Set the following Spring after the events of A Study in Ruin.

 

I stretch my legs out in front of me, nestling deeper into the plump satin pillows of the bed. The glorious silkiness of the sheets feels like a dream against my skin. For a moment, I refuse to open my eyes, content simply to breathe in the familiar scent of the man sleeping beside me.

Archer.

Eventually, I crack my eyelids open, blinking away the last remnants of sleep. I savour the quiet of the early morning, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the strong line of his jaw, the way his hair falls in unruly strands across his forehead.

He looks so peaceful. So completely at odds with the terrifying, meticulous Professor everyone believes him to be.

Except me.

I know the softness, and the kindness, and the vulnerability he doesn’t let anyone see. I’m privy to his deepest thoughts and most intense emotions. I’ve seen every sharp edge, every flaw, every part of him he tries so desperately to keep concealed, and I love every one of them.

I shimmy closer to him, threading my fingers through his. His skin is warm against mine, and the corners of his mouth lift into the faintest smile.

‘How long have you been awake?’ I whisper, my voice almost too loud in the peaceful silence.

‘Not long.’ His eyes flutter open, dimples appearing as his smile deepens. ‘Good morning, beautiful.’

Heat blooms across my cheeks. Somehow, despite everything we’ve been through, he can still make me blush.

Golden light spills through the narrow gap in the curtains of the Headmaster’s rooms, dappling the bed in soft patches of spring sunshine. It brushes across Archer’s face, catching in his eyes and turning their stormy grey into something bright and glacial.

It’s been months now since everything went down. Since all of our lives changed and we were bound together by grief, survival, love and so much more.

The alarm clock on our bedside table begins blaring and I groan. Reluctantly, I pull myself up into a sitting position and hit the off switch – slightly harder than potentially necessary – to silence it. When I look back at Archer, he’s smirking at me.

‘What are you smiling about?’ I moan. ‘It’s far too early to be alive.’

That only makes him laugh harder. ‘Well,’ he says. ‘One… you sound like Adora.’

I roll my eyes.

‘And two… you were the one who chose to make breakfast plans at this ungodly hour. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be sound asleep.’

Playfully smacking him on the shoulder, I push off of the bed and stand. ‘You’re a nightmare.’

His eyes darken as they roam my body, gaze snagging on the lacey black pants that barely cover my arse and the matching vest top. ‘Yes, but I’m a nightmare that regrets taunting you and would very much love for you to come back to bed… Right now.’

Now it’s my turn to smirk.

‘I need to shower and get ready.’ I shrug innocently.

‘What if I make it worth your while?’ he winks.

I just give him a little shimmy and disappear into the bathroom, dropping my pants as I go.

I hear him swear at me as I close the door.

~

As I step back into the bedroom in nothing but a towel, Archer is nowhere to be seen, so I take a seat at the vanity and begin working the brush through the long strands of my hair.

As soon as I’m done, the door creaks open.

‘Where did you disappear to?’ I ask Archer as he steps inside.

He crosses the room in just a few long strides. He’s dressed in casual jogging bottoms and a black T-shirt, and I almost melt at the sight of him. I’m so used to seeing him dressed in the most gloriously tailored suits that being granted the rare privilege of seeing him this casual – and this fucking sexy – still blows my mind.

He comes to stand behind me, resting a hand on my shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.

‘I went to fetch my favourite girl some coffee.’

I smile up at him through the mirror, tilting my head to kiss the back of his hand. ‘Thank you,’ I say gratefully, taking the brown bag from his outstretched hand, breathing in the smell of freshly ground coffee. ‘I love you.’

He leans down and kisses the top of my head. ‘I love you too.’ He trails his finger along the length of my shoulder, his touch so gentle against my skin. Then his other hand gathers the wet strands of my hair and moves them to the side so they fall over my shoulder. He leans down and kisses the skin between my neck and collarbone.

I let out an involuntary shiver and my eyelids flutter closed. My head tilts to the side of its own accord, allowing him better access.

‘Archer—’ I start.

‘Shhh,’ he says, his breath warm against my skin. ‘Stand up.’

I obey.

He walks me across the room, until we’re standing on my side of the bed. One of my hands reaches up to his hip, and the other holds the towel together at my breasts.

He shakes his head. ‘Drop it.’

I slowly remove my hand, one finger at a time, and allow the towel to drop, pooling in a pile at my feet.

 He tells me to sit down and I swallow. I look up at him, blinking.

‘Sit. Down.’ He says again in his cruel Professor voice. It leaves no room for argument. It’s no-nonsense, just pure, unyielding strength.

I blink at him again and say, ‘No.’

His gaze narrows, punishment glinting in his eyes.

‘No,’ I repeat, voice louder. ‘Today, I want you to sit down instead.’

He looks at me with a mix of confusion and lust. ‘What?’

‘You heard me.’ A small, mischievous smile creeps across my face. ‘You sit down.’

His mind seems at war – the desire to remain the one in charge, fighting against the longing to be dominated for a change. The latter seems to prevail as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

I win.

I twirl a strand of hair around my finger in the way I know drives him crazy, then, pushing his thighs apart with my knee, I stand directly in front of him. I can already feel the hardness of his cock desperate to be free. I lean forward, slowly, running my hands through his hair. I close my fists around a handful of silvery strands and pull, forcing his head up to face me.

I kiss him deeply.

It’s raw, and passionate, and perfect. My lips open wider as his tongue sweeps my mouth, the taste of him never failing to make my entire body explode with need.

I pull away and he looks up at me desperately.

Smiling playfully, I lean over towards the bedside table and pull open the bottom draw. Archer eyes me cautiously as I pull out the satin blindfold that is usually reserved for me.

I blink down at him, eyelashes fluttering in question. He looks between me and the blindfold, and then nods, almost imperceptibly.

I slowly step out from between his legs, and round the bed, my bare feet silent on the wooden floorboards.

I climb onto the mattress and position myself directly behind him. I run my nails over the skin of his back – over the scars he’s only recently become comfortable with letting me see – and it elicits a quiet groan of pleasure.

Unravelling the silk blindfold in my fingers, I place it over his eyes. I can hear the smallest intake of breath as I deprive him of one of his senses.

Then, I hook a finger under his chin and turn his head to face me. I kiss him again, harder this time, and a warmth envelops me between the thighs at the power shift. I feel strong, being in control…

I fucking love it.

Moving off of the bed, I leave him sitting there. The slight tilt of his head shows me he’s unsure where I am and that he’s trying to listen.

Deciding I want to play, I leave him like that for a moment.

Silently, I begin edging closer, then kneel down between his thighs. He only realises what I’m doing when I free his throbbing length from his trousers and wrap my lips around it.

‘Fuck, Iris…’

‘Shhh,’ I tease, before taking it in again. He’s so large that he fills my entire mouth. He gasps, and I smile around his cock. I remove myself right to the tip, just to take him all the way to the hilt. Then again. And again.

I add a hand and a tongue and he shatters. He pulls my hair into a ponytail with his fist, and forces my head down further.

‘Yes,’ he groans. ‘That’s it, you fucking good girl.’

Tears prick my eyes as his length hits the back of my throat, but I keep going. I know I’m a fucking good girl. And I can tell he’s close when his thighs tense, trapping my body between his legs.

His orgasm hits him and I swallow him down, feeling his climax running down my throat. He roars my name and pulls on my hair so hard I see stars, and that alone is almost enough to make me finish with him.

Eventually, I pull back, and wipe my lips with my thumb. I stand, looking down at him.

He’s so perfect.

Crawling onto the bed beside him, I reach round the back of his head and undo the ties. The blindfold falls to his lap and he looks up at me.

‘I fucking love you,’ he says, throat raw.

I smirk. ‘I know you do.’