Page 90 of Texas Glory
He touched her with his hands, his mouth, his eyes, all the while marveling at her beauty, the pink glow of her skin, the deep brown of her eyes.
When he joined his body to hers, he heard no sharp intake of breath, no cry of pain, only a sigh of wonder. He rocked his hips until her sighs became gasps and her body writhed beneath his. He thrust harder, deeper, reveling in the moment when her soft voice echoed his name and she shuddered within his arms.
With a guttural groan, he threw his head back, clenched his teeth, and with a final thrust hurled himself into an abyss of pleasure.
Breathing heavily, he sank onto her quivering body. He could still feel her body pulsing around him. He pressed a kiss to her throat, her chin, her cheek … and tasted the salt of her tears.
Self-loathing replaced the blissful replete. He hadn’t given her any of the tenderness he’d planned. He’d charged into this room like a rampaging bull, with one thought, one purpose on his mind: burying himself as deeply and as swiftly as he could into her glorious warmth until they were so close that a shadow couldn’t have slipped between them.
She would share her body with him once a month. Instead of savoring the moment, he had taken her offering and used it as quickly as lightning flashed against the sky.
He pressed his lips against the corner of her eye where her tears glistened, fresh and warm. “I’m sorry, Dee,” he rasped. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” she whispered.
He lifted his head and met her gaze. He could see the pain he’d caused swirling within the dark depths of her eyes. He might not have harmed her physically, but he had little doubt he’d bruised her woman’s heart, the part that longed for more than a man satisfying his lust. He threaded his fingers through her hair. “I did hurt you, and I regret that.”
She shook her head. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It was wonderful.”
Wonderful?She thought that hasty mating was wonderful? “Then why are you crying?”
She touched her trembling fingers to his jaw. “Because it always hurts you so much.”
He stared at her, unable to make sense of her words. “What?”
Her cheeks flamed red as she lowered her lashes. “I watch you,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “You grunt and groan. Your muscles tense and strain. You clench your teeth.” She lifted her lashes. “The agony must be unbearable. Is that how Nature evens things out? Since childbirth is excruciating, women receive a gift of pleasure while making the baby and men only receive pain?”
“You thought I was in pain?”
She nodded shyly. Hope flared within him like the crude skyrockets he and Houston had made out of carpet scraps as boys.
“Is that why you wanted to wait and see if you were carrying my son? To spare me the suffering of trying when it might not be necessary?”
She trailed her fingers along his cheek, her thumb brushing over his mustache. “I can’t stand to see you hurting like that.”
“Oh, God.” He flopped onto his back, dropped one arm over his eyes, and burst out laughing. His shoulders shook forcefully, and the bed trembled with his outburst.
“What’s so funny?”
Fighting to stop his laughter, he peered at Dee’s concerned face. She had risen on an elbow, her black hair a silken curtain draped over her shoulders. Wearing a broad smile, he reached out, wove his fingers through her hair, and brought her sweet lips closer to his. “You’re precious, you know that? So damn precious.”
He brushed a light kiss over her tantalizing mouth. “I wasn’t in pain.”
Her dark brown eyes widened until they were larger than any full moon that had ever guided his journey through the night. “Not at all?”
“No, quite the opposite in fact.”
He eased her onto her back, tucking her body beneath his, unable to wipe the grin off his face. “So Nature gave you no trade-offs.”
“That hardly seems fair.” She smiled warmly, her blush creeping beneath the sheets she’d drawn up to cover her breasts. “But I’m glad.”
His grin slipped away as he swallowed. “Does that mean you wouldn’t mind trying again? Just in case we didn’t get lucky?”
Burying her face against his throat, she nodded and pressed a kiss just below his Adam’s apple.
Joy shot through him. He leaned back, cupped her cheek, and lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply as he worked the sheet aside so he could feel the length of her limbs pressed against his.
Several long minutes later, he dared to peer down at her feet. Distracted, he slid his mouth across her chin.
