Free Dreaming of You by Jennifer McNare Page A

pulling it closed behind her.  Hands outstretched, she trailed her fingers along the wall, feeling her way as she walked forward into the inky blackness.  When her fingers met the frame of the bedroom door, she stopped.  She drew in a few deep, calming breaths, and then knocked softly before she turned the knob and pushed the door open.    
    “Hello,” Gavin said as he approached the door and felt for her hand.  Grasping it, he pulled her forward into the room, pushing the door closed with his other hand.    
    “Hello.”  
    As was the unspoken custom they had developed during the first week, he led her directly to the bed.  “Are you well?” he asked, when they reached the edge of the mattress.  
    His question surprised her, for they generally spoke very little during the first part of her visit, performing their requisite duty in relative silence.  “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”  Melody blushed, thankful for the concealing darkness.  Obviously he knew that she’d had her monthlies.  “I suppose it was unlikely that I would conceive right away,” she said quietly.  
    “Yes, I suppose it was.”  
    She didn’t detect any anger or frustration in his tone, though he couldn’t be pleased that his confinement was to continue for at least another month.  As bad as this situation was for her, it was even worse for him.  Though none of this was her doing, she felt an enormous sense of guilt nonetheless.    
    They were quiet then, as they removed their clothing and got into bed.  When they were situated, Melody reached for him, her hand seeking the pliant flesh that she know knew would grow and harden like magic beneath her gentle touch.  
    Knowing what was to come, Gavin sighed aloud.  “It doesn’t have to be like this.”  He’d given their situation a great deal of thought during the past week.  
    The softly uttered statement stopped Melody cold.  Confused, her hand hovered in midair for a moment, and then slowly dropped to the sheet.  “What do you mean?”     
    “The situation we are in is beyond horrible, but even so, it doesn’t all have to be horrible.”  He hesitated a moment, then continued, his voice soft and low.  “Intimacy between a man and a woman is one of the greatest pleasures in life.  It is something to be enjoyed, not something you should have to endure.”    
    His tone was apologetic and tinged with something else, regret perhaps?  Sadness?  She understood then, and it both surprised and warmed her.  What kind of man was he?  Held prisoner, forced to do the bidding of a madman, forced to create a child and then give it up, his own flesh and blood.  And yet he was apologetic, concerned not only for himself but for her as well, because he knew she derived no pleasure from their required couplings.  “It isn’t your fault.  None of this is your fault.”  
    “Nor is it yours.”  He’d been thinking about it a great deal in the past few days, the fact that she derived no pleasure from their time in bed.  He was quite skilled in the art of pleasing a woman, as countless women could attest, and something he very much enjoyed doing.  He’d never been a selfish lover, and despite the circumstances it troubled him that she lay motionless beneath him, tolerating, enduring the experience, while he alone attained at least a small measure of sexual gratification.  
    “You needn’t worry about me, about my…my feelings,” she said, struggling to find the right word, unable to bring herself to use the word pleasure .  “I didn’t expect it to…I mean, I don’t expect you to…” she trailed off lamely, embarrassed.  
    “I can show you how it can be; how it should be, if you will let me.”  
    The tone of his voice changed, became earnest and slightly coaxing.  Melody’s breath caught in her throat.  She had never expected anything like this to happen, not even in her wildest imaginings.  They were strangers, unwilling participants in