And now, the sweet sound of this woman writhing underneath him was tearing him apart. He wanted to strike his own cheek for betraying her trust and ravishing her body. She wasn't Emily. She was Marah. A woman who'd been violated and broken. She wasn't seeking a pair of diamond earrings. She only wanted to go home. Go back to her brother that was going to skin him alive if he found out he'd made love to his baby sister.
    The thought clenched his brain. Tore at his heart. Then, he nudged the tip of his engorged cock between her drenched folds. His body wasn't going to let him hide from this. He needed this woman as much as she needed him. She could save him from himself. From his self-imposed exile. From the sex without feeling. At this particular second he knew the "feeling" part was going to be a dire consequence. One he'd experience and never have again. He was going to hand her over to his brother and he was going to send her home. 
    He wasn't her home and never would be.
    With the painful thought he slipped the bulbous head of his cock into the entrance of her wet pussy. Wrapping her in his arms and letting his weight furrow down onto ther smaller body, he thrust into her hot core. The shriek she let out told him she was sore. Slowly backing out, he left the throbbing head inside to let her adjust to his size. 
    She was so tight. So wonderfully, blissfully tight. She wasn't a virgin, that was for sure. But, how long had it been for her? What had those bastards done to her?
    He waited until her breathing stilled and her grip on his shoulders lost some of their tension before sliding his hips forward. This time she responded with a moan and a thrust of her own. She was ready and he couldn't wait any longer.
    Pulling out the rigid length, he reared back to thrust again. As the frantic movement of her hips increased he gave her his cock in turn. She was a hungry animal, his minx, and he intended to make sure she was fully satisfied before he let her go.