I huff a laugh, low and rough. “I wasn’t planning to look.”
Her pupils flare. A shiver runs through her—subtle, but I feel it.Christ, I feel everything.The crypt feels too small now, too alive. The air’s thick with the iron tang of blood and the ghost of something sweeter—her perfume, faint under the smoke. I could drown in it. Iwantto drown in it.
And I think she knows. Her lips part again, and that’s all it takes—one heartbeat too long, one breath too deep, one thought too late.
She doesn’t move when I lean in. Not even when my mouth brushes her jaw. Not even when my breath ghosts the blood drying there.
I don’t ask permission. I don’t need it. Not with her breath stuttering like that. My tongue drags up the faint line of red. Slow. Deliberate. She shudders so hard her knees knock mine.
“Cill…”
Christ, the sound of my name on her lips. It breaks something open in me.
“We don’t have time,” she whispers, but her hands grip my shirt like she’s terrified I’ll stop.
“I know,” I growl against her skin. “I’m not wasting a second.”
My good hand fists in the skirt of her gown and shoves it up—silk sliding over her thighs, baring the soft heat of her beneath. She gasps, half a warning, half a plea. I don’t care which one it is. My other hand—wrapped, bloodied, useless—rests against her hip. She covers it with her own, steadying me, owning me. Always has.
Her back hits the piano bench behind her, the wood creaking under the sudden weight as I step between her legs. I shove my trousers down just enough. Just enough. Because that’s all we have time for. All I need.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders. “Cillian…”
“Look at me.” My voice is barely human.
She does—eyes wide, blown, shining in the firelight. My ruin. My absolution. Myundoing. I drag her forward and sink into her in one sharp, brutal thrust. She cries out—soft, strangled, gorgeous. Her forehead drops to mine. Her breath trembles against my mouth.
“Jesus Christ, dove,” I groan, every muscle locking. “Fuaim mo chroí2… sound of my fucking heart.”
Her nails rake down my back. Her hips lift, meeting every frantic, hungry snap of mine. It’s fast—too fast—because the world above us is still burning in its own way, still full of men who want her dead.
But here? Here she’s alive. Here she’s mine.
I drive into her again, and again, the piano behind her trembling with the force. Her gasp breaks on my tongue when I kiss her—messy, frantic, tasting of fear and blood and everything I’ve ever wanted. The whole world could end above us and I swear I wouldn’t stop.
Her breath shatters against my mouth, her lips brushing mine as she tries to speak. “Fuck—Cillian—”
The way she says my name? It nearly undoes me. I slam into her again, harder, her body jolting up against the piano.
She gasps, grabs my jaw, forces me to look at her. “Don’t you dare stop,” she pants, voice shaking. “Not until I can’t remember my own name.”
A broken sound rips from my chest. Christ. She always knows exactly where to strike.
I drag my mouth down her throat, teeth catching her pulse. “Oh, I’m not stopping,a rún,” I growl against her skin. “I’ll fuck you senseless right here if you ask it.”
Her thighs clamp around my hips, dragging me deeper, pulling a curse out of me so rough it echoes off the stone. I kiss her again—messy, bruising, all tongue and desperation. She tastes like blood and silk and salvation.
Her whisper is a tremor against my lips. “Then ruin me, Cillian. Like you used to.”
Something dark snaps inside me. My hand fists in her hair, tilting her head back so I can take her mouth again, swallowing her moan. “Tá tú ag milleadh dom,3” I snarl.
“I want to,” she breathes, hips lifting to meet every savage thrust. “God, I want to.”
My forehead drops to hers as I pound into her, the bench creaking, the piano shivering behind us. “Good,” I grit out, kissing her deeper, harder. “Because you’re mine, Siobhán. Always have been.”
She whimpers—beautiful, desperate—and kisses me back like she’s starving for it, nails raking my shoulders in time with my rhythm. Our breaths tangle, break, reform. The room spins. My pulse roars in my ears.
She gasps into my mouth, “Harder—Cill—don’t hold back—”
