"Is this what you want from me?" I ask, picking up the pace. "Your federal agent, fucking you in a hospital bed while her colleagues hunt for her?"
"I want all of you. The agent, the woman, the fighter." His voice strains with pleasure and pain. "Every dangerous, beautiful piece."
I lean forward, bracing my hands on either side of his head as I ride him harder. The angle hits something deep inside me, making me cry out.
"That's it," he encourages. "Take what you need from me."
"I need everything." The confession tears from my throat as pleasure builds. "I need you alive. I need you safe. I need you mine."
"Then claim me."
I bite his jaw, his throat, marking him as thoroughly as he's marked my soul. My movements become frantic, chasing release while he meets each thrust despite his injuries.
"Come for me," he orders. "Show me who owns who."
The command pushes me over. I shatter above him, clenching around his cock as waves of pleasure crash throughme. He follows with a groan that vibrates through his chest, spilling inside me while I collapse against him.
We lie tangled together, breathing hard in the aftermath. His hands stroke my hair while I listen to his heartbeat, strong and steady beneath my ear.
"What happens now?" he asks.
"Now I go face the music with my supervisors." I lift my head to meet his eyes. "Tell them I'm taking a leave of absence."
"And after?"
"After, we disappear. New city, new names if we have to." I trace the edge of a bandage with my finger. "Think you can handle a quiet life with a disgraced federal agent?"
His laugh rumbles through his chest. "Darling, nothing about you will ever be quiet."
A knock at the door interrupts us. I scramble for my clothes while Eamon adjusts his hospital gown.
"Mr. Kavanagh?" A nurse's voice calls. "Visiting hours end in ten minutes."
"Come in," he calls back.
I'm dressed and composed by the time she enters, though my lips feel swollen and my hair is mussed.
"How's our patient?" she asks, checking his monitors.
"Much better," Eamon says, eyes finding mine. "Ready to start recovery."
She makes notes on his chart. "Doctor Morrison will discharge you tomorrow if your vitals stay stable."
After she leaves, I gather my belongings from the nightstand. My badge feels heavier in my hands.
"I'll be back tonight," I tell him. "After I deal with the Bureau."
"Sorcha." He catches my wrist as I lean down to kiss him goodbye. "Whatever they threaten you with, remember—wehave evidence of their corruption. Byrne's conspiracy. They need us more than we need them."
I nod, though we both know the truth. I've crossed too many lines to come back from this unchanged.
"I love you," I tell him.
"I love you too. Now go show those bureaucrats what happens when they try to separate us."
I walk out of that hospital room a different woman than the one who entered. The federal agent who started this investigation died somewhere in the wreckage of corruption and violence.
The woman leaving chose love over duty, passion over procedure.
