His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 537

Helena took Cindy back to Cloudcrest Estate for the night, leaving Virginia and Archer to return to South Hill well past ten.

Zachary stayed in the driver's seat with practiced tact; Archer shoved his door open, practically carrying Virginia up the walk and into the house.

The heavy front door clicked shut, triggering the motion-sensor lights in the foyer.

Before she could even kick off her heels, Archer's massive frame crowded her against the thick wooden door, trapping her in place.

"Archer..."

The moment her lips parted, he crashed his mouth over hers with a desperate, crushing urgency.

This kiss was absolutely relentless.

Gone was the careful restraint from Chicago, gone was the torturous discipline from the past few days; this was pure, unadulterated hunger.

He locked one hand at the nape of her neck while his other forcefully tugged the faux-fur wrap off her shoulders, carelessly tossing it onto the bench.

His signature scent of Oud & Bergamot completely swallowed her senses.

Virginia was left breathless by the sheer force of his kiss, her hands helplessly gripping his broad, powerful shoulders.

Archer's scorching palm slid up the curve of her waist, trailing liquid fire and sparking electricity everywhere he touched.

After an agonizing eternity, he pulled back just an inch, resting his forehead against hers, their noses brushing as his chest he heave with terrifyingly heavy breaths.

"Virginia, can I?" His voice was completely destroyed, a raw, gritty rasp, yet he still fiercely held onto enough sanity to ask.

Looking at the red flush at the corners of his eyes, her heart practically melted; she didn't say a word, simply rising onto her toes, tilting her head back, and offering him her lips.

Archer froze for a fraction of a second before wrapping his arms underneath her, lifting her entirely off the ground and taking the stairs two at a time; he kicked the master bedroom door open, hooking it shut with his heel.

He didn't bother turning on the lights, leaving the room illuminated only by the faint moonlight bleeding through the curtains.

He pressed her down into the massive, plush bed, the black velvet of her gown riding dangerously high as he knelt over her, his long fingers working frantically at the top buttons of his own shirt.

Normally, Archer was the picture of ice-cold discipline, but right now, his eyes were blown dark with absolute, unleashed obsession.

The night was long.