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, 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.