I clamp around him, my hands falling against his muscular chest as he starts thrusting gently. He does it so fucking slow that my eyes roll back in my head.
It’s madness to be lying here, wrapped up in each other, when there’s an army about to descend on the gates in no time at all.
But I can’t find it in myself to be scared right now. It seems neither can he.
Maybe we both feel like we deserve this.
After everything we’ve been through… After everything that was stolen from us…
Maybe we’ll be allowed this little piece of perfect.
“Saoirse,” Cillian groans, in my ear, “you are the only one I’ve ever wanted.” He raises his head off my shoulder and looks straight down at me.
Our eyes lock. Neither one of us looks away.
And, without blinking, he fucks me slowly, deeply, passionately. He fucks me to another orgasm.
He tells me I’m beautiful. I’m perfect. I’m amazing.
He doesn’t say he loves me. But he doesn’t really need to.
I know he does.
It’s in the eyes.