Page 31 of Cowboy (Fury Vipers MC: Dublin Chapter #4)

Her hands aren't idle, moving across my chest, tracing the lines of my tattoos, exploring the ridges of muscle beneath my skin. When her fingers dip below the waistband of my boxers, I groan against her neck.

"Bed," she whispers, tugging me backward until her legs hit the mattress.

I follow her down, covering her body with mine but supporting my weight on my forearms. The feeling of her skin against mine is intoxicating—warm and soft and real.

"Can I taste you?" I ask, pressing kisses down her sternum, between her breasts.

She tenses slightly, uncertainty flashing in her eyes.

"We don't have to," I assure her immediately. "Nothing happens that you don't want."

She relaxes, then nods slowly. "I want to try. Just... keep talking to me?"

"Always," I promise, continuing my path downward, pausing to lavish attention on her breasts, drawing a soft moan from her lips. "I'll tell you everything I'm doing, everything I'm feeling."

My fingers hook into her underwear, drawing them down her legs with deliberate slowness. "You tell me if you want me to stop," I remind her, settling between her thighs. "Any time."

I start with gentle kisses on her inner thighs, feeling the slight tremor in her muscles. "Relax for me, beautiful," I murmur against her skin. "I've got you."

When my mouth finally finds her center, her entire body jerks in surprise, then gradually melts as I work her with gentle precision. I keep my movements slow and predictable, my hands steady on her hips, anchoring her.

"That's it," I encourage when I feel her hands tentatively thread through my hair. "Show me what you like."

She guides me, hesitantly at first, then with growing confidence as pleasure overtakes her initial nervousness. Her breathing changes, becoming deeper, more ragged. When I feel her thighs begin to tremble in earnest, I slide one finger inside her, then two, curving them just so.

"Ciarán," she gasps, her back arching off the bed.

"I'm right here," I reassure her, my voice vibrating against her most sensitive spot. "Let go, Caoimhe. I've got you."

She shatters with a broken cry, her body pulsing around my fingers. I work her through it gently, easing off as the aftershocks subside.

When I move back up her body, her eyes are wide, a mixture of wonder and vulnerability in them that makes my chest ache with tenderness.

"That was..." she starts, her voice trailing off.

"Just the beginning," I promise, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on my lips.

Her hands slide down my body with newfound boldness, pushing at my boxers. I help her remove them, then pause, giving her time to adjust to the sight of me fully naked, fully aroused.

Instead of fear, I see curiosity and desire in her eyes as she reaches for me, her touch exploratory and light. I suck in a breath as her fingers wrap around me, guiding her on pressure and rhythm.

"Like this?" she asks, watching my face intently.

"Perfect," I manage, fighting for control. "But if you keep that up, this will be over before it starts."

A small, satisfied smile curves her lips—a glimpse of the confident woman she was before, the woman she's fighting to become again.

I reach for the bedside drawer, but she stops me. "I can't... have children," she says softly, the pain of that reality evident in her voice. "Physical damage. The doctor confirmed it."

I cup her face in my hands. "I'm so sorry, Caoimhe. But that doesn't change anything for me. There are many ways to build a family. We already have Saoirse."

Relief floods her expression, and she pulls me back to her. "I want to feel you. Just you."

I position myself between her thighs, the head of my cock pressing against her entrance. "We'll go slow," I promise. "Tell me if it's too much."

Her hands slide around to my back, urging me forward. "I trust you."

Those three words nearly undo me.

I push into her with exquisite slowness, watching her face for any sign of distress. Her breath hitches, her eyes widening at the stretch, the fullness.

"Okay?" I ask, holding perfectly still despite the overwhelming urge to move.

She nods, adjusting to the feeling of me inside her. "Don't stop talking," she reminds me, her voice tight.

"You feel incredible," I tell her, my voice rough with restraint. "So perfect around me, so warm." I brush her hair from her forehead, dropping kisses on her eyelids, her cheeks, the corner of her mouth. "I love you, Caoimhe. So fucking much."

Something in her expression shifts, softens. Her hips lift slightly, taking me deeper. "I love you too."

I begin to move, setting a gentle rhythm, watching her face for every reaction. Gradually, her initial tension melts away, replaced by growing pleasure. Her legs wrap around my waist, changing the angle, drawing a moan from both of us.

"That's it," I encourage, feeling her begin to respond, to move with me. "Show me what feels good."

Her hands clutch at my shoulders, nails digging in slightly as she finds her confidence. The slight sting only heightens my arousal.

"Faster," she breathes, and I obey, increasing my pace while maintaining control.

I slide a hand between us, my thumb finding her clit, circling in time with my thrusts. Her eyes fly open, locking with mine as pleasure builds again.

"Stay with me," I urge, feeling her starting to get lost in sensation. "Right here, with me."

She nods, her gaze never leaving mine as we move together. This connection—seeing each other, truly seeing each other—is more intimate than the physical act itself.

"Ciarán," she gasps. "I'm close."

"Let go," I tell her again. "I'll catch you."

She comes with a cry that she muffles against my shoulder, her body clenching around me in waves. The sight of her lost in pleasure, the trust she's placed in me, pushes me over the edge. My release hits hard, pleasure spiking through me as I spill inside her, her name a prayer on my lips.

Afterward, I hold her close, both of us trembling slightly in the aftermath. I brush damp hair from her forehead, pressing a kiss there.

"You okay?" I ask softly.

She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek despite her smile. "Better than okay."

I wipe the tear away with my thumb. "Happy tears?"

"Yes," she whispers. "I didn't think I could feel like this again. Like my body was something other than a weapon to be used against me."

I gather her closer, my throat tight with emotion. "Your body is yours, Caoimhe. Only yours to give or withhold. Always."

She nestles against my chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my skin. "Thank you," she says eventually, her voice soft in the darkness.

I press a kiss to the top of her head. "For what?"

"For making me feel safe. For making me feel... mine again."

I tighten my arms around her, understanding the weight of what she's saying. "Always, Caoimhe. For as long as you want me."

She lifts her head, meeting my gaze with a newfound steadiness. "I think that might be forever."

"Forever works for me," I say, feeling a smile spread across my face. "Forever sounds just about right."