Page 82 of Fireworks
“So perfect,” he murmured.
She bucked her hips, and he keened like a man possessed, cock pulsing against her walls.
“Go slow,” Eiley begged. “Let me help, okay?”
When he pulled back, trembling, she curled her hands around his base so he never had to feel her absence.
He loved her, and he was so lost in his exhaustion and pleasure that he almost said it. Wanted to. He loved that she was here, trying to take care of him after a nightmare of a shift. Loved that she tested him, loved that she cared so much. Fraser had been right about that. He saw that heart on her sleeve now; it was no longer hidden.
“You’re all I’ve thought about all night.” Her hot breath flooded his ear, and he thrust again, as deep as he could. It wasn’t nearly enough, not in this position, not with their heights so misaligned, but it would get him to his climax all the same. It didn’t matter, as long as he had her here.
“Do you have any idea,” he muttered through gritted teeth, “how much good you deserve,mo ghaol?”
“What does it mean?” She began to pant, clenching around him desperately. “You keep saying it, but I don’t know what it means.”
It was something that slipped out. Something his father used to call his mother, an old habit passed along withoutintention. Like it was innate, and his heart had already decided.
“My love,” he admitted. “It means my love.” And it was what she was, now more than ever as she paid attention to what he needed first. Always everyone else first.
Fuck that.
He sheathed himself fully inside her, batting her hands away so he could play with her clit.
“Oh, god. That’s not … what we agreed.”
“I’llalwaystake care of you first.” He used the last dregs of his strength to rut in and out of her, slow like she asked, but not enough to let the tension ebb. She lifted one leg around him, allowing him better access, and every nerve in his body came alive with the sensation it offered. The closeness. Their bodies melded, synchronising after being apart.
“Say it again,” she begged,
“Mo ghaol.” He worked her clit harder, their skin slapping and joining and shuddering. “My fucking love.”
Water rolled down her cheek, or maybe it was a tear, as she said, “I’m close. I’m so close.”
“Me, too. Need you to come with me.” He focused on the build, their movements, until he was teetering on the brink, each step leading him closer to the edge. “Now. Come for me now.”
The world fell out of focus as her cries chased him through his orgasm. Her fingers dug into his back, his into her circling hips, and he never wanted this to end as his pleasure spilled hot into the condom.
But his body was at its limit, so he could only slump into her when it was over. She held him tightly, without question, for minutes, kissing his damp skin and keeping him upright.
“Come on,” she said. “I’ll take you home.”
She clearly had no idea that he was already there.
36
It was raining. Eiley laughed as she stepped out of the car, holding her palms out to catch the drops. She couldn’t believe it. The earthy scent of petrichor soothed her raw insides with every deep breath, cardigan sticking to her skin as the chill rattled through her.
“It’s finally raining!” she announced over the hilltop. It might have been dramatic, silly, but she felt like she’d survived something. Not just the drought, or last night’s fires, but an oppressive weight that had clung to her through spring’s breezes and summer’s humidity. This was a sign: the worst was over.
She turned to Warren, expecting to see delight – even stronger than hers, surely, because it meant an end to the wildfires. But his intense gaze and soft smile was rooted unwaveringly on her, making her feel more beautiful, more important, than the rain and the view and the half-built house.
She’d never seen him so dishevelled before, hair still damp from the shower and shoulders hunched as though he hadn’t realised the threat had gone.
Unless it wasn’t the fires he was worried about.
Eiley’s chest caved in. She’d had a moment’s reprieve, but looking at him meant suffocating all over again. She’d met him at her worst, when everybody’s concern was building like Jenga blocks, leaving her trapped in a tower of helplessness and uncertainty. It was in his nature to add to the pile – because he cared. Violently, selflessly,toomuch.
And by searching for him last night, she’d been what he kept accusing her of being: reckless.
