“Good girl. Just like that,” he praised.
Her descent continued lower until she reached the delicate lace ridge of her panties. She hesitated, as if asking a silent question:Here?
Flynn’s eye contact didn’t waver as he nodded, “Go on, lass.”
Heather bit her lip seductively as she dipped her hand below her panties, gasping at her own slick heat, slowly moving her fingers in rhythmic circles over her aching bundle of nerves.
Flynn’s breathing accelerated into a rapid pace.
“Fuck, Heather.” A bead of sweat was forming on his temple. “This is sohot.”
Oh.
This was delicious.
Game on.
She writhed, grinding her hips into him, responding to the pleasure of her own touch. The air wooshed out of Flynn’s lungs as the hard evidence of his arousal twitched against the small of her back in response.
“Is this what you want?” Heather crooned innocently. “You want to see what you do to me?”
He nodded, wordlessly.
She sagged against him, moaning, as she continued pleasuring herself, never breaking eye contact with him in his reflection.
“You. Are. Everything.” Flynn rasped.
“Touch me.” Heather commanded.
With trembling hands, he complied.
Flynn palmed her breasts, gently squeezing as he settled his lips on the frantic pulse under her ear. Planting blazing hotkisses down the column of her neck, one hand reached and settled at her throat, gently pinning her in place.
“Come for me.” he breathed into the shell of her ear.
Oh. My. God.
This is it. I’m done for.
“Flynn—” Heather panted. “—I love you.”
“I love you, mo chridhe,” he whispered while gently tightening his grip on her throat. “Let go for me.”
So she did.
The cry that ripped from her settled over Flynn like a blessing meant only for him. He caught her as her knees gave, wrapping his arms tightly around her body. He held her through every shuddering breath as he pressed his forehead to her shoulder— his breathing was just as unsteady as hers.
“I’ve got you,” he gently assured her.
Heather turned, pressing her face into Flynn’s chest, fingers curling in his shirt. The mirror reflected them tangled together, flushed and breathless, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.
Flynn kissed her forehead softly, then her temple.
“Come here,” he whispered.
And this time, when he led her to his bed, there was nothing restrained about it at all.
She lay curled into him, their legs tangled, his heartbeat slowingbeneath her cheek. The fire popped softly in the other room, the sound distant and comforting, like it belonged to another life; one without secrets and maps and men who hunted legends.
