I looked back over my shoulder again and that intense look was still there. My brain was cloudy with lust, but I acknowledged that although I loved sweet, gentle Archer, I loved take-charge Archer too. Whatever had brought this side of him to life, I embraced it, and I wanted more. "Please," I said on a whispery breath and his eyes flew to mine, clearing marginally, almost as if he was coming out of a trance.
He took himself in his hand and rubbed his stiff cock down the crack of my ass, up, down, up, down until I was panting and pressing myself into the couch cushions.
He brought himself to my opening and pushed gently inside, slowly, inch by inch and I moaned out with relief. I couldn't open my legs because of the way he was pressing down on me and so the feel of him entering me was almost too much, too tight and his size too much for me to accommodate from that angle. But he stilled for a minute, letting my body adjust and when I breathed out, he started sliding in and out of me in slow, leisurely strokes.
I put my arms under the pillow my head was resting on and turned my face to the side. He leaned down further and took my lips in a searing kiss, licking and sucking my tongue to the rhythm that his cock was gliding in and out of my wetness. When he broke the kiss and leaned back up, I saw our reflection in the big window across from the couch–anyone could have seen in, but of course, no one could on this fenced in, remote property, and so I didn't worry about that. I just watched our reflection, mesmerized by the sight and the feelings.
Archer had one knee on the couch on the other side of my legs, and one foot still on the floor, knee bent as he drove into me from behind. The sight of it was primal and the feel of it delicious as his big, hard cock pounded into me and my clit ground against the couch each time he moved down. It was as if he wanted to own me, possess me, merge our bodies into one being. I couldn't move, could only take what he was giving, trust him with my body and my heart. And I did. I trusted him with everything in me.
I turned my face into the pillow and bit down on it, not wanting to come yet, wanting this to go on and on and on. He loves me, my heart sang. And I love him, and he owns me, body and soul. I don't care about all the other stuff. All of it will work itself out. And in that moment I believed it with every fiber of my being.
Archer started moving faster, pounding into me harder, almost punishing, and I loved it, loved it so much that I couldn't stop the orgasm that gripped me suddenly, moving through my internal muscles with almost-agonizingly sweet slowness, spreading outward through my core, up to my belly and all the way down to my feet. I screamed into the pillow, burying my face into it as my body spasmed and convulsed in ecstasy.
Archer's thrusts sped up and grew jerky, his breathing growing louder, and I felt a small aftershock in my core at the knowledge that he was about to come.
He took three long strokes, exhaling loudly with each one as he pressed into me, his hands coming down on the couch on the side of my body as he held his own weight. I felt him grow even larger inside of me, stretching me, right before I felt the heat of his release and he collapsed on top of me, half on, half off so that the majority of his weight was on the edge of the couch.
We both just breathed for long minutes, getting our heart rates under control. Archer nuzzled his face into the back of my neck, kissing down my spine as far as his mouth could travel without him moving his body. I calmed under the feel of his warm mouth, closing my eyes and sighing contentedly. He ran his nose over my skin and then I felt his lips again as his mouth formed the words, I love you, I love you, I love you.
A little while later, after we had gone to bed, I woke up alone. I sat up groggily and looked around, but Archer was nowhere in sight. I got up and wrapped the sheet around my naked body and went in search of him. I found him sitting in a chair in his front room, wearing just his jeans, his golden skin glowing in the moonlight coming in the window, looking beautiful and broken, his elbows on his knees and one hand massaging the back of his neck as he looked down.
I went to him and kneeled down in front of him. "What's wrong?" I asked.
He looked at me and smiled a sweet smile, one that reminded me of the man who had come out with a newly-shaven face, looking at me so unsure. He brushed a piece of hair back off of my face and then said, Do you want kids, Bree?
My brows furrowed and my head came back slightly as I let out a small laugh. "Eventually, yes. Why do you ask that?"
Just wondering. I figured you did.
I was confused. "Do you not want kids, Archer? I don’t…"
He shook his head. It's not a matter of that. It's just… how would I support a family? I couldn't. I can barely support myself out here. I have a little bit of money left from my parents' insurance policy, but most of it went to my medical bills. My uncle supported us out here on his disability money from the army and now, I have a small insurance policy that he left–it'll last me as long as I don't live to be a hundred and ten… but that's it. His eyes moved away from me, back out the window.
I sighed, my shoulders drooping. "Archer, you'd get a job, do something you like. You don't think people with disabilities of one kind or another have careers all the time? They do–"
Do you want to hear about the first time I left this land on my own? he asked, cutting me off.
I studied his face and nodded my head yes, sadness suddenly gripping me and I wasn't even sure why.
My uncle passed away four years ago. He made all his own arrangements and was cremated. The medical examiner's crew came to take his body away and they brought his ashes back a week later. I didn't see another person for the next six months.
My uncle had a food stockpile down in the cellar–part of his crazy paranoia–and it kept me alive for that long. I started growing my hair, my beard… I didn't know exactly why at the time, but now I think it was another way to hide from the people I knew I'd eventually have to face. Crazy, right? His eyes found mine again.
I shook my head vigorously. "No, not crazy at all," I said softly.
He paused, looking at me and then went on. I held my breath. This was the first real time he had opened up to me on his own, without my probing.
The first time I left for the grocery store, it took me two hours to walk up that driveway, Bree, he said brokenly. Two hours.
"Oh, Archer," I breathed, tears coming to my eyes, my hands gripping his thighs, anchoring me to him. "You did it though, it was hard, but you did it."
He nodded. Yeah, I did it. People looked at me, whispered. I grabbed some bread and peanut butter and lived off of it for a week until I worked up the courage to go back out again. He huffed out a small breath, his face pained. I hadn't been off this land since I was seven years old, Bree.
He looked past me for a minute, obviously remembering. After a while though, it got better. I ignored people and they ignored me–I just started blending in, I guess. If someone spoke to me, I looked the other way. It was fine after that. I took up projects around here and stayed busy. I was lonely, so damn lonely. He ran a hand through his hair, his expression tortured. But I tired myself out most days…
I felt the tears shimmering in my eyes, understanding even more deeply the bravery it had taken for Archer to even take one step off this land.