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“Say that again.”

“I love ya.”

His hand slides into my hair and gathers it at my nape.

“Again.”

“I love ya, Fionn.”

He kisses me harder than before as he tilts my head to deepen the kiss. When his fingers tighten in my hair and his breathing changes, my hands drop to his belt buckle.

The leather resists for half a second before it gives.

“Do you know what I hated most?” I ask.

“What?”

“Every time you entered a room, my eyes found ya before sense could stop me. And all I could think about was doing this⁠—”

I tug the belt open, watching his expression while I do it. His jaw is tight. His breathing has gone shallow and controlled, as if he's letting me lead.

It won't last. It never does with him. But I take what he's giving me while he's giving it.

I lower his zip and slide my hand inside.

He's hard. Hot, thick, and heavy against my palm, and the grunt he makes when I wrap my fingers around his dick has my temperature rising.

"Sera."

I stroke the length of his dick and his hand flexes against my waist.

"I can feel the ring," he says, his voice like gravel. "Your engagement ring. On my dick."

"Does it feel good?”

"Do it harder."

The band of the ring drags along the length, and his eyes go darker, wide pupils swallowing amber.

"You like that," I say.

"I like what it’s going to mean for us." His hand comes up and closes around my wrist, stilling me.

The control he's been holding by a thread finally snaps. He strips the rest of his clothes off in seconds, no ceremony, no patience, and then he stops himself and smiles at me.

A beautiful, seductive smile that reaches right inside my chest and squeezes.

Then his hands are on me.

One grabs my hair, the other spreads wide across my bare back, pulling me into him, skin to skin.

The kiss is all teeth and heat and everything we've been trying to suppress for months.

"Tell me you’ve always wanted this," he says against my mouth.

“You know I have." I bite his lower lip. "I was jealous of my own best friend, Fionn."

He turns me with one hand on my hip, guiding me around on my knees until I'm facing the windows, and the whole city is spread out below us in the morning light. Rooftops. The river. A city bought up by a Harrington.