For what? A whimper sounded deep in her throat, surprising her, then she involuntarily rose to meet him. He groaned softly. “I don’t mean to hurt you, love,” he forced between gritted teeth. “But this once—” She moaned in response, but she hadn’t really processed his words, only the love. She knew it didn’t mean anything, couldn’t mean anything—it was just the type of thing men said to women in the throes of passion—but it made her blood sing anyway, just to hear it. Still thinking of that, she stiffened in shock when he thrust home. Her breath caught in her chest.
