His forehead touched mine in a move so comforting and tender that I felt the bite of tears sting my eyes as my emotions threatened to rip through me. “Shite,” he groaned in an oddly helpless tone, sounding pained, as he held himself above me, taking his weight on one elbow while using his free hand to cup and stroke my cheek. “Are you sore?” Stilling inside of me, he whispered, “Am I hurting you?”
