What a Duke Dares (Sons of Sin 3)
Page 63
She was woefully removed from squirming urgency. But she was no longer so tense that she’d likely break if he made the slightest twitch.
Every muscle howling for release, he rose on his arms. He opened his eyes and saw her bite her lip to stifle a protest at his movement. Hell, he knew he hurt her. Guilt sliced at him like razors.
She stared up at the tester, embroidered with gilt Rothermere unicorns. Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes to soak the black hair spread around her like tangled silk. Compared to her ashen cheeks, her lips seemed startlingly red, bruised with his kisses.
“For pity’s sake, end this.” Her demand rasped across his nerves. “I want this over.”
“My dear—”
He faltered into silence. After his ruthlessness, he had no right to speak endearments. His lips brushed hers in a kiss meant to comfort, but her nearness defeated him and he deepened the contact. He tasted tears.
Dear God, he was a swine. Self-disgust struggled to rise above his craving to complete the act.
Gingerly, he retreated. Her breathtaking tightness made every inch excruciating and rapturous. Then very carefully, he eased inside, hearing her muffled grunt of surprise at the unexpected smoothness. She didn’t stiffen against his invasion, although he caught the flinch she tried to hide.
Brave Penelope.
He moved again, gently, although the need to lose himself shook good intentions. He hooked a hand beneath her knee, bending it to aid his entry.
Another withdrawal. Another careful thrust. Rewarded with a sigh, this time conveying something other than discomfort.
He shifted again and again, desperate to grant her some scrap of pleasure to make up for his sins. But with every moment, control frayed.
On a long groan, his hips surged forward and his seed flooded his wife’s virgin womb.
Chapter Nineteen
Cam’s body crushed Pen into the mattress. Shock receded, but every breath reminded her that he hadn’t been gentle. She still couldn’t believe that the wild crescendo ended in such awkward intimacy.
Astonishment kept all other emotions at bay. Although resentment, regret, frustration, wretchedness, confusion all hovered.
She tried to make sense of what had happened. She’d always imagined that Cam would please her as a lover. She’d feared that he’d please her too much. His hold over her was already terrifyingly powerful.
The overture to Cam’s horrible invasion had been extraordinary. Better than being in his arms on the yacht. Better than anything in her life.
If the prelude was so breathtaking, surely the act itself must be even better. Then he’d thrust inside her. The union had given her no joy. Which seemed so unfair when she’d edged beyond discomfort and toward satisfaction before he brought everything to an abrupt end.
She made herself look at Cam, then wished to heaven that she hadn’t. Now the worst ache resided in her soul. He looked completely devastated and self-loathing clouded his green eyes.
“Pen, I’m so sorry,” he whispered brokenly, and kissed her forehead with a grieving tenderness that slashed her heart into tattered shreds. His tenderness was much more painful than his possession. She had no defenses against it.
He eased out, setting off twinges through her body. Stupidly she missed him the moment he withdrew to collapse beside her with an unhappy grunt.
“It was my duty,” she said dully. Now that the pain faded, she was aware of a heavy restlessness, like Cam had held her high in the air and couldn’t decide whether to drag her to safety or drop her to destruction.
“It should have been more.” Regret deepened his voice. “I was a clumsy oaf.”
“I’ll live.” With every minute, her aches subsided. The physical ones at least.
“Pen, don’t be gallant. I can’t bear it.” Then in a shaking voice, he asked, “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”
She started. “Why would you think I wasn’t?” Then shame filled her. “It’s because I let you touch me on the yacht, isn’t it?”
Shocked denial made him grimace. “No!”
She stared into Cam’s face and wondered just what he’d imagined she’d been up to. The possibilities made her sick. She looked away and mumbled, “I don’t want to talk about this now.”
“We’ll have to talk about it sometime,” he said implacably.