Darkest Before Dawn

“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, and 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.”

His hands left her head long enough to collect her bandaged hands, sorrow once more filling him at the desperation it had taken for her to do this to herself. To actually try and end her precious life.

Carefully, as if they were the most fragile and cherished things in the world, he placed her palms down on top of his thighs, roped with thick muscles, hardened by the many years of relentless training and use.

He pressed her thumb into his flesh, looking at her as he did so. “That’s all you need to do. And I’ll stop. Immediately.”

She frowned and shook her head. “Hancock, I like touching you. I’m sure I’ll be squeezing you a lot. There has to be another signal. My hands will never stay still.”

He smiled. “Yes. They will. Because I’m telling you they will. Don’t move your hands, Honor. Only if you want me to stop. Do you understand?” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">