Part 28 (1/2)

But her fingers dug into his damp s.h.i.+rt, clenching and unclenching in time with the rhythm of his mouth on her breast.

He ripped his trousers open. The pounding in his head was so loud, he hardly heard the material shredding.

With ruthless hands, he angled her hips up and plunged into her.

Heat.

Pressure.

One fragile, glowing moment that might have been peace.

Stray details overwhelmed starved senses. Her scent. The soft rattle of her breathing. The way she quivered under him.

He rose to look at her. Her eyes were closed, and her face was stark with tension. d.a.m.n it, he must be hurting her. Principle insisted he stop, withdraw, leave her be.

He began to pull out. Meaning to end this travesty. But the sensation of his tumescent flesh sliding free of her sleek pa.s.sage nearly blew the top of his head off. Pleasure so intense it edged on pain incinerated him in a white-hot blast.

His scruples dissolved to ash. His heart tolled a despairing note as he thrust back inside her. Hard. Demanding. Pitiless.

She closed around him with what felt like welcome. This time he paused, luxuriating in the tightness. He s.h.i.+fted. Edged deeper.

Charis moaned, a low, guttural sound that resonated in his gut. The hands on his shoulders slid down to curl around his straining back. She tilted her hips higher.

Her eyes opened. The pupils were dilated, and the irises were rich gold. The skin on her face stretched tight. She tipped her head back, her thick lashes fluttered down, and she arched with a long, low, keening sound.

What frail restraints he'd imposed snapped. There was just the hot clasp of her body and his thundering need.

He changed the angle of penetration. Her body moved with him. He withdrew and thrust again. He needed the rhythm more than he needed breath.

Faster.

Harder.

The endless rocking of his hips against hers. The slide of his flesh into her slender body. The creak of the bed. The rustle of the sheets. The catch of her breath.

His body tensed. The pace became wilder.

His release built, knotting his spine, twisting his gut, tightening his b.a.l.l.s to agony.

He lifted his head, and his throat clenched on a shout. Anguish. Shame. Possession.

Freedom.

One last thrust. His world ignited into fire.

He flooded her with his agony and his loss and his anger. His hips jerked as the crisis flung him into eternity.

For a long time, Gideon's mind closed down to anything but the volcanic release.

He slumped over her, gasping for breath. There was only his quivering body, the gallop of his heart, the warm embrace of darkness.

He was utterly exhausted. Weary to the point of torpor.

Vaguely, he heard her make a sound of discomfort.

He tried to shut it from his mind. He belonged in this darkness. He wanted to stay here.

He'd acted like a beast.

The unwelcome knowledge nibbled at the blanketing stillness.

Oh, merciful G.o.d, what have I done?

With a groan of utter desolation, he pulled free and rolled onto his back. If he could trust his legs to carry him, he'd walk out.

He stared at the ceiling, waiting for his breath to steady and his heartbeat to resume its usual rate. Waiting for the world to crash in on him.

In spite of his howling conscience, his physical self relished what he'd done. The sheer power of the experience eclipsed every previous s.e.xual encounter the way the sun outshone a candle.

He stirred, turned his head to look at Charis. The movement cost the last of his depleted strength. She'd drained him to the lees.

”Are you all right?” he asked gruffly.

She was in profile. She licked her lips. The innocent movement sent a smoldering bolt to his loins. Suddenly, he wasn't quite as exhausted as he had been.

She made no attempt to cover her nakedness. Knowing she lay bare beside him piqued his desire. He, on the other hand, hadn't had the finesse to do more than tear his trousers open and have at her.

”Perfectly, thank you.”

Gideon frowned. Her polite, detached tone worried him.

Perhaps he really had hurt her. He leaned up on one elbow to see into her face. ”I fell on you like a hungry dog on a bone.”

She stared upward. He wondered what her determinedly neutral expression concealed. Devastation? Fury? Pain? Oh, h.e.l.l, don't let him have done her injury. He'd been pa.s.sionately unrestrained, and until two nights ago, she'd been a virgin.

She glanced at him out the corner of her eye. ”You're not shaking. You're not sick. You're not sweating.”

He frowned. ”I'm worried about you. Forget about me.”

”You forgot about you.”

She sat up, drawing her knees up. The girlish grace of the movement captured his attention, stirred his interest. Then he realized what she'd said.

”Was that an experiment?” Resentment stirred under his concern. ”You've got a b.l.o.o.d.y cheek.”

She bent so her thick hair fell forward, hiding her expression. ”I couldn't see how else to test if what I guessed was true.”