Page 80 of Bozo

Gráinne smiles, a small but genuine smile that makes my heart skip a beat. "Together," she agrees.

As we walk into the clubhouse, my arm around her waist as she leans heavily against me, I can't shake the feeling that this is just the beginning. The Revenant may be wounded, but they're far from defeated. And something tells me that the real battle is yet to come.

For now, though, I push those thoughts aside. Tonight, I'm going to hold my woman close and be grateful that she’s safe. Tomorrow, we'll face whatever may arise.

TWENTY-FIVE

GRÁINNE

The second we’re in his room, he’s on me, his lips hot and heavy against mine, his hands gently skimming along my body. I melt into his embrace, my fingers tangling in his hair as I pull him closer.

His touch sends shivers down my spine, igniting a fire deep within me. It’s been a while since we’ve been this close, and God, I’ve missed it. We stumble backwards until my legs hit the edge of the bed. He breaks the kiss, his dark eyes burning with desire as they lock onto mine. For a moment, we're both breathless, chests heaving. Then he's lowering me onto the mattress, his body covering mine as his lips find my neck.

I arch into him, a soft moan escaping my lips. His hands slide under my shirt, calloused fingers tracing patterns on my skin. I tug at his shirt, desperate to feel his bare skin against mine. He pulls back just long enough to yank it over his head before capturing my lips again in a searing kiss that leaves me dizzy and wanting more.

My hands roam over his now-exposed chest, relishing the feeling of taut muscle beneath my fingertips. He groans into my mouth, the sound sending a jolt of electricity through me. Hisfingers fumble with the buttons of my blouse, his usual control lost in his eagerness. I can't help but smile against his lips, amused by his impatience.

Finally, he manages to undo the last button, pushing the fabric aside. His mouth leaves mine to trail kisses down my neck, across my collarbone, lower still. I gasp as his lips brush against the swell of my breast, my back arching off the bed. His hands slide around to my back, quickly unhooking my bra.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire as he drinks in the sight of me.

I pull him back down to me, craving the feel of his skin against mine. Our kisses grow more urgent, hands exploring one another with need.

His fingers ghost along my sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. They pause at the waistband of my jeans, a silent question in their hesitation. I nod, breathless with anticipation. He smiles, a mixture of tenderness and hunger in his eyes as he slowly, torturously, begins to undo the button.

He’s so gentle as he touches me, and I know it’s so he doesn’t hurt me. My injuries are still fresh, but I need Connor right now. I need him so much it hurts.

“Grá,” he growls as he lowers his mouth on mine once again.

Connor's fingers work deftly, sliding my jeans down my legs. His touch is feather-light over my bruises, a stark contrast to the intensity of his kisses. I wince slightly as he presses a kiss against my bandage where I was stabbed, and he immediately pulls back, concern clouding his features.

"Are you alright, Sunshine? We can stop if?—"

I silence him with a kiss, pouring all my need into it. "Don't you dare stop," I breathe against his lips.

He hesitates for just a moment before nodding, his eyes dark with barely restrained passion. His hands resume theirexploration, but now there's an added layer of care in every caress.

I reach for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in my eagerness. Connor chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against my skin where his lips are pressed to my neck. He helps me, and soon we're both free of the last barriers between us.

As he positions himself above me, Connor pauses, his gaze locked with mine. In that moment, I see everything—his love, his worry, his desire. "I love you," he murmurs, the words carrying the weight of a vow.

"I love you too," I whisper back, my heart swelling with emotion.

Then he's entering me, slowly, carefully. The world narrows down to just us, the feeling of him inside me, the sound of our mingled breaths, the taste of his skin as I press my lips to his shoulder.

We move together, finding our rhythm. It's gentle at first, mindful of my injuries, but as the pleasure builds, so does our urgency. I cling to him, my nails digging into his back as waves of pleasure crash over me.

Connor buries his face in my neck, his breath hot against my skin as he whispers endearments against me.

I can feel myself getting close, teetering on the edge of bliss. "Connor," I gasp, my voice raw with need.

He understands, his movements becoming more purposeful. One of his hands slips between us, and with a few expert touches, I'm falling apart beneath him, crying out his name as ecstasy washes over me.

Connor follows me over the edge moments later, his body tensing as he finds his release. He collapses on top of me, careful not to put his full weight on my injuries. For a long moment, we simply lie there, breathing heavily, our bodies still connected.

Finally, Connor lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine. There's a softness in his gaze that makes my heart skip a beat. He brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch impossibly tender. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice laced with concern.

I nod, unable to keep the smile from my face. "More than okay," I assure him, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips.

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