Page 90 of Wedded to the Devilish Highlander
“Aye, perhaps,” Archer muttered.
“I mean it,” Eileen insisted.
She’d seen firsthand what a good man he was. How different he was from the man he was made out to be.
“I do, too,” Archer said. “That’s the truth. Dinnae ask me how I ken, but I feel it inside. Do ye ken why I was such a rake?”
“DoI want to ken?” Eileen raised an eyebrow.
“It’s ‘cause I wanted to feel somethin’ else,” Archer continued anyway. “Since me faither passed, there’s been a pain in me gut—in me heart. When I’m with a woman, I can feel somethin’ else for a little while. It was a distraction and nothin’ more. Since I told ye about me faither, me pain feels different. It’s changed somehow. I dinnae need to forget it as much.”
Eileen felt like crying, both for the pain he still held inside and the way he spoke to her, as if she were the most special woman in the world.
“Ye must still have some pain inside ye,” she commented. “I mean, all of that pain cannae have disappeared. Are ye sure ye dinnae need a distraction?”
When she looked at him, he grinned back at her.
“I’ve been yearnin’ to put me hands on ye for days now, but it’s never been the right time,” Archer murmured.
Again, he made her feel like the most special woman in the world.
“Ye have me all to yerself now,” she reminded him.
Archer reached over and took the cup from her, placing it and his own on the soft grass by the blanket. Then, he cupped her cheek in his hand as she leaned back, rose onto his knees, and kissed her like never before.
It was the same in every way: their lips met, their tongues wrestled with each other, and their heads moved. But this kiss had a newness to it, a rawness. It wasn’t purely physical this time, but emotional—spiritual. It wasn’t their lips that connected, but their souls.
Eileen reached out her hand and grabbed his shirt. She only meant to wrinkle it, but she found herself ripping it open instead and baring his wide chest. She placed one hand on the blanket to steady herself and the other on his chest, running her fingers through the tufts of hair.
A powerful need shot through her, and she tugged at his chest hair to pull him closer.
Archer grunted, and she let go, opening her eyes. He lowered her onto the blanket, swung his leg over like he was mounting a horse, and looked down at her.
“Is that how it’s goin’ to be?” he asked.
“I didnae mean to hurt ye.” She winced.
“Nay, ye didnae hurt me. Ye only surprised me. Still, I cannae let ye tear me clothes and grab me hair, can I?”
“Aye?” Eileen arched an eyebrow. “And what will ye do to me?”
“How about this, for starters?”
She didn’t know how he did it, but he reached down to the hem of her dress, shifted her body, and pulled it over her head, leaving her in nothing but her boots. She shivered as the cold breeze from the river hit her, but warmed quickly under the roaring sun.
“Aye, that’s better,” Archer said.
He looked down at her as if surveying his lands, running his eyes from her neck to her thighs and back up again.
“It’s all yers,” Eileen breathed.
“Aye, it is,” he agreed, his voice rough.
I want it to be yers nae just for now. I want to give it all to ye.
“Then take it,” she urged.
As she said the words, goosebumps rose all over her skin, and wetness pooled in her core.
