Sweeney takes a slow, deep inhale as he thinks on it. Normally, talking's not a priority for him during sex, but he would be lying to say hearing it in his own tongue doesn't make it more erotic. So he takes a long moment to consider.

"Fuck, ain't gonna complain 'bout any of those. I just want ya ta do it fer you." He's not looking to get out of the question, he just wants to put the most important part first.

In that vein, he tips his head to her. "Ba mhaith liom seo." His gaze lingers on hers as he whispers. "I want this."

Sweeney's tongue rubs against the roof of his mouth as pictures collect in his brain. "Éileamh orm," his voice falling huskier. "Claim me."

One catches in his throat, and his eyes dip as he keeps from giving it name.