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missing you night after night.”
    The image of Bann pleasuring himself in the dark as he thought of her sent a hot flush through Shay. The feeling intensified when he rolled over and pushed her down on the bed and lowered his mouth to her breast. Pleasure spiked through her as he suckled gently, then harder, using his tongue and teeth. Releasing her nipple, he shifted his hips between her thighs, nudging them wider, then guided the head of his member to heropening and held it there, teasing with little movements that almost hurt, it felt so good.
    â€œShit, Bann,” she gasped. “Enough already.”
    â€œOh, not nearly enough, darlin’.” He planted a kiss between her twin mounds, then straightened up and reached for the nightstand. Shay stopped him.
    â€œNo. Let me.” She grabbed a condom, scattering the others to the floor. For a split second, she debated going after them.
Screw it—we know where they are
. Her fingers shook as she prepared him, unrolling the latex sheath down the impressive length—
and girth. Let’s not forget about girth
—as gently as she could.
    He eased inside her with a slowness that was borderline cruel, then paused, the muscles and the cords of his arms standing out in sharp relief in the moonlight as he held himself still, allowing her body to adjust. Then, he lowered himself to his elbows and began rocking, grinding his pelvis against hers, his manhood stroking her deepness, and their mouths almost touching, sharing each other’s breath.
    Shay reached around, enjoying the dance and flex of his buttock muscles under her palms as he sought the perfect angle and rhythm for both of them. During the times they had made love before Bann left for Pennsylvania, she had come to realize that her lover felt it was his sacred duty—a duty he took very seriously, to the point of demanding nightly practice—to make her climax. Every time. Multiple times, if he could. She loved the fact that he always rose to the occasion. Literally and figuratively.
    â€œCome for me,” he whispered against her lips. “I want to hear you cry out.”
    Mindful of the sleeping boy just down the hall, Shay slid her hands up and clutched at his back, pressing her face into his shoulder. He thrust harder, increasing both the speed and the friction.
    All of Shay’s existence narrowed down to where their bodies joined. With each thrust, her passion grew. “Yes. Oh, yes. Just like that, Bann,” she gasped. He obliged.
    Rising, rising, then suddenly, she was there. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled throughout her body, like a hand fisting and un-fisting. Dimly, she was aware of Bann ceasing his movement. She could feel herself clenching around his manhood. With a grunt, he came as well, hips jerking spasmodically, the rest of his body as rigid as his organ. Then, he collapsed on top of her.
    For a long while, Shay drifted, even dozing for a minute or two. Finally, she summoned the strength to lift her hand, heavy like the rest of her body, and stroke the damp hairs that clung to the back of Bann’s neck.
My betrothed
, she thought, smiling at both the old-fashioned word and all that it meant. “I love you, Bannerman Boru,” she whispered.
    Raising his head, Bann peered at her, his eyelids at half-mast. “And I, you, Shay Doyle.” He shifted to one elbow, then took her hand and kissed the trio of rings gracing her finger. “My love.” He held her hand for another moment, then, with a wince, he eased out of her and rolled off the bed. He disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of running water followed.
    As Bann cleaned up, Shay considered following suit, but decided it was too much work. Instead, she fluffed the sheet and comforter a few times, airing them out, then snuggled back under with a sigh of contentment.
    Bann returned. He paused by the side of the bed. Waiting.
    â€œWhat?” Shay asked.
    â€œI prefer to sleep