Page 64 of Wedded to the Devilish Highlander
He kept his thumb pressed to her clit, rubbing slow, firm circles that had her climbing higher and higher, her thighs trembling against his hips.
She clung to him, panting, moaning his name like a prayer, her body desperate, frantic, overwhelmed.
“Archer,” she gasped.
“Aye, that’s a good lass,” he murmured against her temple, pumping his finger faster, deeper. “Let go for me.”
She didn’t know what to think. Didn’t know what any of it meant. She just felt like she was on the precipice of exploding into a million pieces.
“Come for me,mo chridhe.”
The command, low and rough and utterly possessive, shattered her.
Pleasure detonated through her in a blinding, violent rush, stealing the breath from her lungs. She cried out, clinging to him as her body convulsed around his fingers, the waves crashing over her again and again, endless and devastating.
Archer held her through it, his body braced over hers, whispering broken, desperate things in her ear.
“That’s it, lass. Look at ye… so damned beautiful…”
Slowly, the tremors ceased, leaving her boneless and quivering in his arms.
He withdrew his finger with a groan, brought it to his mouth without hesitation, and sucked it clean with a low, savage noise that made her whimper all over again.
“I’ll never get enough of ye,” he said roughly, his green eyes blazing down at her.
Eileen reached for him blindly, pulling him down to her, needing the weight of him, the heat of him, the safety of his body covering hers.
Archer gathered her close, wrapping her in his arms and tracing lazy circles over her hip.
He felt her shiver and smiled against her hair.
“Did I ruin ye?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, thickened by his burr.
Eileen let out a shaky laugh, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “I dinnae ken.”
The low laugh that rumbled in his chest vibrated against her cheek, sending another shiver through her.
He turned his head, pressing a kiss to her temple, then another to the shell of her ear. His hand slipped lower still, kneading the soft flesh of her thigh, coaxing it over his waist.
Eileen gasped when she felt him between her legs—hard, hot, throbbing.
Archer groaned. “I’m mad for ye, lass.”
Before she could say a word, he rolled them gently, settling between her thighs once more.
He rocked his hips slowly, letting her feel the full length of him through the thin barrier of their clothing. The friction made her whimper, her fingers clutching his shoulders for purchase.
“Ye feel that?” he murmured against her lips. “That’s what ye do to me. Always.”
Eileen arched into him helplessly, her entire body alight with need once again.
Need.
Again.
Archer slid one hand between them, cupping her through the damp fabric of her shift, rubbing slow, firm circles that made her throw her head back against the pillows.
She could feel herself unraveling all over again, faster this time, with no defense against the relentless pleasure he was wringing from her.
