Man of Honor (Passion in Paradise Book 4)

by Sarah O'Rourke

  Catching her breath at his close proximity, Honor’s lips parted as Zeke’s nose softly bumped hers and his hot breath ghosted over her lips. “I wanna kiss you now, Kitten,” Zeke’s hypnotic, deep voice coaxed her, his sexy southern drawl nearly reducing her to a melted puddle at his booted feet.

  “You gonna let me have those pretty pink lips of yours, Honor?” Zeke throatily asked against the shell of her ear while his lips skated over the apple of her cheek and his hand cupped the back of her head, cushioning her skull as he backed her against her doorframe.

  “Zeke,” Honor breathed shakily as his words set off a tingle inside her, a craving for something unknown that she couldn’t identify, but needed desperately.

  “Just a taste, Honor. I just want a little taste to ease my hunger, baby,” his gravelly voice entreated her as his warm lips covered her mouth gently, his teeth nibbling her lower lip playfully before his tongue carefully teased the seam of her lips in a tender caress. She leaned heavily against him, her body settling against his much harder one like a long lost missing puzzle piece.

  Moaning softly, Honor’s lips parted as Zeke’s tongue quickly answered her unspoken invitation to enter her mouth and tangle with hers with long sensual glides of his tongue. Like a favorite candy that he hadn’t had in ages, Zeke’s mouth devoured hers, eating away and relishing each bite the way he would a long denied treat. His lips, teeth and tongue worked in perfect harmony to create a kind of spellbinding stupor that held her hostage. And good Lord, but his kiss tasted like pure sin, rich and addictive in a way that both exhilarated and terrified her at the same time.

  Then, there was the feel of his hands roving over her body. Her face. Her neck. Her torso… Somehow, his knowledgeable hands seemed to be everywhere at once. They stroked over her and stoked a flame that she hadn’t even been aware even burned inside her.

  Zeke’s hand traveled slowly, exploring and learning the contours of her body. Caressing. Petting. Building a hunger within her that she’d never known could exist until this moment. Need coiled low in her belly, biting into her with sharp, relentlessly unforgiving teeth while his tongue continued feasting on hers and his teeth nipped at her lips.

  Honor hummed unhappily as Zeke finally lifted his damp, glistening lips from hers to stare down into her dazed, unfocused eyes. “So beautiful,” he praised as he held her against him with hands that shook and took in her stunned face, her rosy cheeks glowing as she licked lips swollen from his kisses. “You need to go to bed, Honor,” Zeke told her quietly, his voice still husky with desire. “You’re not ready for anything else.”

  “Zeke,” she whined, arching her back and pressing her body into his. Gasping as she felt a hard bulge prodding her hip, Honor’s eyes widened, her face becoming slightly panicked as she realized it was his dick pressed up against her. “Oh, God,” she squeaked, automatically jerking her hips back and away from the throbbing organ between them.

  Seeing the fear flare in her eyes, Zeke shook his head and tightened his arm around her waist when she began to struggle in the circle of his arms. Calm and steady, he met her spooked gaze. “Kitten, breathe and settle for me,” he urged her sternly. “It’s me, baby. I’m still your Zeke,” he reminded her sternly, loosening his arms when she’d stilled some. “I want you to listen to me for a second. Okay? You hear me out, and then I’ll turn you loose and we’ll go on to bed.”

  Nodding jerkily, Honor fought the terror clawing at her heart as she felt Zeke’s manhood pulse against her hip again. Biting her lip as she met his solemn gray eyes, she told herself again that this man… this man who’d always done everything he could to protect her from whatever would harm her… he would never hurt her. Never force her to do anything she didn’t want to do.

  “Honor, the part of me you feel against your hip won’t hurt you. It’s my dick, baby. Not a bomb,” he promised her calmly.

  Yeah, right, Honor thought wildly. If that was the case, why did it feel like it was in danger of detonating at any given moment? “Let me go, Zeke,” she begged. “Please! Just let me go.”

  “In a minute, Kitten. I promise, I’ll let you go right after I explain a few things to you. First though, you gotta know, no matter what you ever do or say, I swear to you, I will never use that part of myself you’re frightened of as a weapon. As God as my witness, I will never use any part of my body to hurt you, but especially never my dick.”

  A tremor ran through Honor at his vow and her scared gaze flew to his. “You w-won’t be able to stop yourself. Th-those di…things,” she began with a hard look down at his crotch, “They get hard and men lose their minds. Then they use them to do the most awful, vilest things…. And it hurts! It hurts so bad when y’all use those things,” she whimpered, her voice breaking as she blinked back tears that burned her eyes.

  “Hey,” Zeke chided, lifting a hand to cup her cheek, forcing her chin up so that he could look into her eyes. “Listen to me, baby. It doesn’t always hurt. Just like not every man loses his mind when his dick gets hard. Look,” he urged, suddenly pulling her hand between them until her palm rested lightly over the lessening bulge of his dick.

  “Ezekiel!” Honor gaped, her wide eyes horrified as she tried to pull her hand out of his. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to prove to her, but touching him there could only end badly for her, couldn’t it?

  “Kitten, you’re touching me now. Feel me,” he ordered earnestly as he kept her palm pressed against his crotch. “Do I seem like I’m in any danger at all of losing my mind and hurting you?”

  Honor’s face was a mask of uncertainty as she stared down at where he held her hand cupped against his manly parts. Honestly, he didn’t even feel as hard as he had a few minutes ago, she noted silently. “I-I don’t understand,” she whispered.

  Releasing her hand, Zeke sighed as Honor snatched it away from his crotch. “Honor, eight years ago, five shitheads held you down and stole something precious from you. They did it through violence. They deliberately hurt you.”

  “You are not tellin’ me anything I don’t know already, Zeke,” Honor snapped, her stomach clenching as he described what she’d endured. She hated remembering it, but she hated hearing it through his eyes more.

  “I know, Kitten, but stay with me for a few more minutes. Those animals took from you. I don’t even consider them men because real men don’t wanna take from a woman. They wanna give. Tell me something. Before you felt my dick against your hip, were you enjoying what happened between us, Honor?”

  Honor felt her cheeks burn as he directed an intensely heated look at her. Licking her suddenly dry lips, she slowly nodded. “I liked the kissing. A-and the touching.”

  “You liked feeling my hands and lips on you just now, didn’t you?” Zeke questioned huskily, lifting a hand to trail a finger down her satiny cheek.

  “Yes,” Honor returned shakily, uncomfortable but honest.

  “And compared to what happened to you eight years ago, those kisses and touches I just gave you were as different as night from day to what you felt then, weren’t they? I didn’t lose my mind when I felt you in my arms. I didn’t turn into a wild beast when I felt your sweet tongue in my mouth or your curves filling my hands, did I?” he prompted.

  “No, I-I suppose not. You didn’t hurt me or make me feel dirty and used like they did,” Honor shared hoarsely slowly, leaning her cheek into his reassuring touch. “It felt good with you. Almost natural.”

  “It was supposed to feel good and natural with us, darlin’. And what happens between you and me is always going to feel right because it’s consensual. It’s honest. It’s real. You’re allowed to enjoy it, baby.”

  Honor watched as Zeke paused to take a deep breath and collect his thoughts. Moving slightly closer, she was relieved when Zeke’s hand lifted to brush her hair back from her face. She couldn’t imagine how much energy it must take to deal with someone as insecure as she was, but the man in front of her never so much as wavered. Ever. “I’m sorry, Zeke. Those men�
�� those animals…. They broke something in me the night they took me, and I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to fix it. Maybe I’m more work than what I’m worth.”

  “Bullshit,” Zeke growled, his tone hardening as he frowned at her. “You’re not broke, and I don’t wanna fix you. And for the record, our relationship is worth any amount of work we need to do because WE’RE worth it, Honor. I know this is hard for you to grasp, but what you’ve got to understand is that a real man gives as much pleasure as he takes away, Honor. A real man wants his woman’s pleasure first and always. Those men that stole from you… they weren’t the stick you should measure all men by, sweetheart. They weren’t men at all. They were rabid animals that deserve a bullet between the eyes. Those fuckers used their dicks and hands to tear you down and inflict pain that night, but you have my word, I’m only ever gonna bring you pleasure with mine. Give me some time, trust and faith, and I’ll show you that.”

  She’d heard his solemn vow and for the first time in a really long time hope bloomed inside her. “Okay, Zeke,” she breathed. “I’ll try.”

  Zeke dropped one more chaste kiss to her lips before gently turning her toward her bedroom. “Sleep, Kitten. You’re gonna need your energy to climb this mountain with me.”

  ~~**~~

  And over the next few weeks, they’d continued making progress up that formidable mountain every night. Oh, they never strayed farther than deep passionate goodnight kisses and lingering caresses that left her panting and aching for something she wasn’t sure she was ready to experience, but it was definitely progress. Zeke was patient with her, and even when she freaked out – which she inevitably did when things began to overheat between them – he never lost his temper. He didn’t push for more than she was ready to give him, and he never set off any warning bells after that first intimate kiss.

  When she felt his length swell against her hip now, she no longer panicked. A part of her instinctively knew that while a man could use that part of himself to hurt her, this man… her Zeke… he never would. She still wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to share herself with him in the way other couples did. The very idea of shedding her clothes and offering him dominion over her body still made her body lock up and her blood turn cold. The thought of having sex with Zeke just seemed like a concept way beyond her comfort zone, a hurdle she seriously doubted she’d ever be able to jump. She couldn’t lie, though. Surrendering to those long, drugging kisses of Ezekiel’s had fueled more than one midnight fantasy of hers.

  Of course, her fantasies always ended with snuggling into Zeke’s side for a good night’s sleep, not stripping out of her clothes and letting him rut her like some animal, she thought with a mental shudder that had Zeke’s arm tightening around her shoulders reflexively.

  “Honor McKinnon?” she heard the receptionist sing out from the now open doorway to the back of the office. “Dr. Daniels will see you now,” the woman said pleasantly.

  Turning toward Zeke, Honor forced a tight smile to her lips. “Wish me luck,” she murmured as she quickly collected her purse from the seat beside her and got to her feet.

  Grabbing her hand, Zeke squeezed supportively. “You don’t need luck. You’ve got this, Kitten.”

  Nodding despite the butterflies turning cartwheels in her stomach, Honor walked toward the hallway that would lead her to Bree’s office. “Thanks, Cheyenne,” she said quietly as she passed the other woman.

  Winking at Honor as she walked past her, Cheyenne smiled at the doctor’s newest client. “Sheriff’s right, you know,” she whispered, closing the door with a soft snap after Honor crossed the threshold. “You know you do have this, girl. I can’t tell you how great it is to see you outside the café, Honor. Just go right down the hall. Dr. Daniels’ office is the first door on the left.”

  Steeling herself, Honor began to put one foot in front of the other. At times like this, when her fears threatened to get the better of her, that was the only thing she could do. Just keep walking.

  Aubrey Daniels met her at the door with a kind smile. “You made it,” she praised, offering Honor a supportive hug before gesturing toward the teal couch along one wall of her tastefully decorated office.

  “Wow, this is a gorgeous office,” Honor complimented as she moved inside the room, her low heels tapping against the polished wood floor as she moved past Bree. From the sleek desk to the tasteful art hanging on the walls, this place screamed ‘safe zone’. Decorated in shades of muted gray and bright, vibrant blue, the room automatically soothed Honor’s frayed nerves and she was slightly surprised to find it so well put together after sitting in the dingy waiting area.

  “Yes, I like for both my patients and myself to feel at home in my work space so this was the first room I redid after taking over the lease. That horrible waiting room out front is my next project,” Bree explained, almost as if she’d read Honor’s mind. “I actually contacted your sister, Harmony, last week to ask if she’d run into any good interior designers in her party planning business. Thankfully, she gave me a couple of names so I can get that ball rolling this week. Hopefully by the time you come in for you next session, we have some more comfortable furniture out front.”

  Nodding politely, Honor dropped to perch on the edge of the couch cushion as Bree took one of the gray armchairs to the right of her seat. Swallowing nervously, Honor anxiously asked, “So, how do we start?”

  Bree smiled as she leaned back in her seat and settled her writing pad on her lap. “We start by you taking a really deep breath and relaxing. This isn’t like a trip to the dentist, Honor. I don’t have any tools to torture you with in here, I promise.”

  “With respect, you wanna dive into my psyche, Bree,” Honor countered with a negative shake of her head. “Believe me, that’s gonna be plenty painful.”

  “Touché,” Bree murmured, tapping her pen gently against her pad. “How about we start by visiting with each other a little bit. How have you been doing since the last time we saw each other, Honor? You weren’t very happy with me or anyone else when I saw you a few weeks ago. You were pretty adamant that you didn’t want therapy. What changed?” she questioned gently.

  “I’d like to say that I did, but that’s not completely true.”

  “Honesty is important for these sessions to be beneficial. Don’t be afraid to say how you really feel even if you think it’s mean or rude or ugly. This is truly your safe place, Honor. You can feel however you need to feel. The important thing is to keep talking.”

  “Okay,” Honor acknowledged, relaxing slightly as she scooted back on the cushion, leaning against the back of the couch as she met Bree’s serene gaze. “It’s true, I wasn’t very happy to see you or anybody else waiting for me in the diner the day y’all confronted me. I don’t think it’s any secret that I didn’t like what y’all had to say. Looking back, I can accept that it was well-intentioned, but at the time it just felt cruel. Like everybody I cared about was ganging up on me and tryin’ to force me into doing something I wasn’t ready to do. I was… and still am, I guess…pretty angry about that.”

  “That’s understandable. How do you feel about your Intervention now? Do you still feel like we took advantage of the situation?”

  “In some ways, but I’ve had time to accept that everybody that was in that room with me cares about me. They want me to be happy…or the happiest version of me that I can be. To do that, it’s become clear that I’ve got some demons to face.”

  “You know you’re not alone. Every one of us has demons. Some are more dangerous than others, but you shouldn’t feel like you’re on your own. Plus, your demons are pretty real, Honor. They aren’t just in your past. They’re in your present, too. That’s got to be difficult to come to terms with.”

  “Yeah,” Honor admitted on a shaky breath. “It’s a… challenge.”

  Bree chuckled and shook her head. “Honor, that’s not a challenge. A challenge is sticking to a diet when somebody dangles a chocolate donut in front of you. What you’re lo
oking at is a scary-as-heck daily test of your mental fortitude and strength. Challenge is a very mild word for what you face on an everyday basis. You don’t have to try and diminish what you’re going through. Not to me and not to anyone else.”

  “Everyone has their struggles.”

  “They do,” Bree agreed. “And some folks have much larger, more serious struggles than others. I think anyone that knows you will agree that you fall in that category, Honor. You shouldn’t feel like you should be ashamed of struggling.”

  “Maybe,” Honor said, reluctantly accepting the doctor’s statement as truth. “But admitting out loud that I’m struggling… it pulls attention toward me. I hate that,” she confided quietly. “Being the object of everyone’s stares and notice… I’d rather peel my skin off. It’s one of the reason’s that I fought the idea of therapy for so long – I knew I’d be the center of attention. It was bad enough with my sisters constantly watching me, gauging my mood like it was some kind of emotional thermostat they need to monitor. Now, I feel like everybody will be watching me even more, looking at me to see what kind of progress I’m making.”

  “Has it occurred to you that if you make enough progress, they won’t have anything to watch?” Bree queried curiously.

  “That very idea is one of the main things that convinced me to walk through your door. I know I’m not supposed to say this, but I’m hoping you can if not help me be normal, at least be able to act normal.”

  Dr. Daniels nose curled at that. “You know, therapists hate that word.”

  “Normal?” Honor asked.

  “That’s the one. We hate it because there’s no such thing. Every single person with a working pulse has a different idea of what normal is. There is no typical normal, Honor. It doesn’t exist. Therapy is designed to help the patient be the best possible version of yourself that you can be. If you came in here looking for some kind of standardized normal, I’m sorry, but you won’t find it.”