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Fiona’s eyes meet mine, wide, blue, and trusting.
“I mind it less when it’s you,” she confesses quietly.
I grin at her. It’s progress, and I’ll take it where I can. Tugging her to me, I lower my mouth to meet hers. Fiona moans as our tongues tangle, scrambling into my lap as our mouths remain fused together.
Her bandage tickles the back of my neck as her good hand slides down my chest, stopping to caress my pecs and abs through my T-shirt, moving to unbuckle my belt. My dick leaps, straining against my zipper.
Ignoring him, my hands tangle into Fiona’s silky hair, tipping her head for better access to her mouth while I feast on it. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how sweet Fiona tastes.
It takes a bit of fumbling, but she finally gets my belt undone and my jeans unbuttoned. I groan as Fiona’s fingers reach in and skim feather-light up my shaft. They curl around me, starting to pump, and my fingers tighten in her hair.
Since Fiona was injured, I’ve tried to be hands-off to give her time to recover, so I’m letting her call the shots now. My fingers don’t leave her hair as she firmly works me over with her dainty hand.
Fiona doesn’t move to alter our embrace, so I keep kissing her, groaning into her mouth as my hips jerk beneath her, thrusting into her talented hand.
“Jaysus feck,leannán, I’m close,” I groan into her mouth.
“I know,” Fiona whispers, tracing her tongue along my lower lip. Her breathy tone is full of smugness, and her hand tightens, almost imperceptibly, as she keeps up her rhythm. I press my forehead against hers as I grunt, coming all over our stomachs.
“Shit,mo chroí,” I groan, glancing down at the fucking mess of fabric between us.
“I don’t know what that one means,” Fiona murmurs, her eyes burning into my face. My eyes move back up to meet hers, and I realize she’s talking about me calling hermo chroí.
“Not sweetheart,” I smirk at her. Fiona grins back.
“Good, because I’m still not.” She glances down between us and giggles. “Clean up on aisle three.”
I shake my head, casting a rueful look at her bandages.
“It’s a pity I can’t offer a joint shower,mo chroí,” I murmur. Fiona grins impishly at me.
“It is a pity. But I suppose you could always shower, and then I’ll let you help me with a sponge bath.”
My eyes snap back up to hers, my mouth dry. “I think I can manage that. After all, I owe you an orgasm.”
“Yes, you do,” Fiona laughs.
Standing, I keep her in my arms, striding into the bathroom, my mind full of ways that I can turn her sponge bath naughty.
Chapter Sixteen
FIONA
Groaning, I blink awake, my head swiveling.
“Feck.” Ronan’s arms release me as he rolls over, snatching his phone off the nightstand, swiping to answer, and silence the loud noise. “Aye?”
Ronan rubs his forefinger and thumb over his eyes, waking himself up. I squint at the window. The early morning sun is barely struggling to come through, and I think it’s snowing. It’s Christmas. Stupidly early, but Christmas morning.
Rolling over, I smile at Ronan, but he isn’t looking at me or telling whoever it is to fuck off. He snaps alert immediately, springing out of bed.
“I’ll be right there!”
Ronan grabs some clothes as I watch, stepping into them and shoving his phone into his pocket. Bending over me, he brushes a quick kiss over my lips.
“I’m sorry I won’t be here for the doctor’s visit. I’ll be back in time for lunch at Niall’s,leannán. Ye stay here.”
“Where are you going? What’s happening?” I call after him, but he’s already gone, the front door slamming behind him.
