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I thread my fingers through his hair, gripping tight as I pull his face close—close enough to feel his breath hitch, to taste the anticipation lingering between us. My mouth hovers just above his, the barest brush of a tease.

“Hands off,” I murmur.

Then I drag my tongue along the sharp line of his jaw, slow and claiming, savouring the tremble that rips through his body beneath mine.

“You don’t move them… you don’t touch me,” I whisper against his skin, “unless I say so.”

He surges forward, mouth angling to claim mine in a kiss, but I pull back just in time, a wicked smile tugging at my lips.

“Ah, ah…” I murmur, voice like velvet and fire. “Hands and lips… off limits.”

The denial lands like a lash. He lets out a primal sound—half growl, half moan—and the sheer depth of it sends a jolt through me. My nipples tighten in response, betraying just how much his desperation is feeding my own.

I press my lips to his ear, my breath a wicked caress. “Now tell me,” I breathe, “what you want. What you need. What you crave.”

His voice rasps against my skin. “I want you to ride me, mo ghrá. Take me deep, stretch yerself around me, make me feel the squeeze of that perfect cunt until I’m lost in you. I want to feel you drench me, want you to squeeze me so tight I cannae think of anythin’ but how good it feels to be buried inside you.”

I shift, placing both of my hands on his outstretched thighs. I press my slick heat against his length, teasing him as I roll my hips, savouring the tortured groan that rumbles from his throat. “I love when you take me,” I murmur, voice thick with need. “When you fill me until I’m stretched tight around you. Until I’m drenched and ruined for anything but this.”

I feel crazed, driven by a need so consuming that it eclipses all sense of propriety. “I want your cock to fill me until I can scarcely breathe.”

His breath shudders out of him. His eyes are dark—molten heat and restraint—watching me like a man on the edge.

“Aye,” he grits, his voice rough and nearly feral. “And I’m hangin’ by a bloody thread.” His brogue thicker now, like it’s unravelling with him.

I roll my hips again, deliberately slow, dragging myself across the thick length of him with enough friction to draw a low, tortured groan from his throat. His hips jerk, seeking more, but I lift myself just enough to deny him.

“Ye’re testin’ my patience, you wicked little minx. Do that again and I’ll have you on your back before you can finish another sentence.”

I let out a soft laugh, pleased by the way his control slips beneath my hips. “Easy, there,” I whisper, dragging my nails lightly down his chest. “I’m just sitting here…”

“Triona,” he growls, my name a warning, a plea, a reminder that he’s seconds away from snapping

But I don’t relent.

Instead, I shift again—rolling my hips with more pressure this time, slow but devastating, and his breath catches violently. The muscles in his thighs twitch under me.

“You’re shaking,” I whisper. “So close to breaking. I can feel it.”

His hands twitch, trembling with restraint, and I see him bite down on a curse.

“I want you,” he growls, like the effort to hold himself still is fraying at the edges.

I pause, heart stammering beneath the intensity of his gaze. There’s something unholy in it—wild and reverent, all-consuming.

I reach for his face, brushing my thumb across his cheekbone, and press soft kisses along his jaw. Then I lean in, my mouth barely grazing the shell of his ear.

“Let go,” I whisper, then softly nip at his earlobe and neck. “You can touch me now.”

He moves in a flash, gripping my waist to pull me up as he aligns himself. The thick, aching length of him sliding through my slickness, teasing me, tormenting me. My breath hitches as I feel the broad head press against my entrance, a delicious, torturous pressure.

As he pushes inside, a moan escapes my lips at the exquisite stretch, the delicious fullness felt by him sheathing himself to the hilt inside my aching quim.

“Tri,” he growls, desire thick in his voice. “Ye’re a vision. A goddess made flesh.”

I lift my hips eagerly, driving down onto him and taking him to the limit of my body’s pleasure. We both cry out at the exquisite sensation, his length stretching and filling me in a way that blurs my senses.

With a sensual rhythm, I move, rolling my hips in a motion that has us both gasping with pleasure. Finn’s hands roam my body, caressing my breasts and tweaking my sensitive nipples, sending sparks of desire racing through my veins. I lean forward, bracing my hands on his broad chest as I ride him harder, faster, chasing the building ecstasy.