Page 87 of Almost A Scoundrel

“Christ,” Deerhurst all but growled as he pushed inside of her. It took all his strength to be gentle, to go slow and not turn into a ravening beast. He had never unraveled in such a profound way as he did with Phaedra. Not in his four-and-thirty years had he trembled at a woman’s touch.

Tremble, for heaven’s sake.

Never.

Not until her.

“Oh, my.” She threaded one hand in his hair while the other gripped his back. “That feels...”

Bloody amazing.

Absolutely torturous.

Deerhurst softly sucked on her lower lip, taking care to be as gentle as possible. He was never going to be the same after tonight. Every last one of the defenses he had painstakingly built over the years after the nightmare with that woman, ever since he found his daughter, the secrets he held so close to his heart came crashing down with each inch he entered her.

Deerhurst inhaled a shaky breath, in awe that he had found a woman like her. A woman who had lived next door to him for years. And yet, they had only encountered each other when, perhaps unbeknownst to them at the time, they had needed each other most. Whatever the case, whatever the reason, there would never be anyone like her in his life again. He understood that down to his bones. She was the one for him.

Forever and always.

It was her or nobody.

One last push brought him home, and he couldn’t help the shudder that rushed down his spine when he felt her innocence give way.

Mine.

Her entire body tensed around him.

“Are you all right?” His voice came out husky, guttural, ravaged with desire.

“Yes,” she said with a smile and wiggled. “I feel so full.”

Deerhurst grinned and captured her lips for a quick kiss. “Full of me.”

“You sound very pleased with yourself.”

“That’s because I am,” he admitted and trailed his tongue along the arch of her neck. Instinct demanded he move, but Deerhurst had to give her a moment to adjust. “Are you comfortable?”

“No.”

He stilled, his heart dropping. Had he hurt her? “Should we stop?”

“No! Why would you want to stop?” She arched beneath him. “Stopping is the problem.”

He let out the breath he’d been holding. “Thank the Saints. I might just go up in flames if you told me to stop.”

She kissed his chin. “I need you to...” She hesitated.

“I know exactly what you need, love. Hold me tight.”

She did as she was told.

His hands slid beneath her buttocks to keep her in place as he slowly began to thrust. She whimpered beneath him, a sound Deerhurst would cherish all his life. He worshipped her until her skin flushed a splendid shade of pink, until he could barely breathe with how tight she held onto him. A vision so damn beautiful, he nearly came like a boy who just discovered his first taste of pleasure.

“Is this what you need?” he asked, fire licking up his spine as he withdrew slowly and pushed in deep.

“Yes.”

His mouth closed over her breasts, hot and demanding, groaning at the sweetness of their taste. He teased the peaks of her nipples until she arched beneath him with pleasure.