Page 16 of Undoubtedly Reckless (Rebel by Night #2)

Quiet in the Library

Madness. He was going insane.

Roland threw down his quill and stared into nothing. His concentration was greatly marred by a beautiful pair of pale hazel eyes haunting his thoughts. He had nearly kissed her in the school that afternoon, for the love of all that was holy. A man grown and here he was, panting after Sabina like a green boy. Roland could have happily stripped them both bare had Mr. Noyes not been but outside an unlocked door. He made a brief note to himself that the school door needed a lock, and probably a new door.

One look from her had weakened his knees. Roland went back to that night on the roof in Cheapside constantly. Her lips. Her breasts. Her beautiful hot core against his hand as she worked her lovely hands on him. God, he would give much to have that again. Would that they were back in Hornsea, in her cottage. If only he were still a sailor and she a schoolteacher. They could be just two people with all the time in the world.

Sabina was under his roof. He had an obligation to her care and comfort. Taking advantage of her was completely out of the question. He was infatuated with a woman who could not return his affections, one he could not court. The irony was not lost on him. He should be seeking a respectable society lady to burnish the title he had been saddled with, but instead he wanted a relationship with a domestic helper.

No, that thought was unworthy. Sabina was stronger and cleverer than any debutante of the Ton. Who among them could have survived as she had survived? Who among them would have saved his life in the face of such risk?

Roland gave up and left the study. He would accomplish no more this night. Passing the library on the way to the stairs, he paused. Perhaps a book would be just the thing. Something in Greek was sure to cool his ardor. And that is how Roland found the featured performer in all his fantasies in his library.

Sabina was completely at ease on the sofa, comfortable in her dressing gown and her old shawl draped over her elbows. Her bare feet peeked out from the hem of her shift, slippers abandoned on the carpet. She presented such a lovely picture after more than a decade of sailing and seeing only rough men and wild seas. This was his sweet Sabina, reading comfortably by his fire.

“Hello,”

Roland said gently, loathe to startle her. Her glorious smile welcomed him and he closed the library door behind him. Against his better judgment, Roland seated himself on the settee opposite Sabina. She was so pretty in the firelight. He warmed at her smile, pleased that she was so content in his home.

“I hope you don’t mind,”

Sabina said, seemingly ignoring the impropriety of wearing her nightclothes in the library. It must have been deliberate. Roland hoped it was deliberate.

“No, please. I can think of no better use for these dusty tomes than to entertain you,”

Roland said. His eyes traveled the length of her, and he was delighted that she was returning the favor.

“Not dusty at all, I cleaned in here before dinner. I love your library. It may be better than the Verdon House’s library,”

Sabina said.

“Very often those fine houses have hollow boxes made to look like books.”

“That’s a travesty,”

Sabina said. “I am so pleased you did not do the same.”

“These aren’t even mine, Sabina. These were Percy’s, my brother-in-law. Cress says he was an avid reader,”

Roland explained. He glanced at her book and grinned. “General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates, by Captain Charles Johnson. An interesting selection you make, madame.”

“Purely in the name of research, I assure you,”

Sabina said seriously. “I finished Tom Jones already.”

“Might I suggest Captain Singleton then,”

Roland suggested with the deepest gravity. “Much less depressing than Tom Jones.”

“Tom Jones wasn’t depressing. It was aspirational. If you want depressing, I can lend you some Sophocles.”

“Please don’t. My Greek was never that good and there is only so much tragedy a man can read about.”

Roland looked at her. He was content only to sit and look at her. Heaven help whichever poor soul tried to interrupt this moment, no matter how inappropriate her attire and his presence.

“Oedipus Tyrannus then perhaps?”

Sabina baited him, smiling herself.

“I don’t wish to read about a man who tries to escape his tragic destiny and is entirely unable to do so.”

“But the struggle is so interesting. Yes, Oedipus has a doomed destiny, but he rails against it.”

“Pointlessly,”

Roland said.

“Heroically,”

Sabina said.

“I cannot believe you think there is anything heroic about fighting your doom. Why do you like Tom Jones? Is this book about a fool who tries to avoid his tragic fate?”

“I like the book because the hero reminds me of you,”

Sabina said, and looked straight at him. Roland was quiet, not wanting to disabuse her of the notion but not wishing her to continue to believe a lie.

“I’m glad you are here, Sabina. You invited me into your home. I have been waiting for the opportunity to do the same,” he said.

“So my invitation was for the sake of reciprocity?”

she said, setting the book aside.

Roland watched her closely, not moving.

“No, not at all. Your invitation was due to my wish to spend time with you,”

Roland replied as she stood.

“Excellent to know we are not at cross purposes,”

Sabina said quietly, and untied her dressing gown.

Roland stilled, his heart thumped wildly. He could not look away as the front of her dressing gown fell open. Sabina shrugged from it, tossing it on the sofa behind her.

“Sabina,”

Roland croaked, and he cleared his throat. Then she walked toward him. She was at the perfect angle from the fire, and he could see the outline of her breasts, her hips, her lovely thighs through her gown.

“You seduce,”

Sabina said gently, “slower than a tortoise, and it is excruciating.”

She started to pull up the hem of her shift and cocked a knee at him, a smile playing at her lush lips.

He could not resist. He did not even hesitate. There were no saints in that library, and his hand snaked out to stroke up the inside of one lovely, dusky thigh. She was so soft, and when she breathed faster, harder, he could scent her arousal.

Then his fingers brushed the abundant wetness of her puss and he was lost. He pushed her hem high and pulled her hips closer to him. There she was, the secret heart of her. He took a moment to stare at the beautiful center of her, at the damp curls, and inhaled the scent of her.

Sabina whimpered, drawing his gaze. Her eyes were glassy, staring at him with lust and passion.

“Do you want this?”

Roland forced himself to ask. His face was inches away from paradise but he needed to know. “You need to tell me, Sabina. One word, and I will leave now. You must tell me.”

For a moment of hell, she only panted.

“I want you,”

Sabina breathed. “Please, Roland, take me.”

Roland touched his head against her stomach, honored and excited beyond measure. He would make it good for her. Reverently, Roland kissed the soft skin of her belly, above the dark curls. He laved his tongue along the long line of her belly. Down he ventured, smothering his senses with the smell, taste, and feel of her skin.

Sabina made a startled noise and moved to stop him but he batted her hand away. A reproving glance, though hardly lover-like, stopped her but earned him a hot glare. Her ire only served to fuel his fire, as did the sight of her clutching the hem of her shift between her abundant breasts. His eyes widened at the hard tips of her nipples puckering the shift and he swore he would give them ample time later.

For the task at hand, he kissed her mound gently, letting her get used to him. She was wet for him. Her moisture seeped a trail along her thighs. He stroked after the moisture and popped his finger in his mouth, tasting the salt of her. He wanted to bury his face in her apex but he doubted he could hold out long after that.

Wetting his fingers with his mouth, Roland delved into the folds of her sex. After she got over the initial shock of having another person’s hand on the most private part of her, Roland sank a finger deep into her.

Roland drank in her short, urgent cries as he thrust his fingers into her wetness. Eyes glassy, Sabina could do nothing but gasp as his fingers moved slowly inside her, massaged the sensitive spot just inside her entrance. The wet sound of his fingers thrusting inside her aroused her unbearably.

Her knees almost gave way and he gently withdrew his fingers. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back on the settee. He fell back, a little stunned by his gentle captor.

He snapped to attention as her clever, graceful hands began to work at his waistcoat. He reared up for a deep, drugging kiss, and worked on his breeches. He barely had the flaps open when her clever hands were inside his breeches, bringing his cock out.

Roland groaned, falling back against the settee. This was heaven. This was torture. Sabina’s shift had fallen off a shoulder, baring a dusky, heavy breast. He cupped her gently and heard her gasp. She must be sensitive there.

Roland saw her heavy-lidded eyes, and felt her gingerly set her wet quim on his cock. He hissed as she stroked him tentatively with herself. Her eyes fluttered close, and she clenched a hand around the one he had on her sweet tit.

Again, Sabina stroked and the sound she made was better than any music he had ever heard. He pulled down the neckline of her shift to bare her other breast and came up for a taste.

Sabina reacted violently to his mouth on her nipple, bucking wildly. Roland guided her with a hand on her hip, another on her back as he sucked and licked at the most gorgeous pair of breasts he had ever seen in his life. And she was so responsive and lovely, this sweet lover of his. She was so close, he could feel it.

Roland kept the rhythm of her hips steady as he made love to her breasts, loving every minute of their play. When he felt her at her cusp, he pulled her down for a kiss as he pinched her dark nipple and bucked.

Sabina came with a choked gasp into his mouth, then moaned sweetly, the reverberations vibrating down his throat. Roland kept bucking, keeping her adorable orgasm going as long as he could. Then she collapsed against him.

He held her close, taking her full weight. Roland smiled, even though he was still hard enough to hammer down nails. He nuzzled her hair and soothed her. Sabina pushed herself back, still astride him. Then, before he knew what she was about, she swiftly impaled herself on him.

He felt her maidenhead the moment he broke through it.

****

Oh. Ow.

Sabina had not expected any of this. His mouth going places she barely acknowledged to herself. The slickness and sweetness of him. The blazing pain of losing her virginity.

Oh crumbs. Her evening had been going perfectly until she ruined it with her own eagerness. She had truly thought this was the next step in lovemaking, but there was nothing pleasant about being impaled on a tree stump. The mood was well and dust. Grimacing, Sabina wouldn’t look at his face, and tried to remove herself.

That was an awful idea.

“Little love, you can’t do that. Give me a moment and I’ll remove myself,”

Roland gritted out.

Oh, lovely, she had caused the man she wanted as her lover extreme pain. Could this night go any worse?

“I am so sorry. I may not know how to do this,”

Sabina said tightly. He chuckled and she gasped. The intimate movement of his cock inside her was very unexpected and shocking.

“I’m the one who is sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have taken more care.”

Roland took her face in his hands and kissed her, soothed her. She was very close to sulking. “May I make a suggestion?”

“Please do,”

Sabina said. Her hands fluttered at his chest, unsure of what to do next. Roland caught her hands.

“Sabina, love, you’re too tight. You must relax. This is not right for your first time,”

he said gently.

“Ah. I am enlightened,”

Sabina said. She closed her eyes against her tears. Of course she would make a muck of this. “Can you please fix this?”

“Can I debauch you in a less painful and much more pleasurable fashion?”

Roland said. He kissed her thoroughly and oh, there was the warmth she had been missing. “Yes. With your permission, madame?”

“Be my guest,”

Sabina said and smiled tightly. She trusted him.

Then he started stroking her and she wondered if her trust was misplaced. She wanted to be deflowered, not petted.

His hands roamed over her and then she decided being petted was not altogether uncalled for. Her head fell back as she reveled in being stroked and soothed like a kitten. He touched her everywhere and worshiped her limbs. She felt herself relax in the most intimate of places and thanked all the gods.

His hands stroked the long line of her back as he feathered kisses down her neck. He soothed as if she were a timid woodland creature and she responded in kind.

“Breathe,”

Roland advised, brushing his lips against her temple and forehead. Holding her firmly, he reversed their positions and laid her gently on the settee.

“That is the opposite of breathing,”

he said tenderly, nuzzling her ear. Sabina let out the breath she had been holding with a sigh, barely noticing him slide his cock from her.

With a warm kiss and murmured assurances, he set her to rights and picked her up. Sabina was not a petite woman and Roland spirited her out of the library like she weighed no more than a sack of flour.

“You carried me home from the beach once. I thought it time I returned the favor,”

Roland murmured in her ear as he entered his chambers. Sabina muffled a chuckle until she was safely ensconced on his bed.

She leaned back on her elbows and watched as he locked the door. He quickly stoked the fire and stripped off his clothes. Even without a lamp, the room was illuminated to every corner and Sabina could observe the beautifully built man at her leisure. Sabina watched as he wet a cloth, warmed it by the fire, and approached her.

Sabina was happy to let him lead, for she did not know the steps to this dance. When Roland pushed up the hem of her shift, she bent her knees to ease his way and then almost purred when he cleaned her gently. The warm cloth felt like heaven against her quim and thighs.

Then she doffed her own clothes in solidarity with her lover, for he was her lover now. There was no place for shame here, not anymore.