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by Maya Banks
If he retreated, then she’d have to repeat it all over again, and he’d spare her what hurt he could. Closing his eyes, gritting his teeth tightly as though he were experiencing the sweetest agony, he thrust all the way home.
She bucked upward, crying out, even as his hands had solidly anchored her hips. He immediately peppered her face, eyes, forehead, nose, lips, with kisses, “sorry” a litany between each kiss.
“I’m so sorry I hurt you, Honor,” he said, allowing the torture in his voice to tear free.
Her smile slid into the deepest recesses of his very being.
“Move with me,” she invited huskily. “It doesn’t hurt so much anymore. And if you . . .”
She dropped off shyly, averting her gaze.
His heart turned over in his chest.
“What do you need for me to do, baby?” he asked tenderly.
“Touch me,” she whispered. “Put your mouth on my breasts.”
He slid his hand between their joined bodies and stroked one finger over her slick nub and was rewarded with an instant surge of heated moisture coating his dick. He groaned even as he lowered his head to suck one straining nipple into his mouth, coaxing it to rigidity. He took his time, tonguing in and lapping, circling a damp trail around the puckered crest. Then he turned his focus to her other breast, giving it equal attention until she was breathless and moving restlessly beneath him.
“Now?” he asked, the words straining past his clenched jaw.
“Now,” she agreed, her eyes glowing with desire she didn’t try to hide from him.
He gripped her hips, not to hurt her, but to hold her in place, carefully anchored between him and the bed so she didn’t hurt herself. Then he surged forward. He withdrew, dragging his dick through engorged, highly sensitized flesh, each stroke of her velvety plush pussy sending electric shocks down his spine. His balls gathered tightly to the point of pain, but this wasn’t for him. He wasn’t taking. He was giving. His final gift to her.
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.
But she only smiled, her eyes lighting, her expression so giving and generous that it humbled
him.
“I promise,” she said solemnly. “But Hancock, just so you know? Getting to touch you and give you even a tenth of the pleasure you gave me will never hurt me. I want it too badly for pain to even register. Give me this. Give yourself this,” she added gently, almost as if she knew he felt he didn’t deserve it but that he also wanted it like he wanted to breathe.
Then her eyelashes fluttered and cast downward, her cheeks a dusty pink as though she were embarrassed.
Once more he slid his fingers underneath her chin, coaxing it upward so he could see into her eyes and see what bothered her.
“Tell me what is frightening you, Honor,” he said, injecting every ounce of patience and tenderness he was capable of into his voice.
She swallowed and then took a deep breath. “I’m not sure how to please you, and I want that very much, Hancock. You gave me so much. I never imagined it could be like that. I don’t deceive myself into believing I can give you even a fraction of what you gave me, but I want you to feel good. I want what I do to you to feel good. But I don’t know how.”
The last came out in frustration, almost anger. Self-directed anger.
“Can you show me how to please you?” she whispered. “Can you show me what to do and how to do it?”
Already moisture beaded the tip of his dick, and her gaze was drawn to the pearls, seemingly fascinated. Almost as if she couldn’t help it, drawn to the sight, she leaned down and delicately licked one of the drops away.
His entire cock jerked and his hips bucked, curses tearing from his lips. His fingers formed tight fists, gathering the sheets in his hands as he held on for dear life.
She immediately pulled away, her eyes stricken, tears welling in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she rushed to say, as if fearing she’d made him angry. Then she pounded her fist against her leg, causing him to instantly catch her hand to ensure she didn’t reopen the stitches at her wrists. He rubbed his thumb caressingly over her skin and then brought her hand to his mouth and kissed each knuckle. Every fingertip, drawing each into his mouth and suckling them.
Then he allowed each finger deeper entrance, licking at the tip and then the underneath of her smooth fingers, taking it to the back of his throat and then swallowing around it.
Her eyes widened in sudden understanding. He was showing her how to please him. How to take his cock in her mouth and please him.
“Honor, you did nothing wrong,” he said, not recognizing the tender caress that suddenly became his voice. He sounded throaty and seductive, like he was wooing the most important female in the world. One he must make his or die.
“God, if you did anything righter I’d shatter. Look at me, baby. See me. Really see me.”
Reluctantly, she lifted her eyes to meet his.
“Do I look like I’m not pleased with anything you’re doing? See me, Honor. See what you do to me. I’m as naked and as vulnerable as a newborn babe, and believe me, I do not like feeling that way. Except,” he said, drawing it out, “for you. With you. Only with you.”
She smiled then, relief lighting her deep brown eyes until they warmed him to his very soul.
“There is nothing you can do that I won’t love and be begging—yes, that’s right, Honor, I said begging—for more. You’ll have me on my knees and at your mercy for just a touch from you. Your mouth. Your nipples. Your body. I want it all.”
“You don’t mind my inexperience then,” she said in a pleased tone.
He gathered her face in his hands, tangling his fingers in her hair as he took her mouth in a breathless motion. Then he pulled back, still running his fingers through the silken strands of her hair as if he simply couldn’t get enough of touching her.
“I love that I’m the only man who’s ever touched you this intimately. I’m glad that I’m the only man you’ve ever touched so intimately. The only man who’s had his dick in your sweet mouth and felt the touch of that velvety soft tongue. God, what you do to me, Honor. Damn me to hell for taking such a precious gift when I have nothing to give you in return except heartbreak and betrayal.”
Tears burned his eyes and he did nothing to shield his emotions from her, something he would have never done in the past with anyone. No one saw into him. Not even his family. They caught glimpses, but only what he wanted them to see. Just enough so they’d know he did love them.
But Honor got all of him. Every single thing he’d spent a lifetime suppressing. Building impenetrable fortresses around the things that mattered to him until they simply no longer existed. He became what he set out to become. The ultimate assassin. No feelings to muck things up. No emotions to interfere in a mission.
But he’d known for a while now that his heart was no longer in it. That he no longer had a heart or a soul. Honor had been the final nail in his coffin and after this—her—he’d walk away and never look back. He’d live the kind of life Honor would have wanted him to have—or try. How could a man ever live with peace knowing he’d destroyed the very essence of good? Even if it was to take out the very face of evil and save thousands of innocent women, children and men?
Was it really worth it?
Was it?
Honor’s eyes narrowed as she stared back at Hancock. “You do not have the look of a pleased man right now.”
He smiled. Really smiled, allowing the demons and shadows that haunted him and would haunt him the rest of his life to slip away, because nothing would interfere in this one brief shining moment in the sun. He’d wrap himself in Honor’s light and goodness and keep it always.
“That’s because your mouth isn’t where it should be,” he murmured, thumbing at her bottom lip before slipping it inside, rubbing softly over the top of her tongue.
“Then show me,” she said, breathless, her respirations speeding up, her nipples puckering into taut, rigid points.
Unable to resist, he slid his hand between her thighs and slipped one long finger inside her, enjoying the hiss of pleasure and surprise that escaped her lips.
Oh yes, she was wet and excited. Over the idea of pleasuring him.
He tossed a pillow onto the floor beside the bed, and then he reverently and ever so carefully lifted her in his arms and then lowered her onto her knees on the pillow so it would cushion her from the hard floor.
He sat on the edge of the bed, thighs spread, his dick straining upward, flat against his abdomen, pre-cum still beading the tip. Honor looked at it again and unconsciously licked her lips, eliciting a groan from him.
“Baby, you have to stop that,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll come before I ever get inside that sweet mouth, and right now I’m dying to get in there.”
“Then do it,” she said sweetly, her innocence flowing over him like cleansing rain. “You do it, Hancock. I want you to have control. Show me what you like. How to please you. I won’t fail you.”
Jesus H. Christ. How could she possibly fail to please him? Just her touching him pleased him. He’d known for a long time he was damned to hell, but being with her, kissing her, touching her, being so deep inside her that they became one person, one soul, one being, for that brief moment he’d seen heaven, and he’d never wanted anything more badly in his life.
Not giving words to those thoughts because then he’d be lost forever, he tangled his fingers in her hair, palming both sides of her head to pull her forward.
“Open your mouth,” he said gruffly. “But guard your teeth. Teeth are . . . painful and not in a good way.”
She smiled just as he pulled her to his mouth, and she parted her lips dutifully.
“Now relax and trust me. We’ll start slow and let you get used to it. Play with and tease the head. Especially underneath. Use only your tongue.”
She did exactly as he instructed. Too well. He threw back his head at the first tentative touch of her tongue circling the broad head of his penis. This. This was heaven. She was heaven. An angel.
She licked and teased, paying special attention to the underside of the flared tip, a
nd then traced the edges of the head, the ridge between it and the length of his shaft.
His breath escaped in a long hiss and his grip tightened in her hair and against her head, but she issued no complaint. She didn’t even flinch, but he still forced himself to be more gentle, reminding himself that she was not unhurt. She shouldn’t even be doing this. She’d been attacked, shot and then nearly raped by that son of a bitch Bristow. What was he thinking, subjecting her to this when she should be lying in his arms resting?
And yet the selfish part of him couldn’t deny himself this one pleasure. The only thing he’d ever wanted for himself. The only thing he’d ever needed. He, who needed nothing and no one. But he needed her.
Reluctantly he pulled himself from her satin lips and simply sat there, his breaths harsh and loud in the quiet room.
“Just give me a minute, baby,” he rasped out.
“Then you like it?” she asked shyly. “Am I doing what you like?”
He bent down, dragging himself to her mouth to kiss her, to show her just how damn much he liked it.
“I don’t like it. I fucking love it.”
She rewarded him with a smile that stole the breath right from his lungs.
“I want more now,” she said.
“You’ll get it,” he promised.
Once more palming her head and tangling his fingers more harshly than he intended, he guided her back to his straining dick.
“I’m going to start with shallow thrusts to allow you time to adjust. I don’t want you to panic. Breathe through your nose. When I think you’re ready, I’m going deeper. I’m going to go very deep,” he said, clear warning in his voice. Her one chance to back out.
But she didn’t so much as hesitate. She only nodded, excitement and arousal flaring in her eyes.
“Trust me,” he said. “I’ll hold you there and I want you to swallow around the head, milking me. The pleasure is indescribable. But don’t panic. I’ll know when you need to breathe and I’ll pull back. But I’m going to push you, Honor. I’m going to see how much you can take. If at any time it’s too much, you need a break or you want me to stop, you squeeze my legs.”