Chapter 30 #2
River didn’t speak, and Archer knew it was because she, too, felt the same about herself.
It was strange, he thought, how fate had brought them together and made them both parents when they both doubted their abilities to parent so much.
Here they were, both of them, clinging to the hope that they would be different from their parents, that their child would never grow up to fear or be in pain.
“Me faither…he was a cruel man,” he said, and it felt like a relief to finally open up to someone about this.
“Ye ken some of it but…but ye daenae ken the worst of it. I was never his son, River. I was his heir, naethin’ but a pawn to his plans.
And as long as I was alive and fit to rule one day, he didnae care what happened to me.
He didnae care enough to nae take his frustrations out on me. ”
When he was a young child, his mother had protected him. She had turned herself into a shield, taking every beating, every one of his father’s tantrums instead of him. But when she passed, there was no one left to protect him anymore.
He had to learn to protect himself, and so he did.
“River…I never want to be like me faither.”
The look of sympathy on River’s face was almost enough to break him. She reached out with her arms and pulled him closer to her, and Archer settled next to her in bed, curling up by her side, soaking in all the comfort he could.
He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had held him like this. Probably never, he thought, not since his mother had died.
“Ye could never be like yer faither,” she assured him. “That’s nae the kind of man ye are.”
“That’s why I didnae wish to have bairns,” he said. “That and…and because I didnae think we were ready, as a clan. I havenae fixed everythin’ that me faither ruined.”
“The clan is doin’ fine, Archer,” River said. “Look at yer people…they all love ye. There nasnae been any real conflict in years. We’re at peace.”
It was true, Archer knew. Everything River was saying was true, and he had no plans to change any of it, to plunge the clan back into pointless wars. Diplomacy was working far better for them than any war ever had. And yet, he couldn’t convince himself yet that it was enough.
He supposed it was better that way. A leader who decided he had done enough for his people would undoubtedly soon turn into a terrible leader.
“Forgive me…for leavin’ like that the other day,” he said then, tilting his head up to look at River. “ thought it would be safer if I kept meself far away from ye. Now with the bairn…I didnae want ye to be in any danger.”
And yet she had been, more than Archer could have ever imagined. She had been in so much danger and he had been oblivious to it, keeping himself away from her only to leave her defenceless against Finlay.
It would have been better if he had stayed by her side. Then none of this would have happened.
“Daenae think about all that now,” River said gently, her sweet voice a whisper in his ear. “Daenae blame yerself. Ye said it…it’s all over now. There is naethin’ for ye to fash about.”
Archer looked at her, staring into her eyes in the dark. She was so beautiful, so radiant, even after everything she had been through. He couldn’t resist the urge to pull her into another kiss, and when he felt her relax against him, melting into it, he gathered her into his arms to keep her close.
“I love ye, mo ghraidh,” he whispered into her ear, burying his face in her shoulder. She still smelled faintly of smoke, but underneath that there was nothing but her scent, sweet and floral and intoxicating. “I should have told ye sooner. I should have told ye more often.”
“Well, ye can do that now,” River said, a teasing look in her eyes. She kissed him again, arching off the bed to meet his lips, and Archer held her tightly, never wanting to let her go.
He craved her. He wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by her—by her touch, her scent, her body, plunging himself into her depths to bring her to pleasure.
Her hands roamed all over his body, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles over his clothes, each touch igniting him, driving mad with lust. Archer slipped under the covers with her, his hands reaching for the swell of her breast, so eager to touch, to consume her whole.
River’s response was instant. She moved softly, the sound forcing Archer to buck his hips, his manhood already hardening in his trews.
Even he had trouble believing the effect River had on him.
No other woman had ever made him feel this way.
No other woman could make him go wild with nothing more than a look, a touch, nothing more than her presence by his side.
“I want ye,” Archer said, his voice coming out rough and hardened.
River nodded, and he felt the gesture more than he saw it in the dark; it was all the permission he needed.
With urgent fingers, he reached under River’s shift and found her bare skin, his palm brushing over her stomach, her ribs, to finally settle over her breast. She was so warm under him, so alive, twisting and turning to get more of his touch, to get more pleasure out of him, and he was glad to give it to her.
His fingers pinched her nipple, drawing a gasp out of her, and Archer could already imagine how wet she would be once he touched her folds.
For a moment, he pulled back to rid himself of his clothes.
He didn’t want anything to be between them two of them—nothing but skin and flesh, nothing but their bodies becoming one.
He all but ripped off his shirt and trews, tossing them to the floor, and then he quickly removed River’s shift as well, leaving her nude under him.
When his body met hers, it was as if he suddenly came alive.
River’s hands found his waist, delicate fingernails digging into his flesh. He hissed at the slight sting, his lips curling into a smile, and he responded by reaching between her legs to find that spot that always made her toes curl and her head fall back in pleasure, circling it once, then twice.
The effect was instant. River moaned, her legs falling open on instinct, letting Archer slip his hand even lower, to her entrance.
There, she was just as wet as he had imagined, his fingers slipping inside her with no resistance to rub and tease her walls, thrusting them all the way to the knuckle just to see her squirm under him.
“Is this what ye want, me love?” he asked her, and River nodded frantically.
He watched her as he pleasured her, watched the way her body undulated to get him deeper inside her, the way her breasts swung with every movement of her body.
He could watch her all night, he could simply stare at her as he pleasured her, just listen to her as she was lost in her passion, and it would be more than enough for him.
Archer leaned back, sitting on his heels, and pushed the covers back to reveal River’s body fully.
He pleasured her with his fingers, pumping them inside her slowly to coax more of her wetness from her, while his other hand caressed her body—her hip, the curve of her waist, her breast, her shoulder, then back down her arm.
“Archer, please…” River gasped, reaching for him. “Please, I need ye.”
She didn’t need to say anything else. Archer was in no mood to tease her, not now, not when all he wanted was to feel close to her. Instead, he wrapped his hand around himself and gave himself a few strokes, his fingers still wet from her entrance, before finally pushing slowly deep inside of her.
That was all it took for River to be completely lost in her pleasure, her fingernails scratching at his back as Archer pushed himself to the hilt inside her.
She was so tight around him, her walls clenching with every small thrust of his hips, trying to keep him close, her body never wanting to let go.
She was so warm, like fire incarnate, and Archer found himself never wanting to let go of her either.
Each thrust of his hips, each push deeper inside her had him gasping in pleasure. Her moans filled the air, and Archer angled his hips just right just to hear her make more of those sounds, to listen to the beautiful lilt of her voice when she called his name.
Archer knew he wouldn’t last. Each thrust, each slide of his length against her tight entrance brought him closer and closer to completion, and he wanted nothing more than to make her reach her orgasm first. He grabbed her hips in his hands, his grip firm as he slowed down his rhythm, but at the same time deepened it, their bodies meeting firmly with each thrust.
That drove River wild, just like he knew it would.
She clung desperately to him, moaning his name again and again, and when she finally reached her climax, Archer could feel it in the way she tightened around him, the clench and release of her walls pushing him over the edge, too, until he was spilling deep inside her.
Afterwards, he collapsed next to her on the bed and promptly gathered her in his arms. River cuddled against him, curling up in his embrace, and relaxed him with a soft sigh.
Every now and then, her body shook with the aftershocks of her orgasm, and Archer petted her through it, pressing a soft kiss to her hair.
“Was that alright?” he teased in the quiet that followed.
River laughed softly, nodding. Her hair tickled his nose as she did, and Archer couldn’t help but chuckle. “More than alright.”
“I’m glad,” Archer said, and then let himself succumb to the fatigue that finally claimed him. He had been so anxious the whole day, so high-strung that he hadn’t realized how late it was or how tired he was.
But now he was content. There was nothing left for him to do. River was safe, in his arms, and that was the only thing that mattered.