the middle of his working day tomorrow."

  "This one?" Archer replied, pulling a familiar scrap of lace from his pocket and dangling it.

  "Yes!" I reached for my panties, but he snatched them out of my reach with a smile. Fuck's sake. "Seriously?" I demanded as he pocketed my thong once more. "Oh my god, you're as bad as Steele."

  Archer's only response was to drape his coat over my shoulders and link his fingers through mine, "Come on, Kate. Let's get home so we can wash this cake off properly."

 

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