Chapter 19
Archer’s lips were like a flame against her own, the fire spreading to her own body.
River was lost in the heat of it, in the need that Archer showed her with that one simple kiss, with the hands on her waist that gripped her as if he never wanted to let her go, with the soft sound he made against her mouth—one that she wanted to hear again and again, desperate to know he wanted this as much as she did.
One of his hands found her hair, his clever fingers tugging the strands free of their bonds.
Her dark tresses fell over her shoulders just as he seemed to like it, his fingers threading through them like a comb through silk.
River came alive in his hands; never before had her body been so responsive, so attuned to every single sense, every single change in it.
Heat gathered low in her stomach, and this time, she knew what to expect.
Ever since that night they had spent together, she had been thinking about the pleasure Archer had given her more often than she would have liked, craving the same thing—the same sensations, the same closeness to him, the same intimacy.
And though before he had seemed distant to her, now that they were kissing, now that he was holding her so close, it seemed that any distance between them had vanished.
“I’ve been thinkin’ about ye all the time,” Archer mumbled against her lips as he guided her toward the antechamber, where her bed stood.
River stumbled backwards, neither of them willing to part even for a moment as they walked together towards the bed, Archer towering over her as he guided her there.
“Ye have?” she managed to say when they broke apart for breath.
“Of course,” said Archer, just as the back of River’s knees hit the edge of the mattress.
She had hardly realized they had made it there, and now that she did, her stomach tied itself into knots.
She didn’t know why she was feeling so nervous; she had already gone through this once, and it had been the most pleasurable experience of her life.
But the nerves of her first time seemed to have eclipsed the nerves that came with the thought of Archer seeing her nude, of the worry that he might not like what he saw, of everything that now held her back.
And it was as if Archer could intuit it, as if he sensed something in the way she held herself—a stiffening of the shoulders, a slight twitch of the spine.
“Calm down,” he said, his fingers tracing the length of her back. “I’ll take care of ye.”
The worst part was that she believed him.
Ever so slowly, Archer rounded her like a shark and came to stand behind her.
Those same fingers that had traced her back were now undoing the back of her dress, unlacing her petticoat, her corset, every garment tossed to the floor by her feet in a careless pile.
When her breasts were exposed, Archer took a moment to lean closer and kiss her neck, his lips brushing ever so gently over her sensitive skin as his hands reached for her, fingers rolling over her nipples just to hear her gasp.
Then, his hands cupped her breasts, squeezing the ample flesh until she was melting against him, all her defences gone.
“That’s it,” he praised her, as he continued to tease her nipples. “Let go. I’ve got ye.”
River didn’t need to be told twice. She was already too far gone, too lost in her pleasure to care about her embarrassment.
All she cared about was that touch of Archer’s hands, the way he was so focused on her pleasure even as if she could feel his hardness growing against her back, pressing into her.
It sent a shiver down her spine. Soon, she was fully nude before him, and Archer’s hands moved to her rear, grabbing a handful of flesh.
Before she knew it, he was on his knees behind her, pushing her down until she was bracing herself against the edge of the mattress.
River glanced over her shoulder at him, though she could hardly get a look at him.
It only dawned on her what he was trying to do when she felt his breath ghost over her folds, followed by the slick heat of his tongue over her.
“Archer!” River cried, her entire body shaking with need. Pressure built deep in her belly, her need growing and growing as Archer growled behind her in response and pushed even deeper, licking into her with abandon. “Please, please, please.”
River didn’t even know what it was she was asking for. All she knew was that her body was moving on its own accord, pushing back, her hips undulating as she tried to reach her zenith.
Archer wasted no time. River had only moments to recover before he grabbed her and all but hauled her onto the bed. Suddenly, she found herself on her hands and knees on the mattress, once again looking over her shoulder at Archer to see him tearing his clothes off his body.
She loved seeing him like this, almost feral, not caring about the expensive garments he wore. She loved seeing those grooves and valleys of his chest, the bulge of muscles, his manhood, long and thick, straining against his stomach.
“Ye drive me insane,” he said as he gripped her hips with a steady hand.
His fingers dug into her flesh, and River couldn’t help but wish that he would leave a mark behind, something for her to remember him the following morning—something that would make her ask for yet another night.
“I cannae take ye out of me mind, River. All I can think of is ye, yer body . . . me plunging deep inside ye and hearin’ ye moan me name. ”
She did, as if on command, his words filling her with need. How could she respond to any of this with anything but moans, anything but pleas for him to finally take her, to part her body for him, to claim her fully?
When she felt the blunt tip of his manhood against her seam, River’s breath caught in her throat.
She knew what to expect—the stretch, the smooth slide of him deep inside her, until she was filled to the brim—and yet it still stunned her, that sudden pleasure.
Archer’s thrust was slow, measured, too controlled for her liking, and so River began to push back, only for him to stop her, to keep her steady with both hands on her hips.
“Stay still,” he growled. “It’s me job to pleasure ye.”
River did as she was told, though she hardly had a choice with the way Archer was holding her. She clutched onto the bedding, holding on as Archer began to thrust slowly, torturously so, making her feel every single thrust.
“Tell me how much ye like this,” he said, leaning closer to press a kiss to her back. “Tell me how much ye want it.”
River’s cheeks heated with embarrassment and she shook her head as if to say she couldn’t; she couldn’t admit it, not out loud, no matter how true it was. But then, Archer stopped, his hips stilling.
“I want to hear it,” he said. “Tell me.”
“I...I want it,” River managed, just to get him to move again. “Please, Archer, I want it so much, daenae stop, please, daenae stop.”
“Ye have nae idea what ye feel like. Ye have nae idea what it’s like to be inside ye. It’s like heaven. Ye’re like heaven, River. Go on...come for me. I want to feel ye come around me.”
River didn’t need to be told twice. She was already so close, her body reaching for her climax, and Archer’s words pushed her over the edge.
She reached her orgasm with a cry of his name, clenching rhythmically around him as warmth exploded all through her, reaching all the way to the very ends of her limbs.
She almost collapsed on the bed, held upright only by Archer’s hands as he kept thrusting into her, her pleasure so overwhelming and all-encompassing, as if she was plunged into a dark lake.
Afterwards, Archer helped her settle in bed, but he didn’t join her, much to her surprise and disappointment. All she wanted was to feel his warmth, his arms around her, to sleep next to him and wake with him by her side.
But soon, Archer was dressed once more and he was hovering over her to press a kiss to her forehead, and River couldn’t find the words to ask him to stay.
He was gone without another word, and River lay there, in the darkening room, wondering what it was that had gotten into him. He truly was different now; he was acting strangely, in a way she was once used to but had come to not expect since the first attack.
Och . . . that’s why he kissed me.
Understanding dawned on her all at once and a strange, deep grief caught her in its grasp.
She didn’t want to wallow in it. She didn’t want to think that Archer was using her once more, like he had when he married her, when she was just a pawn to his plans.
And yet, one thought circled her mind again and again.
He only kissed me to distract me. He just didnae want to answer me. To tell me what’s wrong.
“Out with it.”
Keir’s voice startled River. She hadn’t even known he was standing there, right by the entrance to the manicured gardens in the back of the castle—the one place that she had as her sanctuary outside of the eastern wing, and where she had now come to escape it all.
She had been thinking about Archer all day. She had been thinking about his choice to distract her, to use an intimate moment between them just so he could slip away from her and her questions.
It didn’t feel right. It wasn’t simply the fact that he didn’t want to tell her the truth that bothered her, but also his decision to distract her by bedding her instead of simply avoiding her.
And now she had to deal with Keir too, on top of everything else.
“Excuse me?”
“Out with it,” Keir repeated through gritted teeth. “Somethin’ is botherin’ ye.”
“Aye,” said River. “Ye are.”
Keir gave her an unimpressed look. “Alright! It’s me fault for askin’! Darken the entire castle with yer foul mood if ye must but ken that when Archer asks me what’s wrong with ye, because he will, all I’ll be able to tell him is how unreasonable ye are.”
River couldn’t help but sputter, rage bubbling up inside her. “Unreasonable? Why should I wish to talk to ye about anythin’?”
Keir hesitated for a moment. “Because I’m here,” he said. “And I’m askin’.”
“Aye,” said River. “Why are ye askin’? Ye never cared to ask before.”
Once more, Keir didn’t speak, though he did draw a breath as if he was going to. He remained silent for a few long moments, seemingly struggling with himself, before he finally admitted the truth.
“Archer’s actin’…oddly,” he said. “Even for him. I wanted to see if ye kent somethin’.”
River couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Ye realize ye could have just asked me instead of tryin’ to…to fight me like this.”
“I wasnae tryin’ to fight ye.”
“I disagree.”
They stared at each other in silence, until Keir was fed up with it. “Well? Do ye ken anythin’?”
“Nay,” said River. “If ye daenae ken, why should I?”
“Because he talks to ye more than he talks to me.”
“I daenae ken if that is true. I think he doesnae talk to anyone.”
Keir huffed out a laugh. “Aye, I suppose that’s true.”
Silence stretched between them once more, but this time, it was more companionable.
“Daenae fash,” Keir said then, looking out into the distance. “This is what he’s like.”
“I’m startin’ to see that.”
Just then, Layla rushed to the gardens, chased by Arya and Colby, shattering the fragile peace River had found—and the strange, even more fragile peace she had created with Keir.
The moment she appeared, though, something strange happened to his features, which contorted first with pain and then with something River could only recognize as longing.
She looked back and forth between them, understanding dawning on her.
“Do ye—”
“Nae a word,” Keir hissed, turning a stern gaze on her.
“But if—”
“Quiet.”
“I ccould—”
“Stop it.”
Just as suddenly as Layla had arrived, she was gone, followed by two screaming children. River turned to Keir, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze, like a petulant child, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
“I never thought I’d live to see the day,” she said.
“Ye may nae live if ye keep talkin’,” Keir threatened, but it was the weakest threat River had heard in her life.
There was another odd expression on Keir’s face then, and he turned to look at her, a small frown on his face.
“At least ye’re nae a gloomy cloud anymore.
Good. Daenae bring another headache to Archer. He has enough in his mind.”
“Is that all ye care about?” River asked.
Keir looked her straight in the eye. “Aye,” he said. “The clan comes first.”
“And here I thought we were makin’ progress,” she teased, only for Keir’s mouth to tick upwards in an almost-smile.
“Tell yer maid to stop screamin’,” he grumbled, though it seemed to River he was only doing it for the sake of keeping up appearances. “She’s scarin’ the merchants.”
“Tell her yerself,” River shot back, and Keir gave her one final look before turning around and walking away.
He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he did, and River didn’t miss it.