Chapter 42 #2
“I…” I wring my hands. I’m nervous to say this. Not just to them, but to myself as well. I must be fucked up because who ever could feel the way I do in this situation? I feel Archer's hand on my arm, comforting me. “I think I have feelings for Rafe too.”
They both look at me for a long while, saying nothing. Then they look at each other. Silas smirks.
“What?” I ask.
Archer raises one eyebrow and then purses his lips and turns back to me.
“We know.” He says and my mouth falls open slightly.
“How do you know?” I ask, not sure I want to know.
“Because you look at him the same way you look at us.” Silas says. His hands have settled on my hips now.
“I do?” I ask, slightly confused. I could’ve sworn that I mainly scowl at him.
“Oh, absolutely.” Archer says moving from a crouched position to a sitting one. He runs his hand through his hair. Hair that’s all mussed from my pulling it. I bite my lower lip.
“Just like that.” Silas says, his voice low and rough. “You look at Rafe, just like how you looked at Archer.”
My cheeks heat and my heart rate picks up. My gaze falls to Archer’s and he’s looking at me with a gut clenching stare. I tear my gaze away to find Silas staring at me like a predator that has found his prey.
“If you want to have Rafe too, you can, Princess. Neither of us will stop you.” Silas leans in close. One had has slid around my back and is pulling me closer to him.
Silas’ lips brush the shell of my ear before he tucks my hair gently over one shoulder. His mouth moves down the side of my neck, slow and purposeful, and the moment I feel his tongue trace a line against my skin, I melt.
A soft moan slips past my lips as my hands lift, finding his shoulders.
My head tilts back, baring my neck more for him.
He takes as the invitation that it is, kissing lower, trailing heat into my collarbone.
His hands slide up under my shirt, fingertips dragging along my sides, and I swear I’m glowing beneath his touch.
Archer is so quiet, I don’t hear him move. I just feel the warmth of him press behind me as his mouth finds the slope of my opposite shoulder. His kiss is firm, and it makes my breath hitch. Having them both on me feels like a dream I didn’t dare let myself have.
“Oh, god,” I whisper, overwhelmed, but aching for more.
Silas’ lips curve against my skin. “Feels good?” he asks.
I nod.
“Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Yes. It feels… incredible.”
“Mmm.” Archer’s hum is deep, vibrating against my skin. “Then let’s keep going.”
Silas slides his hands to my waist and lifts me with ease, shifting me from his lap to Archer’s.
I feel the shift of knees and thighs as I settle into Archer’s lap, my back to his chest, legs parted and draped over his.
His hands settle on my thighs, spreading me wider, using just the pressure of his knees to hold me open.
“Perfect,” he breathes against the shell of my ear.
Silas doesn’t say anything at first, he just watches. Watches Archer’s palms glide up and down my thighs like he’s memorizing them. Watches my chest rise and fall. Watches my lips part, the air getting thick around us.
Archer’s fingers skim the slit of my skirt. His knuckles graze higher, his breath still hot at my neck. The skirt of my dress is starting to bunch up around my waist.
I hear Silas exhale sharply, and when I glance at him, I see the hunger in his eyes, the raw want. He’s palming himself through his jeans.
“You see that?” Archer murmurs against my ear. “That’s how much we want you.”
Archer grabs a fistful of my skirt and lifts it just enough that my underwear is visible. Silas lets out a groan, running a hand through his hair, his eyes falling closed for a second.
“Fuck,” he mutters. His gaze stays locked on me as he reaches forward, placing his hands on my thighs, right over Archer’s. “Look at how worked up you are, baby. I can see it. How much you want this.”
My voice is caught somewhere in my throat. My body is burning. Every inch of me is on edge, wanting.
Archer kisses the side of my neck, his mouth slow, then presses his lips lower, right above my shoulder blade. I moan, trying to hold it back, but it still escapes.
He chuckles, low and wrecked. “Bite your lip all you want,” he whispers, “but we’re still going to make you fall apart.”
His voice is silk-wrapped steel, and it shoots straight through me. I shudder in his lap, every nerve wound tight, anticipation crawling beneath my skin.
“Archer,” I whine, breathless.
“You want more?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
I nod, too quick.
He chuckles, and the sound is dark, laced with something deeper. “Use your words.”
“Yes,” I say, forcing it out on a gasp. “Please.”
Silas shifts in front of me, crouched now, one knee pressed into the blanket I had tried to hide myself with. He watches Archer with something close to reverence.
“That’s our girl,” he says, and I swear I nearly come undone at just that.
He kisses my cheek softly and then leans me forward.
“Stand up.” He gets to his feet na pulls me with him.
“This dress is coming off.” His hands expertly move to the zipper at my back, sliding it down with ease.
The dress slips from my shoulders and falls to the floor.
Archer holds out one hand to me and I take it.
“That’s better,” he growls as I sip out of the dress.
Looking down I see Silas scanning my body, hesitating on his favorite spots.
“Silas,” Archer says. “Don’t touch her yet.”
A flicker of surprise crosses Silas’ face, but it’s gone in a flash, replaced by a grin that’s wicked. He leans back and nods in agreement, but his eyes never leave me.
“I’ll behave,” Silas says. “For now.”
“Good.” Archer takes a seat again and pulls me into his lap. “She needs to learn patience.” My legs tossed over his knees again, spreading me wide for Silas.
“Look at him,” Archer whispers. “Look at how much he wants you.”
My eyes meet Silas’ and I nearly flinch. The heat there is overflowing. His pupils are blown, jaw tight, hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“I want to touch you so bad, Princess,” Silas says. “But I know he will make it so good if we both listen.”
A whimper escapes me.
Archer hums low in approval. “You like being looked at while I touch you?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Then don’t look away.”
He slides one hand beneath the fabric of my underwear, and my whole body stiffens, but he doesn’t go where I want him. His fingers glide along the outer edge, teasing, circling, maddening.
“You’re already soaked,” he says, sounding smug.
“I…I can’t—”
“You can,” Archer says, his voice firm. “You’ll wait until I say you don’t have to.”
He withdraws his hand entirely, and I nearly cry out.
“No, no, please—”
Archer grabs my chin firm but gentle and tilts my face toward him.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Then let me show you what it feels like to fall apart slowly.”
His hands move with measured precision. He releases my chin and pushes me forward.
“Put your hands on Silas.”
I reach forward without hesitation, placing my palms on Silas’s chest. He exhales shakily.
“Good girl,” Archer praises, and warmth floods me at those words. “Now lean forward.”
I do, pressing my chest toward Silas while Archer holds my hips steady.
It puts the ache of tension right where I can feel it, the throb between my legs impossible to ignore.
Archer’s hands move again, gliding up my thighs, thumbs sweeping tender circles over the sensitive skin.
He doesn’t touch where I want him to. Not yet.
He’s dragging it out, making every second feel like an eternity.
“You feel her shaking?” he asks Silas.
Silas nods, voice thick. “She’s trembling.”
“Because she’s so needy,” Archer murmurs. “And we’re going to give her everything… when she earns it.”
One hand moves to my center again, and this time he presses down gently, not enough to push me over, just enough to keep me there, simmering.
“You’re going to stay right here,” Archer whispers against my skin, “until you’re begging us to let you come.”
I whimper again, legs twitching from how much I want more.
Silas groans softly, his hands flexing against his thighs. “Fuck, Arch. You’re driving her crazy.”
“She can take it,” Archer says. “Can’t you, pretty girl?”
I nod frantically. “Yes, yes—I can, please—”
“Not yet,” Archer warns, hand slowing to a halt.
I bite my lip and let out a broken sound, rocking my hips against nothing, desperate for any friction.
Archer just smiles against my neck.
“Kiss her.”
Silas leans in without hesitation, mouth finding mine in a hungry, molten kiss that melts every bit of resolve I have left. Archer holds me steady, hands tightening at my hips again.
But still… no release. I’m shaking now. Inside and out. Every inch of me burning. I pull away from Silas.
“Please,” I gasp. “Please, I need—”
“You’ll come when I say.”
Archer’s hands never rush. One glides upward, palm tracing the dip of my waist, the curve of my ribcage, until his fingers find the soft swell of my breast. His thumb grazes my nipple through the thin fabric of my bra, circling, teasing, drawing it to a tight peak.
I arch, a breathless sound breaking from me.
He pulls the cup down with excruciating slowness until I'm bare for them.
“She’s beautiful,” Silas mutters, almost to himself.
Archer hums in agreement. “Watch closely,” he murmurs.
He pinches gently, then rolls my nipple between his fingers. My back arches as sparks shoot down my spine. It’s not just the sensation… it’s knowing Silas is watching. I can feel his eyes on me. As if it were another pair of hands. My head tips forward, overwhelmed.
“Ah, ah,” Archer says, voice suddenly stern. His fingers still. “Eyes on Silas.”