I sat up, then spun to face him to find that he had turned as well, putting the couch at his side rather than at his back, his face half-in and half-out of the firelight, and I came to him. He sat cross-legged and I spread my knees over his thighs and slid home, settling comfortably onto his groin. He brought his hands up to my face, cupping my cheeks, winding the locks closest to my face around his fingers, his thumbs caressing my cheekbones.

I licked my lips as I ran my fingers over his, he pursed them briefly, kissing my fingertips as they passed. I passed my thumb over the beauty mark at the side of his mouth, before sliding my hand down to his neck, his skin smooth and cool as I explored into his hair, my thumb on his earlobe.

His fingers still twined around my hair, pulled me ever so gently, closer to his face. The firelight somehow made his eyes more gray, but as I got closer I could make out the breathtaking color of them. He tilted my head down, kissing my forehead, then each eye, then my nose. My head tilted all on instinct as his lips closed in on mine, then locked.

A slow, sensual kiss, but no less passionate for it's lack of urgency or speed. Our mouths remembered each other and it was as incredible as it had always been. When I kissed Connor, it was always near violence, our tongues fighting each other, battling for domination, biting each others lips. But with Murphy, it wasn't like that. Our tongues shared each other's mouths, an occasional suckle of the other's bottom lip, but then straight back to the dance that we both knew the steps to. Soft, but insistent. Passionate, but gentle. And slow, taking our time, never rushing. No where to go. Nothing else in the world existed when Murphy was kissing me, nothing else mattered.

All that being said, Murphy's mouth on mine was always more than enough to get me damp and aroused. I ground my hips against his, in a rhythm that complimented the pace that our mouths had taken up, and I could feel him hardening through his jeans against my body, still naked under the robe. Murphy's hands slid down the silken material covering my back to squeeze my ass briefly. I moaned into his mouth, never interrupting the rhythm. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I pressed myself tighter to him.

His hands slid down my legs to my knees where they rested beside his hips on the floor, then slid back up my thighs, his fingers blessedly gentle against my skin where they sneaked beneath the robe. His thumbs traced over the arch of my hips as his fingers ghosted softly over my ass. They continued up until he was stopped short by the belt knotted around my waist, then his hands circled forward, tracing around my sides, my belly, his thumbs tracking low enough to barely brush my clit, before he withdrew his hands. I moaned into his mouth.

His hands moved up my front, teasing my nipples to hardened nubs through the silky material and I whimpered. His hands continued up to my neck, into my hair as he gently pulled my face away from his. I whined, breathlessly.

He settled his face into the crook of my neck where it met my shoulder and I could feel him grin. "Did ye not want to stop, girl?"

From my vantage point I licked a stripe up the shell of his ear as I breathed deeply the smell of him, "I could kiss you for days, Murphy."

He planted a soft kiss against my skin and I shivered as his hands glided down my shoulders, sliding his fingers under my arms and looking behind me. "Aye, myself as well. But," he began as he brought himself to his knees, leaning me back against the ottoman at the foot of the nearest armchair, "if I'm kissing ye," he said, lifting my hips, laying me out flat on my back across the length of the stool, never breaking eye contact, and parting the short material of my robe away from my heated thighs, "then my mouth can't be doin'," he continued, as he gently spread my knees apart, his breath warm on my dampness, now blissfully exposed to him. "This," he said, my eyes locked on his until his tongue dipped into my folds, finding my clit immediately, causing my head to rock back as I cried out.

My fingers clenched in the cushion of the ottoman as he went to work, his mouth as soft as I remembered and his tongue as skilled. His hands slid up my thighs, his thumbs spreading me open allowing him more room to work in me. My toes curled as he pressed harder into me, his nose now nudging my clit as his tongue moved further south, penetrating me as he shot it in and out of his mouth at a frantic pace. My back arched as he began to growl, the sound reverberating through my nethers, the feeling delightfully ticklish and deep. My fingers moved down into his hair, tangling it around my fingers as his tongue licked short rapid strokes then switched to luxuriously long stripes the length of my slit.

The noises rolling from my throat had gotten deeper and more guttural as he moved back to my clit, nibbling and sucking, his fingers now sliding into me. I arched as my body started to quiver. I heard myself calling his name as my legs started to spasm, locking themselves around his head. I started to shake as his name quickly became a series of syllables that couldn't be recognized as words. What rational part of my brain was still functioning was thinking that if I didn't come soon I was going to explode, as his teeth moved back from my clit and he repeated the switching back and forth between the short and long licks, his speed perfect, his technique flawless.

I felt my fingers clench and my back arch a split second before an involuntary scream that may have started out as his name but just devolved into a long, low howl poured from my mouth as his ever so skilled mouth brought me to my finish. I came over and over again, my body just beginning to relax, when he would nudge my clit again with his nose or his lips and I'd start over. When I was certain that he couldn't possibly still be breathing down there, he pulled me forward enough to expose my ass cheek that he promptly slapped hard enough to sting and I came one more time, screaming.

As I slowly became aware again, I realized my breathy exhales were still moans and whimpers. I closed my mouth to wet my sore and very dry throat. "Fuck me, Murph," I exclaimed, breathless.

"In a bit, girl. Got to let ye get yer breath back, first."

I laughed deep in my throat as I willed my fingers to relax in his hair, as I became aware of his weight across my thighs. I could barely see him over my still heaving breasts so I slowly propped myself up on my elbows to look down at him. His arms were crossed over the tops of my thighs, his chin resting on his wrists as he stared up at me, the half-ass grin on his face visible in the firelight.

I arched an eyebrow at him, "What?"

"I missed listening to yer noises, girl. Especially the ones ye make when I'm going down on ye."

"Shut up," I said, feeling color creeping up my face. He reached up with one hand, running his so familiar fingers over my nipple, hardening it with no effort, as a gasp/groan slid out from between my lips.

"Missed that one, too," he said, his grin no longer half-ass, but full and beaming.

"Think I don't remember what makes you moan, Murphy McManus?" I said sitting up, my body still twitching, as I set my hands to his shoulders, pushing him back. I tried to get my feet under me, but my legs were still too pleasantly weak so I slid off the ottoman onto his lap, my knees on the floor beside his hips. His hands went around my waist then stroked my back, slowly.

I latched onto his mouth, kissing him thoroughly as I peeled his shirt off only breaking away long enough to whip it over his head. My fingers found the hairs at the nape of his neck and stroked upwards, eliciting a shiver and a sound. I pulled my mouth back and repeated the move. "What was that?"

"Nothing," he replied, grinning.

I arched my eyebrow again. "Oh? Ok," I said, moving my mouth down his jaw to a spot just beside his pulse as my fingers roamed his bare chest until I found his nipples with my thumbs. I licked and rubbed simultaneously and felt him tense. He bit his lip and exhaled harshly through his nose.

"Sorry," I said, tilting my ear towards him, "did you say something?"

"No," he said, licking a stripe up the shell of my ear. I shivered against him as I closed my mouth over his again. My hands worked down his chest to his happy trail, my nails lightly scratching through the spiky hair below his belly button. He moaned into my mouth.

I pulled back. "I know I heard something that time."

"Nope," he said, his fair skin flushed. "Nothing."

"Have it your way, Murph, make me play dirty," I said closing my mouth over his again. Sliding my hands further down, I made short work of his belt, button and zipper. Reaching into his boxers, I closed my hands around his hardness and slowly drew it out. I felt him shudder under my touch as his hands flattened against my ass, an increasing pressure trying to lift me into position for him to slide into me. I pressed against his hands as I scooted down his legs. He made a disappointed noise as I pulled away from his lips. "Nope," I said, settling on my elbows between his thighs, "too late."

"Naw, girl," he protested, almost panicked, as he pulled at my shoulders.

I looked up at him confused. "No? I gotta say that the first time I've ever heard that from a man."

"No," he repeated, "it's just… come here, will ye?"

"What, Murph?"

"Ye…can't. Ye kiss yer son with yer mouth, girl. I'll not have ye—" he trailed off, a deep throated groan rolling out of his mouth as I licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, hard to do as I smiled.

Mission accomplished, I came back to my knees and crawled towards him, "Not with my tongue, I don't, Murphy."

He grabbed me roughly then, pulling me across his lap and kissing me as he edged me back to the ottoman. I went willingly enough, laying back luxuriantly across the little upholstered footstool. He slowly came to his knees between my thighs, pressing his solid stomach against my still twitching, still damp slit. Looking down at me, his strong fingers went to work on the soft tie of my robe. I touched his hands as they worked, having missed the feel of them moving under my fingers. Slowly the tie gave and he laid it, unhurried on either side of me, letting it hang off the sides of the ottoman.

His fingers slowly worked under the edge of the material, the smooth side of his fingernails dragging over my skin, leaving heat in their wake. He separated the material just enough to bare a thin strip of my skin from my neck down to the hair covering my mound. He started there, between my pubic hair and my belly button, his mouth soft and warm, kissing and licking up my middle, his body gently settling over mine, until he got to my neck, his body laid over my own, pressing me down, his erection grinding into my groin. I pulled him tight against me, needing the feeling of his skin against my own.

I felt him grin against my throat, before he peeled my hands from his body and stood up. He smiled down at me, his hands thumbs hooked in the waist of his pants, sliding them and his boxers down. By the time hit the floor, I was up on my elbows, licking my lips obscenely. "Lie back, girl," he said, his voice like satin against my naked skin, and I obliged.

He straddled my naked hips with his own, his fingers running up the small exposed strip of my skin, then he stopped. His hands slid under the robe at my hips, the material laying on top of his hands, as he traced his way up from my hips, over my belly, to my ribs, opening the robe slowly as they continued their trip. I was arching my breasts up to him long before his hands got there and my nipples were rock hard when the robe finally fell away from them. Murphy laid the material to the side, unwrapping me like a Christmas present, then ran his fingers up between my breasts, then one hand over each of them, taking both nipples between his fingers, twisting them this way and that. I started to moan.

I arched my hips towards him as much as I could while he was sitting on them. He stood again, moving back to stand between my knees again. He ran a finger up my slit, making sure I was still ready for him, before he took hold of my knees, slinging them over his shoulders, and pulling me closer to him as he knelt on the very edge of the footstool.

I could feel the pulse of blood through his cock as he lined up at my entrance, then straightened his body, his knees on the edge of the stool and his body at a right angle to the floor. As he straightened, my body rose with him, until only the top half of my back and my head were still on the cushion. I felt him slide into me, deliciously slow and almost painfully filling. I gasped, a pleased moan at the end of the breath.

His hands still on my knees, he held still for a second before withdrawing just as slowly, then sliding my knees, down from his shoulders to the outside of his arms, my knees resting just over the crooks of his elbow. His hands on my thighs, he moved forward again, the approach of his body spreading my thighs further apart and the pressure almost bending me in half. I could barely breathe, I felt full enough to split in two and he was in me so deep that I thought I could feel him in the back of my throat.

And it was the most fantastic feeling in the entire fucking world.

He pulled out again, his pace never changing, torturously slow and I almost started to cry, the pain/pleasure line was so blissfully blurred. I arched my hips before he slid home again and the change in the angle caused him to cry out in pleasure. "Aye, girl, stay just like that."

I couldn't do anything but nod, as he slid in and out of me, each slow thrust perfect, my body coiling a little more every time. I couldn't reach anything but his hands where they rested on my thighs, so I took hold of them, entwining our fingers as I moved my body to meet his.

It didn't take long before we were both sweating with exertion and the heat from the damn fire, and soon after that, Murphy's pace sped slightly. I could feel his control slipping and none too soon, because I couldn't take much more. He pulled nearly out of me and paused. I looked up at him, desperation in my eyes, he couldn't leave me like this.

"Ready?" he asked

I was afraid to ask for what so I just nodded. He grinned down at me, just before he slammed into me up to the hilt. I did scream that time. The depth, the stretching. Fast, hard and dirty. I barely had enough time to draw a breath before he slammed into me again. He repeated the motion, over and over, before my fingers clenched into his hand, no doubt drawing blood with my nails, my legs spasmed and my toes curled as the wave of pleasure crashed over me, again and again. I felt tears leaking from my eyes as I tried to scream but couldn't find the breath, twitching under Murphy's assault. Somewhere distant, I could hear him grunting as he pounded into me over and over, bringing fresh whimpers from me with each movement. When the quivering of my body finally began to subside, he thrust hard one last time, bowing my body until nothing but my shoulders and neck supported my weight. He came with a pained cry, the twitch inside of me as he unloaded sending me over the edge again. I was slowly lowered onto my back as I felt his body go limp, his hands loosening from mine. When I was flat again, he collapsed forward, boneless, the cool length of his body atop my own. Still damp with perspiration, his skin was a balm to the heat still smoldering under my own.

His cheek pressed to my still pounding heart, my hands fell useless onto his back, unable to muster the energy to do more than just lay there. I could feel him breathing, but I couldn't quite get my body to move to look at him. A particularly strong aftershock ran through my body and I moaned again. I felt him smile against me. A thick swallow, "Ye alright?"

I smiled to myself, "I'm glorious, Murph. I've never been better." He snorted, amused, against my skin.

"I'll not be able to make it up all those stairs for a bit still, girl."

I groaned. I had forgotten the stairs. "Ugh, me either."

"Then come down here with me," he said, sliding off of me, reaching back a long arm and snagging cushions off the couch. He laid them side by side in front of the fire. I grabbed a blanket off the back of the armchair and slid to the floor myself. I crawled to the cushions, laid on my side and Murphy curled to my back, pulling the blanket over us. He rested his arm under my head, slinging the other one over my hip, his fingers tracing shapes on my belly. I had forgotten how comfortable this was. It still felt a little strange, but only because Connor was still snoring upstairs. I was so warm and sated that I had started to nod off when I heard Murphy's voice.

My eyes snapped open, "What, sorry?"

He kissed my neck softly. "I asked what this scar was from?" he asked, fingering the knife scar on my belly. "Wanted to ask since I saw it, but…" he trailed off.

"I'm surprised you lasted this long, Murph," I said, smiling, closing my hand over his against my belly. I drew a deep breath and laid the story out for him. I could feel his body going taut behind me before I finished.

"Ye mean he let ye go to yer boy alone?" he asked, his voice like broken glass.

I furrowed my brow. "The other guy had a gun. He was more of a threat. I couldn't have taken him down. Besides, all I could think of was getting Seth away from that psycho and his knife. I wasn't planning, neither was Phil."

Murphy snorted against my neck. "If he wasn't planning, he should have gone after the boy. That would have been the instinctive thing. Protect the helpless," his voice was tight. He was honestly pissed.

"Murph," I began, unsure of how I would continue, wasn't sure how to defend Phil's action when I had never questioned them before.

"Sorry, girl. Shouldn't have asked."

"How could he have done it differently?" I asked, softly, more to myself than to Murphy.

"Rushed the guy with yer boy."

"And gotten shot in the process?"

"Got shot anyway," Murphy said, matter-of-factly. "Left ye to kill fer yerself, then protect yer boy. Shouldn't have had to do that, girl. Not you," he said, fingering my hair.

I had never really considered it before. The way Phil had handled it had made sense to me, but now that Murphy mentioned it, logic hadn't entered into my decision to go after Seth. It **had** been instinct. Nothing else had existed, except that red tunnel of rage with my boy at the end of it. Come to think of it, I very well could have gotten shot before Phil got to the guy with the gun, but the thought hadn't occurred to me at the time. In fact it hadn't occurred to me until just this second laying here half-naked in front of a fire with my vigilante ex.

"Sorry," he repeated. "I'll leave it. He and yer boy get along, though?"

I shrugged. "Well enough I suppose. It was better when Seth was younger, but the older he gets the more and more he's becoming like me and I think Phil was hoping to not have two of us to contend with in the house. Too many opinions that don't agree with his. Stressful."

He nodded, thoughtful.

I stared at the flames as they withered, I could feel Murphy building up to more questions behind me so I cut him off. "Think your legs could get you up the steps, now?"

He smiled. "Aye, I think so. I'll damp that," he said, gesturing at the fire. I nodded as I tried my own legs. They supported me, but they weren't happy about it as I settled my living room back into normalcy. As I bent over to pick up the blanket, Murphy's hands lighted around my hips. "Always like red on ye, girl. Sexy as hell."

I laughed as I straightened, leaning back into him, he had retrieved his boxers, but nothing else and I could feel the cool of him through the thin material of my robe. "Come on," I said, taking his hand in mine, leading him up the stairs. Very slowly.

Connor was on his back next to the wall when we walked in, his arm outstretched waiting for me to crawl in beside him. I untied the robe and let it fall from my shoulders and I heard Murphy do the same with his boxers behind me. I pulled back the bedspread and scooted in, Connor's body creating an oven under the heavy covers. I cuddled to Connor's side, my head on his outstretched arm which contracted on instinct, wrapping around my shoulders, curling me to him. I laid my hand on his chest and he found it with his other hand, lacing our fingers and placing my palm over his heart.

I felt Murphy slide in behind me, spooning to my back, his curves and position achingly comforting. His body molded to mine, one hand over my hip, the other slid between my shoulder and Connor's arm, wrapping around my chest. I had started to drift off, before Murphy spoke again. "We weren't goin ta tell ye. When we found out ye were married, we thought it would be better not to say anything."

I looked back over my shoulder and met Murphy's blazing blue eyes. Those eyes that had always been straight with me. "Tell me what?" He swallowed and looked down, I nudged his chin with my shoulder until he looked back up. "Tell me what?"

"I love ye, girl." Murphy had always been the more emotional and there was so much feeling in those four little words, I choked for a second. Just long enough for him to start to backpedal. "I mean, I know it's not right, ye being married and a ma and all, but…"

I pulled my hands away from Connor, who grunted in protest, but let me go, turned in Murphy's arms to face him, pulled his face to mine and silenced him as I pressed my lips to his. I kissed him for a solid second before he reacted, sliding his hand up to my face, my hair, and held me close, kissing me back. Somewhere in the proceedings I started crying, but I didn't know it until I tasted salt on my lips. I pulled back and Murphy brushed my tears away with his thumbs. I kissed him once more, resting my hand on his cheek, "I love you, too, Murphy. Never stopped. Always will."

He smiled. That Murphy smile and kissed me once more as Connor started to root around for me at my back. I grinned at him before I turned back to his brother, taking up my former position and settling in, Murphy closing in behind me.

I was more relaxed than I had been in longer than I could remember, wrapped in familiar limbs, comfortable scents and warmth. The ever-soothing heartbeats of my twins beating in almost unison against my palm and my back, their breathing quickly aligning as Murphy drifted off. And I lay there in between them. Contented. Hell, who was I kidding? Happy. Sated. Loved. I smiled weakly to myself as Murphy started to snuffle behind my back as he fell into a deep sleep, his hand pulling my hip possessively to him as Connor's arm tightened around my neck, holding me tighter to his chest. I squeezed his hand as I snuggled to him, pressing my ass into Murphy as I groped with my free hand for the one he had slung over my hip. My boys were here. Surrounding me. I couldn't have been happier and I fell into a deeply restful sleep.

Of course with morning came the realization that I was about to lose them all over again.