It's obvious by his shiver beneath her that she'd managed the phrase readily enough. The breath catching sharply in his throat only accents the point. It's the forbidden, the knowing he shouldn't want it. 'Claiming' is plenty close enough.

Sweeney slips his arms around her back, his forearms parallel with her spine as he pulls her to him. His eyes search hers in need for her to understand. He whispers, even in his firmness.

"Never for me. Promise." The unspoken intent lingers. Only because it's what you truly want. He needs her to say it, to be a creature of her word. Sweeney doesn't want to live with it on his conscience.