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“Mmm,” she hums in her throat, her breathing hitching.
My hands tighten on her waist in anticipation. As the elevator dings and the door opens, I swing her into my arms, striding along the hallway to our door. Fiona is laughing the whole time, clinging to my neck.
“What on earth are you doing?” she manages through her delicious giggles. I grin down at her.
“Carrying my wife across the threshold of our home.”
Pink spills across her cheeks as she ducks her head with pleasure.
“Wife,” she mumbles, and my heart swells with pride.
“Yes, ye are,” I rumble back, getting another giggle. Swinging the door open, I carry Fiona across the threshold.
She glances around in surprise. Liam cleaned more than his bedroom and the main bathroom. The kitchen is practically sparkling, and there’s a nice bunch of flowers on the kitchen island.
Fiona twists in my arms to look at them, but I continue striding through the condo into the bedroom. Laying Fiona gently on the bed, my eyes rake down the gorgeous floaty white dress with lace at the collar and cuffs Mellie dropped off for Fiona this morning.
I go down on one knee and unbuckle her silver shoes. Fiona pushes up on her elbows, watching me with hooded eyes.
Dropping the shoes onto the floor, I sit on the bed and carefully pluck all the pins from her hair, combing it with my fingers until it tumbles around her flushed face. Gorgeous.
Cupping her neck, I draw her close for a tender kiss. Before she can deepen it, I pull away. Fiona doesn’t speak, watching me with burning bright eyes as I unbutton her dress and slide it off her shoulders.
My breath catches. Fiona isn’t wearing lingerie. She’s wearing a plain white cotton bra and panty set. Just like she did the night we spent together at her apartment. My fingers brush over the strap at her shoulder, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
“Ye dressed up for me,leannán,” I whisper. Fiona grins, her hand coming up so her fingers can play with the lapel on my suit jacket.
“I thought you might like these,” she whispers back. Her other hand comes up, pushing my jacket off my shoulders, her fingers moving to loosen my tie.
Fiona fumbles a bit with the buttons of my shirt, but I patiently sit there, waiting for her to get my shirt off. Once my chest is bare, I stand, kicking off my shoes and losing my socks and belt. I shuck my trousers, crawling onto the bed, tipping Fiona back until she’s lying down.
My eyes drift over the gorgeous sight of my stunning wife laid over the bed, wearing her bra and panties, tousled hair spread across the sheets, eyes hooded with desire. Jesus fuck, this is a sight I could get used to.
My tongue darts out to wet my lips, and Fiona’s lips fall open in response. Groaning, I lower my head to tease her with another chaste kiss. When she attempts to entice me with her tongue, I smirk, sliding my lips down her chin and throat while she sighs.
Fiona’s hands land on my shoulder blades, stroking as my lips make their way from her throat over her chest until I tug down her bra cups. My lips close around one of her rosy nipples while my hand palms the other.
I knead her breast and pinch the nipple as she moans, thrusting her chest closer to my hand and mouth.
“Ronan,” she gasps as I grin against her breast.
“Aye,leannán?” I reply, my mouth still full of her nipple.
“Please,” she manages, though it sounds strained.
Obeying the unspoken plea in her tone, I abandon her breasts, my lips sliding down her stomach, stopping to dip my tongue into her navel, swirling it around, which causes her hips to buck slightly and a whimper to escape her.
“This is torture,” Fiona whimpers from somewhere above my head. I grin against her soft skin.
“No,leannán. This is me making love to my wife.”
She grumbles but falls silent as I press soft kisses down from her navel, my thumbs hooking the waistband of her panties and tugging them down. Discarding them on the floor beside the bed, my lips finally find their destination.
Pressing her legs apart, I pepper her with kisses until I hit her clit. Fiona’s hips buck at the contact. Her fingers tangle in my hair as I anchor her hips to stop them from moving again, swirling my tongue around her clit, lashing it.
“Ronan,” she whimpers again, her legs trembling beside my ears. I know that she’s close to coming.
Sucking on her clit, I slide a finger into her, groaning as her pussy muscles clench down hard. The vibrations of my groan tip her over the edge, her fingers tightening as she comes with a whole-body jerk and a gasp.
