Deadlines & Desires

Ch. 16

Kai

It happened—a collision of intentions, a moment suspended in time. I kissed her.

It was hard and fast, a primal impulse that pushed us both back into the couch. Instinct displaced reason; my kiss flooded her senses, my hand found its rightful place on her waist, grounding her as if we were two energetic celestial bodies spinning wildly, dangerously close to one another. The other hand? Oh, that was a betrayal; it slid through her hair, fingers getting tangled in the wild chaos that was her lifestyle.

Her gasp betrayed her surprise, but it ignited the fire within me. I pressed forward, my lips trailing through the contours of her jawline, down her neck, savoring the bare skin that radiated warmth beneath my fingers. It was an urgent exploration—hungry, messy, electric. Somewhere deep inside, I could feel her hesitance dissolving against the thrill of it all.

The way she squirmed was maddening. It fueled my fire, making me lift her sweater slightly, craving more than just a surface-level connection. Her breath hitched, and I focused on that moment, capturing Lorelai Forbes's bewilderment as if I were still a hunter and she my prey—only, the roles had reversed. Somehow, I was more than just drawn to her. I was engulfed in everything she represented.

Her hands—oh, those pesky hands—were stuck between surprise and the need to anchor herself; one was tangled in my spiky hair, while the other rested on my chest, as if to push me away, but we both knew that wasn't the real intention.

But even as the kiss deepened, a part of me struggled to grasp the reality of this moment. In my line of work, I'd learned to maintain control, to dodge questions, but here I was, on the brink of losing myself to the force of nature that was Lorelai Forbes. Chaos was her element, and I found a strange solace in the storm.

The sweater slid up, inch by tantalizing inch, until it was over her head, leaving her in nothing but a delicate bra that fit her like it was crafted by the universe just for her. I hovered for a moment, taking in the sight of her, the vulnerability mixed with boldness in her midnight blue eyes—how was it possible for someone so chaotic to also be so captivating?

"So beautiful..." I murmured

And just like that, I descended. My lips worshipped her—each kiss a dedication to every part of her bare skin I could find, from the softness of her stomach to the delicate curve of her collarbone. It felt primal, almost possessive, the need to claim, to hold, to reserve this moment for my eyes only. I didn't just want to touch her; I wanted to protect her chaos, to keep it close to me so that no one else could ever know this side of her.

What was it about her that drew me in? It was the fervor with which she pursued the truth, the passion coloring her features, the way she seemed to dissolve in my touch, moving from journalist to woman, both fiercely independent yet achingly vulnerable. And it was then that I realized—she was mine in this moment. Mine. Not for anyone else to touch. Just me.

As I gazed at her, pure and breathtaking in her bra, desire ignited my instincts. I wanted to claim her, to tether myself to her wildly chaotic existence. It was an impulse far removed from anything I'd ever experienced—a deep and consuming need, unlike the calculated moves in my business world.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard her muffled whispers. Words glimmering with a teasing sarcasm that I'd long been immune to returned, but they fell away softly against the backdrop of my hunger. Because here was the thing—I found her chaos beautiful. I wanted to worship that chaos, and let it color my life in explosions of vibrant unpredictability.

"Say my name" She mumbled into my ear "Please"

God, she sounded so beautiful when she begged, I obliged, I'd oblige to naything she asked of me, anything.

"Lorelai" I started, kissing her stomach, "Lorelai, Lorelai...." I kissed up, finding the clasp of her bra, undoing it and kissing between her breasts..."God, Lorelai--"

In that vulnerable moment, I felt possessive; I had never craved someone this deeply before. Lorelai Forbes, in all her chaotic glory, was meant to be seen by me and me alone. No one else could touch her like this, feel her writhe under my embrace, worship her in this way.

As I worshipped her figure with my lips, kissing every inch of bare skin I could find, I was flooded with possessive fervor. The intensity of my desire wrapped around me like a vice, and with each kiss, the conviction solidified—she was mine. Here, in this chaotic embrace, I became aware of an ache deep within me, an understanding that no one else should ever witness her in this light, nor deserve to touch her like this.

Her fingers fumble with the buttons of my shirt, each movement steeped in urgency and desire. I can't help but admire the way she takes control—they pop one by one, and she slides her hands against my chest, igniting flames along the path of her touch. My other hand slides down, quickly working to pull her skirt lower, our movements a harmonious exchange of want and need.

It's unreal, how long I never even realised I was waiting for this moment, waiting to taste her, though I should've known she would taste like coffee and danishes, it was the scent I smelled on her first day she waltzed into my office, and now she lay here in my penthouse, looking ethearal in just her bra and panties.

Speaking of which, I glided my hand from her waist to the wetness on her panties, pushing into her through the lacy fabric, she groaned in what I guess was frustration

"For fucks sake Archer" She gasped as I pushed harder "Just rip the damn thing off won't you!?"

I grinned for the first time in a while, and obeyed her command. "You're so wet for me" I murmured into her ear and I puhsed my fingers faster, harder into her "It's adorable, and increadibly hot"

Her breath hitched like a record scratch, she gasped, then a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper elicited itself from her throuat, then another. She looked so damn sexy like this. Begging for me, on the brink of ecastcy-

"Please~" She moaned out, her voice raspy as my fingers worked quicker

"Please what, Lore?" The nickname slipped from my lips effortlessly

"Please...I want...more--" She let out a soft moan again, and weakly fumbled with my belt

Oh she wanted me inside her, did she?

I could do that.

I slid my trousers off and revealed my unbelively hard member to her, before, without anywarning, pushing into her.

At that moment, I discovered two things. One, she was so fucking tight for me, and two...she was a screamer.