I pushed into her slow.
She was tight and hot and soaked, and the sound she made as I filled her, low and broken and completely unmuffled, set my jaw against the work of going slow when everything in me wanted all of it at once. I seated myself to the hilt, felt her flutter around me, dropped my forehead to hers, and breathed.
"Okay?"
"You need to move. Right now. Immediately."
"So bossy."
"Tiernan."
I drew back and drove forward and swallowed her gasp out of her mouth.
I set a deep rolling pace and she met every stroke, hips lifting, hands sliding from my back to my arse to pull me in harder, her whole body telling me what it wanted with the same eloquence as the rest of her. I gave it to her. I drove into her harder. Her head fell back, her mouth dropped open, her nails dragged down my spine.
"Yes. Like that. Don't stop."
"Not stopping," I said into her throat. "You feel incredible. God, the way you take me."
She made a sound that wasn't a word, hips snapping up to meet mine. I reached between us and found her clit with my thumb, and she cried out.
"Too much. It's too much, I can't."
"Yes you can." I kept my thumb moving in tight circles. "You can take it. Give me one more, pretty girl. Come on."
"Tiernan." Her voice cracked. "Tiernan, I'm going to."
"I know. I've got you. Let go."
She shattered.
Her body went rigid and then broke apart under me, clamping down on me in long pulses, a sound tearing out of her that was my name and something in Irish and something that was neither. I drove deep and held as it ripped through her, and then it took me too, buried as far as I could get, her name in my mouth, my whole body going with it.
I came down over her and she took my weight without a word, both of us breathing like we'd run for miles.
Her hand came up and found the back of my neck. Just rested there. Warm, deliberate, specific.
I turned my head and she turned hers, and we were very close in the low firelight, and she was undone. All the careful management gone. Just Sienna, soft and open in a way I hadn't earned yet and fully intended to.
"You're going to make this complicated," she said.
"Almost certainly."
She let her head fall back to the pillow.
"Worth it, though," she said. So quietly I nearly missed it.
Nearly.
"Yeah," I said. "It is."
She didn't say anything else. Neither did I.
Outside, the sea kept on the way it always had, the one sound that had followed her through every room she'd ever slept in.
She was asleep before I was.
I lay in the dark and listened to her breathe. I thought about a bar in Chicago on a Tuesday and a woman who poured me her dead father's whiskey without knowing why it landed the way it did. I thought about Ronan downstairs not sleeping, and Cormac somewhere in the house keeping his own counsel, and the three of us, and all the years that had funneled every one of us into this one room on this one night.
