She doesn’t deny it. Her jaw clenches. Her thighs tremble. Then I scoop her into my arms like she weighs nothing. Not that she fights me. No, she folds into me like I’m carved from safety and sin. Her fingers curl in my shirt, clinging to it like she’s afraid I’ll vanish.
"Where are we going?" she whispers, lips brushing my throat.
"To my bed, my dove" I murmur against the crown of her head. "Where good girls go to behave... orbeg."
I lower my mouth to her chest, I suck hard, biting just enough to hear her hiss—then soothe it with my tongue. She arches against me, moaning soft and high, eyes wild.
"You taste like fuckin’ honey and holy sin," I groan. "Sweet and blasphemous all at once."
Her thighs shift around my waist. She’s panting, a string of Irish curses under her breath—“Dia diabhal é... Fliuch mé… Cillian, mo chroí—”3
I drop her onto the bed and follow her down, covering her body with mine but still not giving her what she wants.
"You want to come,darling?" My voice is a rasp, thick and low. I kiss the underside of her jaw, trace a line down her sternum, settling between her thighs. "Show me how desperate you are."
She grips my wrist, shoving my hand between her legs. I don’t fight her. Not at first. I let her grind against my fingers, but just when she’s on the edge—eyes fluttering, breath breaking—I stop.
“No,” I say roughly. “Not yet.”
She lets out a broken sob. I kiss her again. Hard. Deep. Until she’s dazed and ruined beneath me.
Then I pull back and grab her chin, tilting her face toward mine. "I have a meeting with Rouge. Ten minutes, max." I brush my thumb across her bottom lip. "Be a good girl, and maybe I’ll come back and finish wrecking you proper."
She pouts, curling into the pillow. Her hand starts drifting south again.
“I can keep myself occupied while you're gone,” she teases.
I growl. “Don't you fucking dare.”
She smirks, fingers moving anyway. I growl, hand running down my face as I tear myself away. I turn, eyes closed until I’m at the door, fists clenched, breathing fire.
I am so fucking wrecked for her.
1.God help me, my heart.
2.My Love
3.“God damn it... I'm wet... Cillian, my love—”
