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.