Considering they'd nicked someone else's room to have a quick fuck on a convenient settee was bloody illicit enough, thanks. If it weren't for the weapons strewn about the room, he wouldn't mind so much if they were walked in on. But yes, that small detail was enough to hope he'd picked an unoccupied stateroom.
Cath was rather surprised he'd never driven them off something himself. As for breaking the surface they were fucking on, well, he purposely chose sturdy furnishings for their loveplay. Or walls or floors. Just common sense, that.
He sighed against Mae's neck as he shuddered through his orgasm, hips rolling into hers reflexively. Bloody fantastic, feeling her slicken and fill with his seed. With other women, he'd resorted to condoms for safety and such. Never with Maeve. She was his wife, there was no need for such things.
Cathair was more exhausted than he wanted to admit. He'd spent all bloody day running around, been through an aggravating meeting, searched fourteen rooms, then searched for Mae. He still had to go over the deckplans and start making lists of things that needed to be done. Then the sunset meeting and he wanted to talk to the girl Res about the guns.
All he wanted to do was curl up with his wife and fall asleep now. Fuck, he was getting too bloody old for this sort of thing.