Page 139 of How to Love a Duke in Ten Days
She wanted to ask him if he was all right. To soothe and strengthen him as he had done for her, but all she could do was focus on the stretching, straining pulse of her intimate flesh as it struggled to contain the length of him. She wriggled a little, hoping it would pull him deeper, only gaining perhaps another inch.
He let out a few foul curses on a long breath. “Tell me to stop,” he begged. “Don’t let me hurt you.”
“Don’t stop,” she panted, pressing her hips down, seeking the relief she knew existed at the end of this. “Just… just…please.”
He understood her plea, and his fingers curled up and around her shoulders, pulling her down to meet his hips in one strong, lithe push.
She cried out, unable to stop herself.
“I’m sorry,” he said tightly, making to retreat.
“No.” She locked arms around him, grinding her hips down against his. “Don’t. Move.” Her order was a hissed whisper, given through a throat clogged with a million opposing emotions.
He obeyed.
At first, all she could feel was him inside of her. This foreign, fierce, pulsing shaft of unyielding flesh and heat. She stayed like that for a moment, just feeling. Experiencing. Analyzing.
No pain. No tearing. Just this uncomfortable pressure at first, which rapidly gave way to an exquisite sort of fullness.
Breath began to infuse her again as she latched on to that one fact.
No pain. Just Piers.
This man, who was so much more than what was inside of her. He was the gentle breath at her ear. The smooth skin stretched over the iron cables of his shoulders and spine as she gripped him like a woman about to fall away from herself.
The tender, banked power of the arms ensconcing her in a cocoon of comfort, supporting her entire weight. The coarse hair and dense muscle of his chest, abrading her sensitive breasts as she crushed them against him.
The softer hair of his solid legs tickling at the thin, sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
He was all of these things, and so much more than she could possibly have fathomed.
Her protector. Her husband.
Her lover.
Even though every primitive instinct Piers possessed screamed at him to move. To thrust. To fuck. He fought himself with all the ferocity of an adversary.
Because the instinct to protect his woman from any and all threats had become the strongest of all.
Even if that threat was his own primal need.
Besides. He was inside of her. Finally. Locked within a body more sweet and tight and wet than even his fantasies could have devised.
It was enough.
And it would never be enough.
It was more than he dared hope for. More than he deserved, this exquisite gift of her trust.
And still he longed for more.
If it was as far as she could go tonight, he’d understand.
If she withdrew now, she’d take a bit of his soul with her.
It was the most difficult thing he’d ever done, preparing to let her go should her fear overtake her.
Let me show you how sweet it can be,he silently urged.Let me claim you as mine, so you no longer belong to the past.
