‘What’s wrong?’Jules asked in a high, thin voice. She didn’t know what to do. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and his fingers made her feel pleasantly strange, yet embarrassed.
‘Nothing, little idiot.You are perfect.’
‘Are you certain? You’re not just saying that?’
‘No,’ he said, raising his head to kiss her again. ‘I’m not just saying that.’ He wanted desperately to draw her upward and kiss her, and taste her, and bury himself in her sweet flesh. But he knew he couldn’t. Not yet. He let his fingers find a rhythm that seemed to please her, for she gasped suddenly, digging
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her fingers into his shoulders.
‘Michael.’ she cried, ‘please, I don’t know can’t
‘Yes, love,’ he said. ‘Just lie still.’ He continued to caress her as he raised himself over her. Slowly she parted her legs. He sat back on his heels a moment, watching her squirm at the touch of his fingertips. He studied the long white legs, sleekly muscled, unlike those of many young women of her age, whose greatest exercise had been to walk from the living room to the bedroom. He gazed at her female softness and felt his control desert him.
‘Jules,’ he said, his voice agonized. ‘Please, hold still.’
She felt bereft when his beguiling fingers left her, but she was tense with anticipation as she watched him guide himself toward her. She felt his fingers gently parting her. She didn’t know what to do. He would come inside her.Yes, she wanted that. She felt that male part of him pressing against her., felt the incredible heat of him. She could hear Michael’s ragged breathing, knew that he needed her, needed her now, this moment. She tried to relax, to open herself to him. He entered her, his fingers still parting her to ease his way, and she felt herself stretching painfully. She felt his hands on her thighs, qnA
holding them apart, and he came deeper into her.
‘Jules, love,’ she heard him say sharply. She opened her eyes and stared at him. His face was pale, taut, tension radiating from him.
‘You’ve a maidenhead, and He groaned deeply in his throat, and thrust forward.
Jules cried out, she couldn’t help it. He was deep inside her, and it hurt so badly she sobbed. She stuffed her fist into her mouth, not wanting him to know.
‘No, Jules, hold still!’ She was squirming under him, trying to rid herself of the dreadful pain. She felt his fingers find her again, and stroke her, but the very nice sensations didn’t return. He groaned suddenly, arching his back, and thrust forward until she took all of him. He felt his seed spew deeply within her.
He balanced himself on his elbows when he had enough strength to do so, and looked down at her. Her face was pale, her eyes tightly closed, her eyelashes wet spikes on her cheeks. He cursed vividly. He’d given her very little pleasure, he knew. Slowy he drew out of her, feeling her shudder with pain.
‘God, I’m sorry,’ he said, pulling her against him. He stroked her back, eased his
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hand up beneath her thick hair to knead the muscles of her neck. ‘Jules, are you all right?’
She thought about it. She felt very sore, as if she’d been battered inside, which, she supposed, she had. But he’d tried to be careful with her. It hadn’t been all that bad. ‘I’m fine,’ she said finally. ‘Truly, Michael.’
But he felt her tears against his bare shoulder. God, he’d forced her, given in to his own need. He was no better than Wilkes. ‘Never, never again,’ he said to himself, unaware that he’d whispered the words aloud.
Jules felt as though he’d slapped her. No, please, no, she wanted to scream at him, but she said nothing. Her head was beginning to throb, just like the rest of her, she thought grimly. She wanted to talk to him, but her mind was whirling with the burgeoning pain, and she gulped, burying her face into his shoulder.
Saint felt her shudder, and hated himself. He lay awake long after he heard her even breathing and felt her body relax against him. He eased away from her, rose and doused the lamp. He slipped into bed again and drew her back into his arms. He could still feel himself tearing through her maidenhead, feel her struggling against him. But he hadn’t stopped. No, he’d continued hurting her, letting his lust rule him. She was so precious