He didn't know if she cared if he smoked in her apartment, but after the going-over she'd given him, he hoped she'd have mercy on him. Currently, Pam was in the shower, after the two of them had sprawled on her massive bed, basking in the afterglow and sweat of their marathon fuck-fest. He smiled at the term he'd come up with and lit a cigarette. His eyelids were drooping already, and the clock beside the bed said it was close to two am. He wondered if she had to work tomorrow. He tried to remember if he did. Idly scratching his chest, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the sound of the water rushing in the bathroom.

"You're gonna set the place on fire."

Connor jumped with a small yelp, and sat up quickly, assessing the cigarette that had almost burned right to the filter. Pam stood next to the bed, towelling her hair, with another towel snugly wrapped around her torso.

"Sorry," Connor muttered, rolling from where he'd fallen asleep to stand on the other side of the bed.

"Pitch it in the toilet," Pam waved, turning to her closet and dropping the towel that was around her body.

The damp skin of her back distracted him, glistening in the low light of the bedroom, and he stared, watching as she moved and pulled on a pair of panties and then a barely there camisole.

"Feck!" he hissed as the cigarette finally burned down to his fingers.

Pam turned and grinned. "Murphy's gonna wonder what happened to you," she began, following him into the bathroom where he angrily tossed the offending butt into the toilet. Her fingertips traced his shoulders. "Scratches…" She touched his neck. "Bite marks…" She watched him inspect his wrists. "Rope burn. If this were an episode of CSI, Gil Grissom would have a field day."

He looked up at her in the mirror and cocked an eyebrow. "Aye." He then pointed to his hip. "But ye left yer callin' card."

"It's not a calling card if it's the first time I've used it. There's no pattern established yet."

"Yet?" Connor quipped. "Ye plan on doin' this again, do ya?"

"I hadn't found a worthy specimen. I settled for you." She flashed him a saucy grin.

Connor turned and leaned against counter, the cool marble tingling against his warm skin. "Maybe I settled for you."

Pam laughed out loud. "You call sending your brother into a tattoo parlour to track down a girl you'd met twice in as many days 'settling'? Connor MacManus, the Lord does not take kindly to liars."

"Aye, but I tink he'll forgive me on account dat you're in league with Lilith."

Pam gasped in mock horror and then whipped the wet towel out and snapped Connor's thigh. The yelp he let out made her smile. "Add welts to the list."

Connor growled playfully. "Yer an evil woman, Pamela Leary."

She shrugged and sashayed out of the bathroom. "That's not what you were screaming an hour ago."

"Hail Mary, you are feckin' divine, Pamela Leary!"

She glanced up the length of his body from where she was hovering over his pelvis (for the second time that night). She would have answered him but her mouth had been stuffed full of his cock for the last ten minutes, working him over like a melting popsicle in 100 degree heat. Her tongue had wrapped around him to the point his mind was a blur; she sucked hard, fast, expertly, and she knew just exactly when and how to use her hands. Connor couldn't believe his luck. Not only did Pamela Leary know how to suck a cock, she enjoyed doing it. Her lips nibbled the underside of the swollen head and she hummed there, licking the pre cum as it leaked out.

Above his head, his hands twitched in their bindings. Dead set to show him her talents, she had impressed him with the speed and accuracy in which she tied a handcuff knot – and one-handed, no less. She'd needed the other hand to grip his hair and hold him steady to her breasts, which swung into his face as she leaned over him. The rope she had used was something silky, and while it bit into the skin, it didn't burn, and it wasn't likely to budge, either. He gave it another hard pull to be sure. The wooden headboard heaved a painful creak.

" 'Ow long have ye had dis bed, lass?" Connor gasped as Pam gripped the base of his cock tightly between her thumb and forefinger.

"Hmm?" she hummed around him, causing his eyes to cross.

Connor heaved on the knots again and there was a sharp crack. Pam's head shot up, her lips coming off of him with a wet pop. She wiped her bottom lip with her thumb. "Shit, Connor, I can't afford…"

With a roar worthy of his warrior ancestors, Connor's biceps bulged; his triceps strained, and he broke clean through two slats of her wooden headboard. "I'll buy ye a new one," he growled, bucking and dislodging Pam in the process. Wood was tossed to one side. With his hands still bound, he lunged at her and managed to roll her to her front. As soon as she pushed up on her hands and knees, Connor saw his opportunity. He dove forward, grabbing one of her hands in both of his and dragging it behind her back. Holding it at the small of her back, he wedged a knee between hers and wiggled until his cock was lined up with the wettest, pinkest parts of her. Pressing his tongue between his teeth (he concentrated better that way), he pushed his hips forward and was rewarded with the tight, sucking feeling of Pam's pussy swallowing the first inches of him.

She hissed, and her ass wiggled delightfully. Balanced on one hand, she had enough leverage to push back against him every time he thrust into her. It wasn't enough. Sure, the fit was tight (ridiculously so) and the angle caused stuttering breaths to leave her, but she was twitching all over and could do nothing to relieve it.

"Conn," she growled, whimpering as his hands tightened around hers. "I could use a hand."

"Sorry, lass," he purred, thrusting his hips quick and light for a moment. They both paused their talking to moan at the sensations he was creating. "M'tied up at the moment. Yer gonna have te do it yerself." His hips crawled almost to a halt, barely rocking into her. "C'mon, lass. Make yerself come."

Her shoulder was burning due to the odd angle Connor was holding her at, but she refused to ask him to let her go. Shifting, she pressed her weight to her left shoulder and turned her head so that her face wouldn't be completely pressed into the mattress. This caused her ass to lift just as Connor shoved back into her and they both cried out and froze, shaking from the eye-crossing pleasure the new angle caused.

"Shit," Pam whispered.

"Feck," Connor muttered at the same time. He stroked in and out of her once. "M'not gonna last much longer," he huffed. Holding her one hand steady, the knot had left him just enough slack on the other hand to turn it (albeit at a strange angle) and press his thumb against the tighter of her two holes. He sank in a fraction of an inch and felt Pam's body shudder beneath him. "Ye got a handle on that pretty little clit o'yers?" he purred darkly.

She bit the inside of her cheek and squeezed her eyes shut as her fingertips found first the barbell and then the distended nub of her clit. She rubbed it between her first two fingers and wailed underneath him, thrashing with pleasure. The fact that he was breaching her anus just made her head turn to mush. Tears leaked out from behind her eyelids.

"I'll take dat as a yes," he said before snapping his hips back into her.

A sob tore from her throat on the first stroke. Hot and cold flashed down her thighs to her toes and curled there as she concentrated on nothing save for the stabbing pleasurable stretch of Connor's cock, the teasing burn of his thumb, and the itching tingle of her clit. Her breathing became frantic and later she'd blush from the looks she got from her neighbours, but right then, as Connor fucked her into the mattress, she howled, coming completely undone.

"Fuck, YES!" he cried. "Ah, Christ, lass, m'goin' te…" he hissed, sucking air into his lungs as he heaved behind her, and jammed into her rapidly. Faster, and then faster still, his hips snapped, and the sound of flesh against flesh was drowned out only by their collective moaning. He barrelled down the tracks to his finish, and came to a screaming halt. He froze, his hips snapping up into her, hers smashing back into his, and he cried out hoarsely, "Sin ceart agat cailin beag salach!" and came in a blazing torrent.

Connor wandered back into the bedroom and grinned at Pam as she stretched out on the bed. "What exactly were you screaming at the end?"

The Irishman smirked and ruffled his hair before stretching his arms over his head. "Didn't yer parents speak Gaelic?"

"Oh, they did – and they still do, especially with Grandma. I never picked it up."

"Now, that's a shame," Connor remarked, wagging a finger. "Perfectly good language almost fadin' away like dat. I could teach ya," he offered, crawling up from the end of the bed and hovering over her.

Pam rolled her eyes. "I think we can find better things to do with our mouths."

He paused and contemplated this. "Aye," he drawled. "But, then you'll know what m'sayin' when I'm cummin' so 'ard I see Jesus."

She burst out laughing and Connor joined a few seconds later. When it subsided he sighed, and rolled to the empty space beside her.

"S'late," Connor remarked.

"Hmm. You can stay, you know. No need to pussy-foot around it."

"Wasn't," Connor insisted, though secretly he was relieved that he wouldn't have to find his way back to his and Murphy's place while his brain remained a gooey mess. "Can I use yer shower?"

"Towels are under the sink," she instructed around a yawn. "I work at eleven tomorrow."

"I'll be gone by six. Have the early shift," he mumbled. "Have ye seen me unders?"

"Kitchen," she reminded him.

"Right. I'll be back."

"I'll be asleep," she called out just as he neared the bedroom door.

He paused and then wandered back, smirking at the way Pam forced herself to stay awake long enough to peruse his naked form. Placing one hand on the pillow next to her head, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "Sweet dreams, then," he murmured.

"Raid the fridge if you like," she added softly, snuggling into the pillows. "Just make coffee before you leave."

He winked and stood straight, and wandered out into the apartment to find his boxers. On his way back he turned out the lights, and set the bottle of whiskey and their empty glasses next to her sink. By the time he got back to her bedroom, she was out cold, sprawled on her front and hugging her pillow tightly. He grinned, and was once again thankful that he hadn't decided to go back to his loft. She was way prettier to wake up to than Murph.

So, what did Connor say at the end? You'll just have to stay tuned to find out. This is the end of Unlimited Blue, but don't worry, I've got plenty more in the chamber. Thanks again to all that stopped by, ready, reviewed, favorited, and subscribed!