Page 76 of Taken By the Devilish Highlander
“Archer,” she gasped, and she dropped her head to his chest, hugging him. It made him grunt, and she quickly pulled away.
“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m just so happy ye are awake.”
“Do that again,” he said, and the confident tone of his voice sent a little spark through Feya’s stomach. She rested her head on his chest, gently this time, and Archer’s arms closed around her, engulfing her in his embrace.
“Ye came back.”
She glanced at him, wondering if she could voice everything she was feeling. There were so many things she wanted to tell him. So much competing in her chest, fighting to be the first words through her lips.
“I had to,” she said simply. He grinned at her, his eyes flashing with a knowing look.
“Aye? And why is that?”
“Ye ken,” Feya said, and she dropped her face against his arm, suddenly shy. A low chuckle made his chest shake, and Archer reached a finger to her chin, making her look up at him. She saw his eyes dart to the bruise around her right eye and across her cheekbone.
“I want to hear ye say it,” he said. His voice was low, filled with longing and desire. Feya felt her cheeks grow warm, the air around them crackling with something alive between them.
“Ye first,” she challenged, though it took all her control not to burst out her protestations of love. “Ye must speak of your feelings, remember? Ye must put word to your thoughts.”
“Still trying to heal me, are ye?” He laughed. His thumb brushed against her lower lip, and Feya gasped at the sensation. How could such a simple touch send heat down to her toes? Now she couldn’t speak if she wanted to. Luckily, Archer didn’t make her wait much longer.
“I love ye,” he said. “I ken it more certainly than anythin’ else in me life. I love ye, Feya Webster.”
“I love ye,” she gasped. She pulled his hand to her mouth and kissed his fist, his wrist, his fingers, desperate to show him thetruth of her words. “It’s why I couldnae stay away. I couldnae bear to be without ye.”
“Daenae worry,” he said. His hand slipped down her neck, running the backs of his fingers along the sensitive skin. “I willnae let ye out of me sight ever again.”
Archer pushed his fingers into her hair and guided her forward, forcing Feya to lean over his bed, locking his eyes with hers. Her heart practically beat out of her chest as he pulled her closer, ever so slowly, until he finally guided her lips to his eager mouth.
He pulled her on top of him, even though his shoulder screamed with the effort. But he didn’t care about the pain, he only cared about holding Feya against him, about being near her.
“You’ll hurt yourself,” she cried, as he slid her across his chest, and yet her legs opened to straddle him. She pressed her hips into his as she brought her mouth back down, relaxing into the kiss. Archer’s hands wandered across her back as they kissed lazily. He brushed aside her hair and ran his fingers down her spine. Then his hands cupped her backside, pulling her more forcefully against the hardening length shielded only by the thin fabric of his tunic.
“Wait,” she cried, laughing at him. She pulled her mouth away and stared down, giving him her stern healer expression. “We cannae. Ye only just woke up from battle.”
“All the more reason,” he smirked. He nipped at her neck, delighting in the sighs of pleasure they elicited. “A celebration of being alive.”
Archer pushed his hips up, frustrated by the fabric of her skirts, but he saw her eyes open wider, saw her recognize just how eager he was for her.
“Ye certainly feel alive,” she laughed, and her voice caught with desire. But then she began to move off of him, lifting her hips away. “But ye must heal. Healer’s orders.”
With a burst of energy, Archer flipped Feya onto her back, hovering his face over hers. She looked up with surprise, but the gesture had achieved its intended goal. All hesitation had disappeared from Feya’s eyes. Instead, she looked up at him with eagerness, her mouth dropping open as her chest heaved, waiting for his next move.
“Maybe ye are strong enough,” she gasped, and Archer dropped his mouth to hers to show her how healthy he felt. He held himself above her as he pressed his tongue into her mouth, as he ran a hand down to her chest, roughly pulling at the fabric that contained her perfect breasts.
Suddenly, they were desperate for each other, gasping and kissing with abandon. He was pleased when Feya helped him, when she reached behind to release the ties of her gown.
“Aye,” he growled as he stared at her. “I want to see ye. I want to see all of ye.”
Her breath caught in her throat, and he saw her heart beat in her neck. He pressed his lips against the spot, then let his tongue travel down until he could feel the roundness of her breast. Between the two of them, they shed her dress, throwing it to the bottom of the bed where the blankets had already been discarded.
Feya wore only a thin shift, her dark hair against the pillow. He stared down at her with the gaze of a man who had found his love, who had found the thing most precious in the world. Part of him wanted to stay there, to stare at her forever, but a more pressing need was building between his legs.
He smirked at her and reached for the hem of her shift, running his hand up her thigh and then higher, across her stomach so he could cup her breast. Feya’s hands roamed across his back and around his neck, pulling at the fabric of his tunic. She pulled his mouth back down to her as she pressed her chest into his palm, her nipple hardening against him.
But it wasn’t enough. He needed to see her. He needed all barriers of fabric removed. He leaned back on his knees and pushed the shift up and over her head, finally letting his eyes have their fill of her. He took in the flush of red across her neck and her chest, the pink puckering of her nipples. He let his eyes roam down her stomach and to the space between her legs, a hint of moisture clinging to her lips.
He grew harder, his length barely concealed by his shirt, and he pulled the fabric over his head, leaving them both naked. Feya’s eyes dropped to his length, and he saw her pull her bottom lipbetween her teeth, raise a hand over her head as she gripped for the pillow.
