Free South of Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 2) by Nanette Kinslow Page B

still.
          “I’m afraid.”
          “Is this easing your pain?” she asked quietly.
          “Yes,” he admitted.
          “Then I’m not disappointed.”
          She unbuttoned his shirt slowly and he looked at her darkly. When she laid him back on the bed and began to unfasten his trousers, he grasped her wrist again, firmly.
          She put her face close to his and whispered. “Roland, I want you to close your eyes. I’m not here. There is nothing to be afraid of and nothing to be embarrassed about. There are no expectations. I am just a fantasy and there is no one here you must impress.”
          He let his eyes fall closed and tilted his head back.
          She unfastened him slowly and slid his slacks from his hips.
          An enormous, angry scar ran from mid-thigh and up into the groin. She pulled a sheet across him discreetly and touched the area around the scar lightly, massaging gently. He groaned softly and she felt the thigh tighten suddenly. He grasped her wrist and she looked up and met his dark eyes. She put her hand boldly against the sheet over him and felt him rise from her touch. She let her hand lay there without movement and he reached into her hair and pulled her to him kissing her violently. She moved her hand slowly and felt him stiffen beneath her palm.
          “You are the finest fantasy I believe I have ever had,” he whispered to her and she put her thigh across him. He unfastened her bodice slowly, feeling the delicious reality of her thigh pressed against him.
          Her body was slender and firm, long of torso and limb, and she let her dress fall from her shoulders. He felt it gather softly against his once pained limbs. The rising desire he felt for her stung and felt delightful as he lifted her with his strong arms and lowered her onto him. He stopped as he entered her, thrilled and terrified by the sensation.
          She shuddered and placed her slender hands against his chest, then rose slowly, sending a chill through him. He moved her deftly to lie beneath him and entered her again, beautiful and compliant beneath him. She kissed him hungrily and he felt her thrill of satisfaction as he reached a peak he long believed he would never experience again.
     
          “Does it hurt?” she asked as she ran her fingertips gently along the edge of his scar.
          “I don’t think it will ever matter again,” he propped himself up on one elbow and studied her face.
          Her freckled nose glistened in the soft light and her eyes were sultry and drowsy. Her hair spilled out beneath her and he ran his finger along her jawline.
          “Thank you,” he whispered to her in a deep timbre.
          “That, Roland, was not what I expected.”
          “You cannot be more surprised than I am,” he chuckled deeply. “I didn’t think that was something I would ever experience again.”
          “Roland,” she whispered.
          “It drives me crazy when you say my name.”
          “Roland,” she whispered again.

 
     
    Chapter Thirteen
     
     
          E mma tasted the trout and rolled her eyes. “Roland, this is absolutely delicious!” She smiled at him across the table in the soft light and admired his handsome face. He returned her expression with such warmth and fondness that she could not help but wonder at what a waste it was that he had been suffering so long. She had watched him move around the tiny kitchen, clearly still favoring the leg, but the anger at his situation had begun to ease from his body, as well as his face, and he moved much more effortlessly.
     
          “Will you go back to Stavewood tonight?”
          She looked down at the table. Having avoided the question herself, she now struggled with the answer.
          He continued. “I know it wouldn’t be proper and all of that, but maybe you could stay. If you wanted to, you could