"Yours," he agrees, bucking beneath me despite the pain. "All yours, agent."
The title sounds different now. Not a barrier between us, but a game we play. Federal agent and Irish enforcer, twisted together in ways that would horrify my supervisors.
I grind against his growing hardness, still fully clothed while he lies exposed beneath me. Power and vulnerability shifting between us like a drug.
"Tell me what you want," I demand.
"I want to watch you come apart on top of me. Want to feel how wet you get when you're in control." His voice drops to gravel. "Want to mark you so every fed in that building knows who you belong to."
Heat pools between my legs at his words. I reach for his hands, pinning them beside his head despite his injuries.
"You don't get to mark me," I say, grinding harder. "I mark you."
I lean down and bite his shoulder, just above the bandages. Hard enough to leave teeth marks. He arches beneath me, cursing beautifully in Irish.
"The FBI called six times today," I tell him, working my way down his chest with teeth and tongue.
"What did you tell them?"
"Nothing. I was too busy keeping you alive." I reach his hip bone, nipping the sensitive skin there. "But I have to go in this afternoon."
His hand tangles in my hair, pulling me back up to meet his eyes. "What will you tell them about us?"
"That depends." I position myself over him, still clothed but pressed against his cock through the thin hospital gown. "Are you planning to disappear when this is over? Go back to your life of violence and crime?"
"Not without you."
The words hit me like electricity. I rock against him, chasing friction through too many layers of clothing.
"Even if it means leaving Boston? Leaving your family?"
"You are my family now." His hands find my hips, guiding my movements. "My loyalty. My choice."
I pull back to shed my jacket and blouse, revealing the black lace bra underneath. His eyes devour the sight of me above him, rumpled and desperate.
"The review board will crucify me for this," I tell him, unclasping the bra. "For choosing a criminal over my duty."
"Is that what you're doing?"
I lean down, pressing my bare breasts against his chest, careful of his wounds. "I chose you the moment I let you into that safe house instead of calling for backup. Everything after was just me catching up."
He captures my mouth in a kiss that tastes like possession and promise. His tongue claims mine while his hands roam my bare back, mapping territory he's learned by heart.
"The door," I gasp against his lips.
"Is locked. And anyone who tries to interrupt us will answer to me."
The threat in his voice sends heat straight to my core. Even injured, even vulnerable, he's still dangerous. Still mine.
I work my slacks and underwear down, kicking them off without breaking our kiss. Now we're skin to skin, my wetness coating his length as I grind against him.
"Inside me," I demand. "Now."
He positions himself at my entrance, hands gripping my hips to guide me down. I sink onto him with a moan that echoes off the sterile walls.
"Christ, you feel perfect," he breathes, head falling back against the pillows.
I start to move, riding him with deliberate control. Each thrust sends sparks through me while his hands worship my body, thumbs brushing my nipples until I arch into his touch.
