I watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he lets the towel drop. I can’t help but stare. He’s thick and long, already leaking at the tip.
He crawls over me, caging me in. “I've stretched you out nice and good. You'll take me.”
He notches himself at my entrance, and I tense. Why am I so nervous?
“Relax,” he soothes, kissing my jaw, my neck. “Trust me. I've got you.”
He pushes in slowly, so slowly, and the stretch is intense. I can feel every inch of him, thick and hard and unrelenting, filling me up until I'm gasping.
“Fuck, you feel incredible.” He groans. “Hot and tight and perfect. Made for me, weren't you?”
“Yes…” I breathe, adjusting to the fullness. “Made for you.”
He stills, giving me time to adjust, his forehead pressed to mine.
“I've dreamed about this. About being inside you. About making you mine.”
I cup his scarred face in my hands. “I'm yours. I've always been yours.”
His expression softens to raw and vulnerable, and then he's moving. Long, deep strokes hit something devastating inside me, and I'm already building toward another orgasm.
“That's it, love. Take every inch of this cock. Show me how good you can be for me.”
I wrap my legs around his waist, letting him go deeper, and he curses.
“Not going to last,” he grits out. “You feel too fucking good.”
“Then don't.” I pull him down for a kiss. “Come inside me. Make me yours.”
He groans like I've gutted him and starts moving faster, harder, the bed frame rocking against the wall.
“Shh,” I say, stifling a laugh. “Your cousins—your aunt, your uncle…”
“No one will hearus up here.”
His hand slides between us, finding my clit, and I'm coming again, clenching around him so hard he groans.
“Bianca—fuck.”
He buries himself deep and comes, and I can feel him pulsing inside me, filling me, marking me from the inside out. He’s muttering Irish endearments, my name, and words that sound like prayers.
Finally, he collapses on top of me, careful not to crush me, and I hold him tight. We're both breathing hard, damp and warm, and I've never felt more complete.
“I love you,” I whisper into his ear. “I love you so much it scares me.”
He lifts his head, and there are actual tears in his eyes. “I love you more than I knew it was possible to love another person. You've unmade me, lass. Completely fuckin’ unmade me.”
He kisses me softly this time. “Mine,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Yours,” I agree. “Alwaysyours.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ashland
I wakebefore dawn like I always do, but this time there's warmth pressed against me. Bianca's curled into my side, one hand resting on my chest, her breathing slow and even.
Christ, I could watch her sleep for hours.
