His sounds, his shouts, his wild, punishing thrusts. His hands on my ass, cupping me higher to him so he could grind against me, driving me closer to the brink. "Go on, lass," he urged me, no, begged me. "Let me hear it. I want to hear you scream."

It's not me. I don't fall apart. I don't crumble to pieces and I don't lose myself in anyone. I was my own woman through and through but in this moment I was pretty sure I didn't want to be anything but his. That feeling of being his, it was fucking incredible and it was filling me up, pouring and gushing through me and I was so full of that amazing feeling that if I didn't open my mouth and let some of the amazingness out I might get washed away in the flood that was now consuming me. So it made perfect fucking sense for me to suddenly start to scream even though I never had before. Because I wasn't screaming, not really. No, I was singing out the sound of how he was making me feel. Nothing had ever felt this amazing and something this amazing deserved its own kind of song.

It felt like I was coming forever. I was coming and screaming and cupping his face and kissing him, then gasping for breath and coming some more. On and on it took me, stretching out into infinity and I stretched out like I could just grasp the edge of something precious before it slipped through my fingers and sent me crumpling back down again. I fell back gasping like I'd been caught up in a drowning wave and then washed up suddenly on shore again.

"Fuck," he murmured into my neck and my face was wet and I didn't even know why because I was so fucking happy to be with him like this. My hands found his hair, newly shorn and soft and brushed through it, making sure I could see his face, watching him watching me.

"I like making you scream," he whispered, pushing himself up on his elbows. I groaned as he drove into me, quick, darting movements of his hips before he pushed up to a kneel. "Do it again."

"I think I'm dead," I moaned. I very well could be.

He grinned and reached down, pressing his thumb over my clit in time with his thrusts. "Wake up, lass," he said, that dimple blazing as he watched me respond. "Wake up and let me hear you sing one more time. Let's make it a fucking duet."

His quick moving thumb was one thing, but it was his words that sent me over the edge. "That's right lass," he growled as I arched up to meet him again. "Scream for me, but not yet," he thrust harder, eliciting little hiccuping yelps from my mouth. "Yes, I feel you getting there. You feel so fucking good like this, I'm so fucking close CeCe. Wait for me..."

"Fuck!" I was about to shatter into a million jagged pieces.

"Do you want to come now?" he asked.

"Yes!"

"Say please, C. Ask me to make you come."

"Fucking hell Ewan, please! Please make me come!"

He grinned and drew himself nearly the whole way out of me before slamming himself so high, so deep and then he just...stayed there, grinding his hips in a full circle with his thumb on my clit in the perfect, precise way I needed and I was already so far gone, so lost in him that I could barely wait but he still hadn't said it so...

"Come for me, CeCe."

A bomb detonated under my skin and the shock wave roiled outward, liquifying me from the inside out. I had no idea who was screaming, him or most likely me. Ewan jerked over me, his whole body tense and his groan was its own kind of song. A song composed just for me. The second one he'd written for me. And as rational thought slowly made its way back into my brain, the thought made me smile.

"Hey." A light sheen of sweat glistened on his beautiful face. He was breathing hard, clearly as gobsmacked by what we'd just done as I was, but he still peered down at me with concern as I giggled wildly, like a crazy person, underneath him. "What's funny, lass?"

I licked my lips and then grinned back at him and shook my head. I couldn't put it into words, not yet anyway, and he seemed to understand that. He pulled out, and watching him carefully tie off the condom to dispose of it gave me an odd tug in my stomach. And the tug pulled even harder when he disappeared for a moment and then reappeared with a washcloth. When he pressed the warm cloth to my pussy, gently cleaning me up, I didn't understand the feelings that were welling up inside of me. My limbs were jelly, my body sinking heavily into his sheets. I'd barely done more than lie here while Ewan did all the work, but I felt utterly drained and spent.

Wrecked, even.

Another smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. He set the cloth on the bedside table and leaned over me, tracing the curve of my smile with a searching finger before leaning down to kiss me so sweetly that tears sprang to my eyes.

"Hey?" he breathed again, a question this time. "Are you good?"

"That was..." Words were still failing me.

"Intense?"

"Yeah."

He took a deep breath. "For me too."

"Yeah?" Suddenly I had to blink rapidly to keep the tears from spilling. What now? Did I ask to sleep over? Did I gather my things? Did he kiss me good night at the door with the promise to see me in the morning? What if there was no promise? What if the song wasn't really just for me?

He looked down, and I swore that he understood what was happening to me even though I had no idea what it was myself because he crawled over to the other side of the bed and fitted himself along the curve of my body again. "Stay," he whispered into my neck. "Please stay with me?"

"Sure," I breathed, exhaling out the knot that had been sitting in my gut forever. He'd sworn he would protect me from whatever I needed protecting from. Myself most of all. "I can stay."

His sigh sounded just like mine did. Relief. This was still the worst idea ever. This was still a giant mistake. But as I slowly descended into the heaviness of sleep, with Ewan's arms wrapped tightly around me, I had a hard time believing it was anything but exactly the right thing to do.