He chuckled low in his throat—a dark and tired sound—and without thinking, he drew her closer to him. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her up to straddle his thighs.
He could feel the erratic pounding of her heart through the thin fabric between them. Could smell the sweet scent in the hollow at the base of her throat. Could see the way her lashes fluttered when she lifted her gaze to his.
The urge to kiss her again, to taste her and lose himself in her, slammed into him with terrifying force. But he fought back… barely.
Eileen tilted her chin up and said, “Stay.”
His breath shuddered out of him, his core tightening. He didn’t trust himself. Didn’t trust that in the next few moments, he would not pin her to the bed and take her. However, he knew that he would never hurt her and never take more than she was willing to give.
So, he reached out and cupped her cheek in his calloused palm. “I’ll stay,” he rasped.
At least for a while…
18
Eileen didn’t move when he said he would stay.
Instead, she leaned a little closer to him, her head resting against his chest, right over his frantically beating heart.
Archer froze, holding her in his arms like something precious and breakable. His hand slid around and into her hair, cradling her head as if shielding her from the world.
“Ye should rest,” he murmured, though he didn’t believe a word.
Neither of them moved.
The fire crackled low in the grate, filling the silence enveloping them. Then, she tilted her head back to look at him, and he was lost.
Her eyes searched his, full of something so raw that it stole the breath from his lungs.
Neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of his tunic, tugging him toward her.
It was all the invitation he needed.
Archer pressed his lips to hers slowly, as if giving her every chance to change her mind.
She didn’t.
Their lips met in a kiss so gentle, so reverent, that it undid him completely. He kissed her like a man starved.
He wanted every inch of her.
Eileen sighed into his mouth, her hands sliding up to cradle his face, pulling him closer, urging him deeper.
The soft sound she made when his tongue traced the seam of her lips broke something inside him.
He deepened the kiss, gripping her hips firmly against him.
She broke the kiss and leaned back, and he watched her, waiting.
“Ye have nay idea what ye do to me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Eileen’s lashes fluttered. “Show me,” she whispered back.
Lord above.
He kissed her again, harder now, devouring her mouth with slow, aching strokes, savoring every shiver that ran through her.