First the fingers

"Irish," she confirmed, her voice a little hoarse. She didn't know what to say. To say more would be to admit that she was really here and that this wasn't a dream, and she couldn't do that. Miranda Byrne didn't belong in this place.

"Miranda Byrne," he said again, like he was trying to make sure he remembered it. "Now, why don’t you hike up that skirt for me?"

The command, so blunt it was basically rude, should have shuttered her interest in him. Rightfully, she should have gone scrambling for her purse and the door. This was not the sort of thing a sensible woman did with her time, least of all a sensible married woman. Instead it acted like a key, turning a lock that had been rusted shut for years. She didn't speak. Holding his gaze, she shifted on the coarse wool couch, the sound of her dress's fabric whispering against it. She reached down, gathered the hem of her sensible, knee-length skirt, and slowly drew it up her thighs until the black lace of her underwear was visible for his appraisal.

"Good," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. He finished unbuttoning his shirt, letting it hang open, and came to kneel on the floor before the couch. His hands settled on the insides of her knees and pushed them gently apart. She gasped. Then, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her lace panties. "Lift your hips," he instructed, and she did. She actually did. He drew them down her legs and off, tossing them aside. She was completely exposed now, laid bare on a stranger's couch. The mutter of rain against the window could've been a full marching band. That's just the sound of your heart, she recognized.

Then his fingers were on her, the soft flesh of her pelvis. She gasped. One finger, then two, pushed inside her. The gasp erupted into a broken sound that she hadn't made for too many years. It was overwhelming, a shock that carried off her thoughts. Her back arched off the couch and her breath ceased. There was the feeling of his fingers moving within her, this stranger, the fabric of the couch against her bare bottom, and the terrifying realization of how desperately she had needed this.

"Ahh," she whined.

"Just like that," he said.