Chuckling, he kisses me, his tongue darting out for a lick. “You sure?”

“Definitely,” I assure him. “Let me control it though. I don’t want you to make a wrong move and then it’s over.”

He kisses me, his tongue thrusting deep, one hand holding my hip to him, his other hand in my hair, fingers pulling tight. I whimper against his hungry mouth, moan when his hand slides over my backside, his fingers dipping gently between my legs from behind.

“You’re wet,” he murmurs, sounding shocked as he slowly strokes me.

I release a shuddering breath. My entire body feels strung tight as a wire. “I want you, Archer. I’ve wanted you for days. Weeks.”

“Hmm.” He hums against my lips, inserting just the tip of his finger inside me. “Does that hurt?”

I move against him, flexing my hips. “No. It feels good,” I whisper.

He flips me over, and I’m sprawled on the bed, Archer’s mouth pressed hard against mine. Then I’m left shocked when he leaps away from me, and quickly strips off his clothes. He’s erect and just seeing him like that sends sparks of heat scattering through me. My ni**les tighten and an incessant ache begins to throb between my legs.

“Come here,” I whisper, holding my arms out. “Hurry.”

Grinning, he rejoins me in bed, positioning himself above me, his mouth on my neck, nipping and tasting my skin. “If I’m on top then I can control how deep I go,” he whispers just before he licks my ear.

I shiver. “But I like being on top.”

“Next time,” he promises. “I just want to feel you beneath me, wrapped around me.”

His words touch my heart. I curl my legs around his hips, anchoring myself to him as he moves downward, blazing a hot, damp, path along my skin with his lips and tongue. He lashes at my ni**les before sucking first one, then the other inside his mouth, and I cling to him, crying out when he sucks one particularly hard. “Careful,” I murmur. “I’m sensitive there.”

“Ah, right.” He smiles and adjusts himself above me, his erection nudging my belly. “You sensitive here?” He grabs hold of his c**k and gently pushes just the tip inside.

I suck in a sharp breath, holding it as he slowly enters me. “Yes,” I whisper in encouragement, but which only makes him stop.

“I’m hurting you?” He sounds pained, his expression tight, his gaze dark. He’s waited a long time for this too, and I immediately feel bad for him.

“No. I’m fine.” I kiss him hungrily, wanting him to realize that I’m all for this. “Just . . . go slow. No abrupt thrusts okay?”

“Okay.” He nods almost frantically. “I’ll go slow, I promise.”

We move cautiously in unison, me because I’m trying to get used to his size again and he because he’s afraid to hurt me. There’s something so sweet about it though, how gently he’s making love to me. His touch is featherlight, his kisses deep and delicious and so incredibly soft.

I feel like I’m in a dream. Everything is hazy and blurred, my skin tingles when he touches me, my body trembling as he moves inside of me, and I feel so protected, so loved.

Within minutes Archer increases his pace, his breathing heavier, and I can tell he’s already close. I’m close too, and I whisper it in his ear, wanting him to push me right over that delicious edge so I can fall into oblivion along with him. “Touch me,” I encourage and he does, his hand going straight between us, his fingers playing nimbly with my clit.

I bite my lip and arch into his touch, sending him deeper which makes him groan. The pace becomes frantic, and he’s not being as careful any longer, but it doesn’t matter. I’m caught up completely, seeking my orgasm just as ferociously as he is. Until we’re both tumbling over the brink and falling headfirst into climax, our bodies shuddering and shaking together.

He falls atop me, his heavy weight a comfort. I breathe into his neck, rubbing my hands up and down the wide expanse of his back, as he tries to gather himself after such an amazing orgasm, no doubt.

Oops. Realization dawns, and I shove at him so he has no choice but to roll over on his side next to me.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, sounding put out.

“We didn’t use a condom.” I slap my hand against my forehead, feeling like an idiot. “God, I’m so stupid.”

“What’s the big deal? You won’t get pregnant this quick,” he says, sounding pleased with himself. Looking pleased with himself too, like he always does right after he comes. His hair is a mess and his eyes have a satisfied gleam to them, but I sort of want to slug him.

“There are horror stories out there, Archer. I’ve met women who after having a baby, get knocked up again within months. Sometimes weeks.” I shudder in horror. “That sounds awful.”

“What, having another Jackson? That kid is the best.” He slings his arms behind his head, that smug curl to his lips both attractive and irritating. “He’s amazing. Don’t tell me all you want is one.”

“Oh, I want more,” I tell him, walking my fingers across his sweat-dampened chest. “But I don’t want babies ten months apart. What a nightmare.” I tug on his nipple a little too hard, making him yelp.

“I’d help you,” he says, leaning in to kiss me.

I dodge his lips. “I’d need two nannies at least.”

“You don’t even have a nanny now,” he points out. “You refused when I offered you one.”