Page 123 of Marrying the Savage

She huffs a breath that might be a laugh if she were not trembling.

I kiss her forehead. Then her mouth. Then the corner of her jaw.

I move another inch. Her breath catches in pain this time.

I stop again. “Look at me.”

She does. Her eyes are bright, furious and vulnerable in a way that makes something in my chest tighten harder than desire ever has.

“I will stop,” I say. “If you say it, I stop.”

She swallows. Then her legs tighten around my hips. “No.”

“Sofia.”

“No,” she says again, voice shaking but clear. “I want this. I just also want to complain.”

I laugh low against her throat. “My difficult wife.”

“My terrifying husband.”

I kiss her again and push deeper, slow and careful. The resistance gives little by little, her body stretching around me, wet and hot and impossibly tight. She whimpers into my mouth, then bites my shoulder when the last inch becomes too much.

I let her.

I hold still when I’m finally inside her completely, all of me, buried deep in her. Her body clenches around me in small, uncertain pulses, and I have to breathe like a man being tortured.

She’s shaking. So am I, though she will never know if I can help it.

“Damir,” she whispers.

I lift my head. There are tears at the corners of her eyes, unshed. I brush one away with my thumb before it can fall.

Her gaze flickers with surprise. “Don’t,” she says softly.

“Don’t what?”

“Become gentle now. It’s confusing.”

I kiss her mouth. “I am always confusing.”

“That is true.”

I move my hips slightly, and her breath stops.

I stop too. “Pain?”

She considers lying. I see it.

Then she sighs. “Less.”

“Good.”

I move again, slow and shallow, letting her body learn me. Her fingers grip my arms. Her thighs tremble around my hips. For the first few strokes, her face stays tense, her breathing uneven.

Then something changes.

A small gasp. Not pain.