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He drew every last shudder from her, his grip iron on her hips, his mouth relentless as if he was determined to wring her dry, to leave her trembling and undone. When she finally sagged back against the sheets, stars still sparking behind her eyes, she looked down at him. His mouth was glistening, his face all hard edges and pure, smug male satisfaction.

“I’m not finished with you,” he growled, voice rough with hunger.

Jenn shivered. He never was.

He crawled up her body with slow, deliberate grace, his weight pinning her to the bed, claiming every inch of her. His mouth caught hers, deep and possessive, and she could taste herself on his lips—hot, raw, intoxicating. When the hard length of him rubbed against her slick core, her body arched violently, a strangled sound escaping her throat.

“Oh, God…”

Ruairidh’s cock slid against her, heavy and hard, teasing her, making her squirm.

“Ru…” she gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. “Stop teasing.”

His lips brushed her ear, voice a low growl. “Not teasing. Just savouring.” He rocked his hips again, letting the head of his cock catch at her entrance, then retreating, slow and maddening.

“You’re soaked for me,” he murmured, dragging his tongue along her neck. “I could stay like this forever.”

Jenn whimpered, her hips rolling desperately to meet him. “Ru. Now. Please.”

That single word—please—broke him.

With a low curse, he thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt. They both cried out, their breath mingling as their bodies locked together in raw, perfect alignment.

“Ìosa, Jenn…,” he rasped, forehead pressed to hers. He stayed still for a moment, letting her tight heat clench around him, his control hanging by a thread.

“Please,” she whispered, voice hoarse with need.

He obeyed, hips rolling in deep, steady strokes that made her toes curl. Each thrust dragged along every nerve ending, slow and deliberate, like he was determined to make her feel every inch of him.

“You feel… fuck. So good.”

Jenn wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, harder. Their rhythm built, rougher now, his breaths ragged against her lips. She clung to him, her nails raking down his back as pleasure coiled hot and relentless in her belly.

“Look at me,” Ruairidh demanded, his voice commanding, but laced with something vulnerable. “I want to see you when you come.”

Her eyes flew open, meeting the storm in his.

It undid her.

Her climax hit like a tidal wave—hard, rolling, impossible to hold back. She screamed his name, body shuddering around him as she fell apart.

“Jenn,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic, desperate. Her walls clenched around him in fluttering aftershocks, and with a guttural sound he came hard, spilling into her as his body trembled above hers.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of their panting breaths, and the feel of their hearts thundering in sync. Ruairidh collapsed beside her, pulling her close against his chest with a low, satisfied groan. He kissed the top of her head, slow and lingering, his hand stroking lazily down her spine—soothing and teasing at once, as if to anchor her back into herself.

“Tha gaol agam ort.”

“I love you too,” Jenn mumbled, curling into him.

She breathed him in—citrus, woodsmoke, warmth—and let the steady thrum of his heartbeat calm the ragged edges of her own.

For the first time, the future didn’t scare her. It felt like home.

Chapter 45

The tide whispered over Puka’s Beach, leaving silver trails in the sand. Jenn’s toes sank into the cool grains with every step, Ruairidh’s warm hand wrapped around hers. They didn’t need words. Not yet. The day was falling into dusk, and the sun had already dropped behind the mountains to the west, leaving the sky above Hellisay brushed with the last of its afterglow—peach softening to rose, fading into violet over the sea.

Jenn glanced up at him. The man was unfair, really. Barefoot, jeans rolled, wind teasing his dark hair—looking like every island fantasy rolled into one.