Page 93 of His Forced Irish Mafia Bride

“You look terrible,” I said.

Sean glanced up. “I’ll survive.” His voice sounded rough.

He secured the bandage around my arm and checked it once before setting the supplies aside. Morning light spread across the room while the city slowly woke outside the windows. When he finished, he looked over my injuries one last time. I looked at him.

His shirt was creased. His eyes looked heavy.

We were home, but he looked like he hadn’t slept at all.

***

The office looked the same when I walked in. Then I noticed the details: a chair sat slightly away from the desk, while the desk itself had a fresh crack along one corner.

I stopped and looked at it. A half-full glass rested on the side table. Sean never left drinks unfinished. My eyes moved to him.

He stood by the window with his sleeves rolled up. The cut across his knuckle looked darker than it had earlier. He picked up the glass, turned it once in his hand, and then set it back down without drinking.

“You should still be resting,” he said.

I walked farther into the room. The office felt different now that I was paying attention. Nothing was damaged badly enough to draw notice, but small things sat out of place, as though someone had stopped caring where they belonged. I stopped a few steps behind him.

Sean stayed where he was. My gaze dropped to his hand again. The skin across his knuckles was split and only half cleaned. I glanced around the office again. The cracked desk. The unfinished drink.

The same shirt he’d worn earlier. A thought settled quietly in my mind. “You haven’t slept.”

Sean’s attention stayed on the window, but I could tell he wasn’t looking at the city. Morning light stretched acrossthe floor between us. The room stayed quiet. After a while, he crossed to one of the chairs and sat down.

He chose the one closest to me. I stayed where I was. Neither of us spoke again. We didn’t need to.

The office already held everything that mattered. The space between Sean and me had already gotten too small to ignore. My body just started moving toward him. I didn’t even think about it. One step, then another. Sean’s eyes looked up at mine; they were dark and tired and something else that I couldn’t quite figure out. He didn’t get up; he just sat there with his legs a little apart, his hands on his thighs like he was trying to keep himself under control. I stopped between his knees.

His breath caught, a small sound, but it did something to me. I reached down and touched the side of Sean’s face. His stubble rubbed against my palm. He leaned into my touch a little bit. Then his hand came up really slowly and wrapped around my wrist. He wasn’t pulling me away. He was just holding me. His thumb rubbed over my pulse once, twice, like he needed to make sure I was real.

“Come here,” Sean said, his voice low and rough. I got on his lap, my legs on either side of him. Moving like that made my shoulder hurt, but I didn’t care. Sean’s hands went to my waist, his fingers spread out. For a time we just breathed the same air, our foreheads almost touching. Then Sean tilted his head and kissed me.

It wasn’t a kiss we were used to. It was slow and gentle, like Sean was getting to know me again after everything we’d been through. His mouth moved on mine, really patient, like he was learning me all over again. When his tongue touched my lower lip, I opened my mouth. The kiss got deeper, warm and slow, and it felt like it had been a long time coming.

Sean’s hands went under my shirt, his rough palms touching my tits. His lips brushed my mouth, my jaw, my neck. Ishivered. He waited for me to tell him it was okay, and I did, with the way I moved my head and my hips.

We took our clothes off slowly, one piece at a time. No rush. Sean’s shirt came off first, then mine. The cool air touched our skin. I touched the cut on Sean’s hand with my thumb, and he caught my hand and kissed the bruise on my arm, then my shoulder, then my neck. When Sean finally stood up he lifted me with him, my legs wrapped around his waist like they were meant to be there.

Sean carried me to his bed like I was something precious and a little dangerous. The bed dipped down under us. Sean lay on top of me, his weight on his arms, his eyes locked on mine.

When Sean finally pushed his cock inside me, he did it slowly, like he was waiting for me to tell him it was okay. We were pressed together chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. He stayed there inside me, his forehead against mine, breathing hard.

“Look at me,” Sean whispered. In that moment something opened up between us, bigger than any city or any building. We were closer than we’d ever been.

Sean started moving slowly, like he was savoring every moment. No fast rhythm, just us, skin on skin, quiet gasps, fingers locked tight. Every time he moved it felt like an answer to the silence that had scared me before.

I wrapped my legs around Sean. Let myself fall into it. His dick went in deep, and I moaned in pure ecstasy. The city was waking up outside. In here there was only this, this closeness that felt like it was going to change everything.. After this I knew there would be no going back to how things were before.

The rhythm was slow and peaceful, almost like we were being careful. Each slow movement made a low sound come out of my throat. I didn’t try to stop it. Sean made a sound against my neck. His hips moved deep and hard in a way that mademy back lift off the sheets. His weight on me was solid. It made me feel safe. My hands touched the muscles of his back, feeling a small shake there that was the only sign that he was holding something back.

He kissed me again. Our tongues moved together in the same slow pace as our bodies. Sweat started to make our skin slippery. My fingers went through his hair, pulling lightly. He made a rough sound that I felt on my lips. One of his hands went down my leg, lifting it higher, opening me more so he could go deeper. The way he moved made me gasp sharply. I felt pleasure building up like big waves moving slowly.

There were no words, just our breathing, our skin moving, and sometimes Sean whispering my name against my collarbone like a secret. Sean moved like he wanted to remember every moment, every beat of my heart, every time my body tightened around him. I let my hands explore his body—the scar under his ribs, the line of his jaw, the way his shoulders moved with each slow thrust.

When I finally felt release, it was like a wave crashing over me, long and strong and unexpected. I tightened around Sean, whispering his name against his mouth. Sean buried himself deep inside me and stayed there, his body tight and shaking. He pressed his forehead hard to mine, eyes closed, breathing hard.