his gaze over her body, the view of him, worshipping her, threatening to send her over the edge instantly. She started to close her eyes, and he shook his head, growling his insistence that she remain with him. And she did, forgetting what ladies were supposed to be, what virgins were supposed to be. Forgetting everything but him, here, with her.
She was writhing against him, unable to stop herself from moving, and he placed one hand, large and brown from the sun, against her belly, holding her still as he worked her—stealing her breath and her thought with his stunning kisses, over and over, again and again, faster and faster until—
She flew apart beneath him, unable to keep her eyes open, letting them slide shut as he growled his displeasure—but he didn’t stop. Glorious, magnificent man . . . he didn’t stop. Instead, he held her through the wild orgasm—like nothing she’d ever experienced. He’d somehow taken pure pleasure and distilled it further. Pleasure incarnate.
He guided her back to earth, as though he were there for nothing more than to keep her safe. And, for a mad moment, Hattie imagined what it would be like for this man to keep her safe, forever. For him to want her, forever. For him to love her, forever.
Impossible.
Tears sprang, and he lifted his head, the muscles of his shoulders and arms tensing as worry crossed his brow. “Hattie?” Her name was harsh on his lips. He leaned over her, one hand coming to cradle her face. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
He ran that hand down her body and back up. “Christ. Did I hurt you?”
She couldn’t help the laugh that came. “No. No,” she said. “No. My God, you made me feel—” The tears again, threatening. “Whit, you made me feel wonderful. So wonderful that . . . I wish—”
He didn’t seem to believe her. He was too focused on her face, his beautiful eyes tracking hers, seeing everything.
“I wish—” she tried again.
“Tell me,” he said softly. “Tell me what you wish.”
I wish we could have more than tonight.
She reached for him, kissing him deep, leading the caress in a way she’d never done before. Putting every bit of herself into it—Hattie who resisted the past, Hattie who dreamed of a future, and Hattie who wanted a man like this to love her the way she’d always dreamed, quietly, in the darkness, when no one was looking.
She kissed him until they couldn’t speak, because she was too afraid to speak—too afraid that she might tell him that she wished for something he could not give her. Too afraid that he would leave her before she had the last taste of him. Before she had all of him. And when they pulled apart, she whispered against his lips, “I wish for the rest.”
He watched her for a long moment, and her heart stopped as she considered the possibility that he might not give it to her.
She slid a hand down the front of him, over his bandages, until she reached the waistband of his trousers, left unbuttoned when he’d pulled them on. She hesitated there, at the edge of the dark, tempting opening, knowing that another woman would move with more certainty.
As Hattie hesitated, so, too, did Whit, freezing above her, his breath stilling. She met his gaze. Asked a silent question.
“Now,” he said. “Do it.”
And she did, sliding her hand inside the dark, promising V of the fabric, reveling in his quick inhale when she touched him. “Does that feel—”
“Yes.”
She smiled. “I didn’t finish the question.”
“It feels like heaven, love.”
She shook her head. “But it can feel better.”
He closed his eyes. “I don’t think I can bear it feeling better.”
She leaned up and kissed the sharp line of his jaw. “I think you’ll do fine. Show me.”
His attention flew to hers. “You’re not a warrior. You’re a fucking goddess. Did you know that?”
She liked that very much. Unable to keep the smile from her lips, she repeated herself. “Show me.”
He did, placing his hand on hers, showing her just how he liked to be touched, the firm, smooth heat of him sliding over her palm as she stroked him. “You’re so soft,” she whispered, her eyes on their hands in the V of his trousers. “So hard.”
He grunted. “Never harder.”
She met his eyes. “Is that true?”
“Yes.”
She wanted to touch him, to learn him, to give him all the pleasure that he gave her. “Show me how. Teach me.” He let her push