Page 33 of Man of Honor

My arousal built so slowly, it was almost unexpected.

I was tensing before I realized it, trying to push myself past the finish line, and my body wasn't having it.It hurt, but I craved this release more than I craved air to breathe.I needed it.

I squeezed my eyes shut and grabbed Wyatt’s forearm, anchoring myself, marveling at the strength beneath my grip as his hand moved under the water.

“Wyatt…I can’t,” I choked out in a broken voice.“I—I can’t do it.”

“Shhh.”Wyatt’s lips were close to my ear, low and soothing, like the rumble of a distant storm.“Yes, you can. You don’t have to chase it, sweetheart.Just breathe. Let it happen.”

I tried, but it was too much.Every time I got close, I tensed up, and the pain flared too hot to ignore.Wyatt noticed, adjusting his movements, slowing everything down and letting me melt against his chest.His hand moved with exquisite patience, sliding so slowly over my shaft, I swore I began to fall asleep.No rush, no urgency, just a gentle, steady rhythm that coaxed me out of my own head and into the moment.

I’d never felt anything like this.Sex had always been a fast, heated thing—a quick climb to the top.Orgasms were a goal to be hunted down and conquered, a fix I needed more than I wanted.There’d never been time to linger, or anyone who made me want to, but everything was different with Wyatt.He wasn’t rushing or grinding down on my body’s weaknesses.The reverence in his touch was something I hadn't even realized I wanted until he gave it to me.Each stroke led me somewhere softer, further, until it felt like he was touching something deeper than just my body, reaching inside to my bruised core and healing it from inside out.

My breath picked up. His free hand settled over mine, his fingers twining with mine where I still clutched at his forearm.Slowly, almost imperceptibly, I let go—and then it happened.Pleasure spread through me like honey, so profound that I groaned.I shuddered, spilling helplessly in the warm water, while he milked me to completion.

“That’s my boy,” Wyatt murmured in my ear.His voice was laced with deep, masculine approval.

I sagged against him, exhausted and confused, unable to form a reply.When he finally released me, my limbs were limp in the cooling water.I barely responded as he pulled the plug, rinsed us off, and climbed out of the tub.He tied a towel around his waist with a quick twist and then wrapped me in a thick, fluffy towel of my own.

I felt like an invalid as he helped me out of the tub, and if there was any pride left in me,it was from managing to make it to his bed under my own two feet—even if his supporting arm around my waist did most of the work.

Wyatt’s bedroom was simple and spacious.A wall of big picture windows overlooked the creek, casting a faint silver glow over the space, and in the darkness, the room felt like it was part of the woods themselves.The platform bed was thankfully low, so it wasn’t too much work to lay me down, and the sheets were so soft under my sensitized skin that I moaned.

He tucked the blankets around me, lingering a moment longer than necessary, and then he straightened.“Just a minute,” he said, and disappeared, leaving me staring up at the dark ceiling.

The sounds of him moving in the other room, cleaning up the mess we'd made, were strangely soothing.In my wildest dreams,I’d never imagined being here, especially not after the way I’d treated him.In a lifetime of making the wrong choices, I’d somehow done one right thing, if I’d ended up here.

I dozed and woke with a start when he returned, carrying a glass of water and some painkillers.I swallowed the pills gratefully, chasing down the bitterness with a long sip, and settled back against the pillows.

“Get some rest,” he said softly.

Before I could think better of it, I caught him by the wrist.“Stay,” I asked. Begged, if I wanted to be honest.

It cost me a lot. I kept my eyes fixed on the wall, too raw and exposed to look at him.He’d just seen and handled every damn inch of me in the bath, but this felt like peeling back my skin and showing him my beating heart.

I don’t think I started breathing normally until Wyatt dropped his towel and slipped between the sheets.His arms wrapped carefully around me, holding me close in a way that cradled my injuries instead of aggravating them.His bare skin was so, so warm.I’d never been held while I slept before, but I settled into his embrace without a second thought.

“Sleep now,” he rumbled, dropping a chaste kiss on my earlobe.“I’ve got you.”

I believed him. For the first time in my life, I felt completely safe as I drifted off tosleep.

Chapter Sixteen

GAGE

"—ifyou don't tell me where he is."

I jolted awake, heart hammering, while the world snapped into focus in a rush of pain.Everything hurt: from my bruised kidneys to my swollen nose, but a pressing sense of danger drove those concerns to the background of my fuzzy brain.

Dominic's voice, seething with barely contained rage, drowned it all out.

The snarl of Wyatt's voice followed, just as angry and filled with warning."Watch your tone in my house, Beaufort."

Something crashed on the other side of the bedroom door.Glass, by the sound of it, followed by the unmistakable thud of a full-grown man getting bodied into a wall.That had me out of bed and moving in a flash, staggering to my feet while the sheet tangled around my legs.

The room tilted violently, and my ribs lit up like fireworks, but I caught myself on the edge of the dresser and forced my legs to move.

Late afternoon sunshine was streaming through the windows, making my eyes water and my head pound. I had no idea what time it was.Hell, I wasn't even sure about the day.Time blurred together in fits of restless sleep, broken every few hours to let Wyatt do his thing.He'd wrapped my shoulder to prevent it from slipping out of joint, taped and re-taped my ribs, and made sure I kept an ice pack on my face.I couldn't stomach food, but he'd kept a steady flow of fluids and painkillers running for at least a day or two.Maybe more.