Free The Fall of Lady Westwood by Trent Evans Page A

ease, dove.” He held her tighter to his broad chest, nuzzling the girl’s straw colored hair.
    She relaxed, laying a hand upon his breast. She sighed, her breath ragged. “Thank you, Milord.”
    He held her for a few minutes, the intent gaze of Lawrence upon Ryndra the entire time. Perhaps his randy captain was not quite as sated as he’d initially seemed? Andrus tucked the hair back behind Ryndra’s delicate ear, his rough fingers stroking the tender flesh of her earlobe.
    “Do you need me to take watch, Sir?” Lawrence sat forward as if to rise, a deliberate nod of his head toward Ryndra.
    Andrus shook his head, his lowered hand signaling the Captain to stay.
    Lawrence sat back once more, his long fingers drumming the handle of his chair. “Anything new on the towers?”
    Andrus shrugged, his hand caressing the breathtakingly soft cheek of the girl in his lap. She was a lovely girl indeed, and not for the first time, he was glad his Captain had pressed her to come along on the trip. His cock began to stir, and despite the fact that Ryndra was nearly half his age, he didn’t feel like fighting the rise of his desire. It was a way to quiet the turmoil in his mind, to simply feel. It meant he hadn’t succumbed to his melancholy.
    Yet.
    “Turn, girl. No, facing your Captain.”
    Her limbs were tense, but she obeyed, allowing Andrus to splay her thighs open upon his. Her sex was fully exposed, something not lost on Lawrence, whose possessive gaze took in the lovely sight.
    “What did I miss while I was up in the clouds freezing my balls off, Lawrence?”
    The captain’s gaze rose, but just for a moment. “Laird’s patrol is late.”
    Andrus snorted. “So, in other words, the usual.”
    Lawrence nodded, sitting forward, his elbows braced on his thighs, his gaze focused once more on the girl’s displayed pussy. “Maybe not so usual, Andrus. He’s two days late.”
    That was something else entirely. “Did he take the northern leg?”
    “Aye.”
    Andrus slipped a broad hand down over the girl’s sex, the seething heat of her flesh hot against his palm. She stiffened in his clutch as he ground the heel of his hand against her clit.
    “She likes that,” Lawrence said, smiling.
    “So she does,” Andrus murmured. He kissed the girl’s ear, and she turned her head toward his lips.
    “I’ve a retrieval party out looking for them,” Lawrence said, his posture straight, his flies straining against a now obvious erection. “But the last time any patrol was more than a day overdue, they never returned.”
    “Did his route take him as far as The Ford?” The girl inhaled sharply as Andrus slipped a finger into the soft sheath of her pussy.
    “It was supposed to, but we’ve had riders arrive from there saying they never laid eyes on him.”
    “If I know Laird, he’s probably passed out drunk, knee deep in slave girls. Isn’t there a House Nightshade at The Ford?”
    “I believe so, but I doubt that’s where he hides. We’d have heard something. That man is as subtle as a storm. Somebody would have talked.”
    Andrus nodded, thrusting a second finger into Ryndra’s clenching sex, the girl moaning at the stretching. She was so petite that he had little doubt her narrow passage was sore tested by the width of his thick questing digits. The wet sound of his fingers plundering her increased in volume as he thrust faster, the girl shifting in his lap, her hand clasped around his corded forearm.
    “Do I need to bind you? You know better.” His voice rumbled against her hair.
    She shook her head, dropping her hand from his arm.
    “Good girl. I think I have a better use for those hands of yours. Lift your shirt.”
    She turned her head to look at him, her blue eyes uncertain, the corners of her pretty lips turned down.
    “Do as I say, Ryndra. I shouldn’t have to ask twice.”
    Her hands flew to the snug hem of the cotton, lifting it slowly.
    “All the way now, let your Captain see those breasts of yours.