He had to push that thought away as heavy, aching sorrow filled his heart, his lungs, his very soul. And instead he concentrated on making this as pleasurable as he hoped she would think it to be.
He pushed deep, holding himself there, closing his eyes and simply giving himself over to the rush of pleasure enveloping him. Sweetness that he’d never before known in his life surrounding him and pulling him further into its web of ecstasy.
“Please,” she begged, her voice hoarse with strain. “I need you now, Hancock. I’m so close . . . but I don’t know what to do.”
She sounded panicked and unsure of herself. He gathered her close, wrapping his arms around her fragile body, and held her as she deserved to be held the first time someone made love to her. Only his hips moved, undulating up and over hers, pushing deep and then withdrawing.
But when her mouth nuzzled against his neck and nipped before kissing a line to his ear and sucking the lobe into her mouth, he saw stars and his body was no longer his to control. It was hers. Only hers.
He powered forward again and again.
“Yes,” she moaned. “That, Hancock. That. Please don’t stop. I’m so close but I don’t know what I’m close to!”
The frustration and innocence in her voice drove him those last precious inches over the brink. He slid one arm down underneath her sweet ass and lifted her, angling so he could drive even deeper, and then he set a pace that left them both gasping, moaning, writhing.
Her legs slid around his, anchoring her to him.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispered. “Lock them around me and hold me tight. Trust me to get you where you want to go. Don’t be afraid. I’ll be there to catch you. Just let yourself go.”
After his second thrust, with her legs locked around his, she shattered in his arms, shivering, quaking, her cries splitting the night. The surge of wetness around his dick stole the last of his wavering control and he followed close behind her, making sure she went first, that she found her pleasure and release before him. Only when she was in the throes of her orgasm did he plunge deep and hold himself there, emptying himself deep within her body.
He’d never felt a sense of homecoming that rivaled the touching of two hearts, body and soul. He knew he never would again.
CHAPTER 27
HANCOCK held Honor tightly in his arms as they lay side by side, ensuring that her injured side wasn’t the one she lay on or put any pressure on. Quiet had descended and neither made effort to disturb the peace that enveloped them.
She snuggled deeper into his embrace, as if she could burrow inside him and stay for all time. Didn’t she know she’d already done that? That no matter where he went in this life, he’d carry a part of her with him. And all the regret for what could never be.
He hated himself. His hatred was a living, fire-breathing entity that had taken on a life of its own, slowly consuming him until nothing would remain except the hollow shell of a man-machine. Because no man would ever allow the woman lying in his arms to come to harm.
She was silent, but as he gazed at her, he could see that her brow was furrowed and her eyes shadowed. He frowned. Had he hurt her after all? Did she regret what she’d asked him to do? Because there was not a single part of him that regretted making her his. Taking something that would never belong to anyone else. Her innocence. Her virginity. The honor of being the first man to have ever made love to Honor.
If that made him a primitive, chest-beating beast of a caveman, so be it. He’d certainly been called worse.
“What are you thinking?” he asked softly. “Did I hurt you? Do you regret what we did?”
Her eyes immediately became fierce. “No. Never! I will never regret this. It’s just that . . .”
Her eyes lowered and shame burned red on her cheeks.
He tilted her chin up with a gentle finger. “What is it, Honor? You must know you can tell me anything.”
“Even if what I say breaks a promise I made to you?”
This time his brow furrowed. She hadn’t made many promises. Only not to ask for another thing. Ah. That must be what she was grappling with. She had another request, but she felt honor bound not to ask because she’d promised she wouldn’t ask for more and she was a woman who kept her word.
“Tell me what you want,” he said, stroking his fingertip along her jaw until she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes with contentment.
“I know I said I would ask for nothing more than for you to make love to me, but . . .”
“But?” he prompted.
“But I would very much like to touch you. To make love to you,” she said earnestly. “I want to taste you. I want to give you as much pleasure as you gave me.”
He groaned. “Baby, if you don’t think you gave me pleasure, then we need to have a serious come-to-Jesus meeting right now. I have never felt more pleasure in my life than when we made love. Never.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “But, Hancock, I was a virgin. I had no clue what I was doing! How could it possibly have been enjoyable to you?”
“Trust me, baby. If it had been any better, I’d be a dead man.”
Her eyes laughed at him, but then she sobered. “Would you mind so terribly much if I touched you and tasted you like you did me?”
“Men would kill for an opportunity for what you’re offering, Honor. I’m no exception. But I want a promise from you in exchange.”
She sent him a puzzled look.
“You will do nothing that hurts you. If I even think you’re in pain, it ends. I won’t budge on this, Honor,” he said, his tone grave so she’d know he was utterly serious. He didn’t want to piss her off, but neither did he want her in pain while trying to pleasure him, for fuck’s sake. He who didn’t deserve anything but hatred and cold disdain from this beautiful woman, inside and out. Who shone like a radiant ray of sunshine, warming places in him that had only ever felt cold and darkness.