OH. That's new. Well, not new new, but anything with her is new enough.

Sweeney almost chokes on his tongue. His fingers twitch against the urge to twist them in her hair, but it doesn't stop his other hand from jumping to her shoulder to steady himself.

"Fucking hell," he whispers, swallowing to ease the ghostly wisp of his voice. Sweeney's gaze flickers to the sky for a moment as he fights to collect himself, but that effort is abandoned before it begins. He cranes his head enough to watch her, savoring the union of sight and sensation. The knot in his belly coils into a singular thought.

More.