Page 17 of Undoubtedly Reckless (Rebel by Night #2)

Toasties

Sabina had initiated this dance but she wanted Roland to lead. He did not disappoint and in fact seemed keen to savor every moment.

He kneeled between her legs as she threw off her shift, then pressed his lips against her body, like a supplicant or hungry man. She went cross-eyed at the feel of his mouth again and briefly wondered if her scent was too strong for him.

Then his rough hand stroked up the valley between her breasts. The weight and the shape of her blasted breasts were adoringly explored by his wandering hands.

“Spread your pussy open for me, love,”

Roland said roughly, his uncouth words causing her folds to dampen for him verdantly. He sounded happy to be where he was and she stopped worrying about etiquette.

Sabina laid on her back, her knees splayed open like a wanton, inviting Roland to feast on her. She was greedy for it again, having enjoyed it so much in the library, and grabbed a handful of sheets to muffle her groan as she savored the feel of a man loving her with his mouth.

She knew she was drenching his face and she knew he loved it from the way he lapped her up. He could do anything to her now and she would gladly oblige, as long as he continued his lustful assault on her person.

Roland worked his fingers inside her, first one, then two. Oh, but if she only had the words to ask for what she wanted, but she did not know.

“More,”

Sabina gasped. She came up on her elbows to watch him and moaned. His dark head worked diligently between her thighs. She had never been so intimate with anyone, never dared even imagine such a thing, and then she felt herself cresting again, any pain forgotten.

Arching back, her head against the sheets, Sabina set her teeth to her wrist to stifle her cries as she came again, clamping her thighs around Roland’s head in her urgency.

Roland continued, eating her out as her orgasm pulsed on and on. When she finally was able to release her hold on his head, he placed a last affectionate kiss on the wet curls of her mound and kissed his way up her torso.

Sabina took his head in limp hands and urged him close for a kiss, tasting her saltiness and musk on his breath. She could feel his hot chest against her breasts and his hips making a home between her thighs, everything that could make her want him more, if possible.

Roland stroked her cheek, a curiously affectionate gesture when she was in the throes of passion and returned the gesture. Then she bucked him pointedly and discovered she could smile when making love to a man.

He blinked and chuckled, something she could feel throughout her entire body. He kissed her long and deep, then the blunt head of his penis was entering her again.

Sabina jerked up, or at least tried to. She was so weak that all she managed was a faint jerk and his magic hands were all over her again, soothing her.

“More,”

she croaked, and bucked again. Then gasped when the motion slid him into her farther.

Sabina could feel every inch of him, and he had more inches than she was expecting. She had in fact not truly considered how she would feel during this act. Now that it was happening, she was almost overwhelmed with the sensations cascading through her nerves.

Roland gathered her up, one forearm burrowing under her shoulders and the other under her back. He buried his face in her hair, over her shoulder, and she was enveloped in glorious masculine heat.

Then he drove home, seating himself fully inside her. The sound that came out of her throat would have been embarrassing if she still cared of such things. She could not remember the last time she had been so cherished and cared for. Even if this was but a moment in time, it was a moment well spent.

She was no longer a virgin. She was being gloriously loved by a beautiful and wonderful man, who held her like she was precious. Sabina brought her arms up and stroked his back. She turned her head and nuzzled his jaw, which was rock-hard. That was when she realized how strained he was, how tightly he was controlling himself.

Not knowing what she was doing or why, Sabina nipped his ear, because it was there. Roland jerked, making her gasp. Oh. That was intimate and strange. She wanted it again. She wanted him to lose his control.

Sabina bucked again and giggled at the curse that came out of his mouth. He gripped her then and slid out, wringing a cry from her, then drove in again. Oh, yes, that was good. That was what she wanted. Sabina’s fingers became claws as he pulled out and screwed his cock back into her again. She didn’t care. She needed more of this. She set her feet on the bed and bucked again, hard this time. That broke him and he began thrusting into her in earnest.

Sabina wanted to laugh when she regained breath, and clawed his back desperately because she was so close. Then he reached between them to rub her clitoris and she climaxed again, crying out wantonly.

Roland kept thrusting through her orgasm and only when she finished and was limp did he let himself go. He angled her hips for a shallower thrust and groaned, pulling out at the last minute though her hips thoughtlessly lifted to follow him. Setting his teeth to her shoulder, Roland poured his seed all over her stomach then collapsed.

Smiling, Sabina used the last of her strength to curl her leg around his.

****

Roland leaned back on the rug in front of his hearth, watching the woman next to him. Sabina had a piece of bread on tongs close to the fire, her wild dark hair plaited haphazardly. She was also wearing his shirt, her legs folded neatly underneath.

This was likely the single most erotic image he had ever seen. The neck of his shirt was wide on her, slipping over a shapely, dusky shoulder. He could see the brown tips of her breasts through the fine lawn of his shirt.

Roland didn’t want to move. He hardly dared to breathe. This was a perfect moment, one of the perhaps three perfect moments he ever had in his life and he did not wish to move through it. A very content woman was wearing his shirt and toasting bread in front of a fire. She may even give him some toast. He felt privileged and honored to be there.

“Are you trying to burn our food?”

Roland asked. Sabina smiled at him and his breathing stuttered. She was so beautiful to him, especially right now. When they had roused themselves, Roland had washed her as gently as possible and was barely able to restrain himself from taking her again.

Roland knew he was infatuated with Sabina. He wanted her, constantly, and this night would not be enough. He had sworn not to offer her a position as his mistress, but there must be some way to bring her to his household.

Knowing Sabina, she would probably wish to be consulted on such matters. So he sat leaned on an elbow like a Roman next to her in nothing but his breeches. And he did not push her.

“I’m toasting bread,”

Sabina informed him, impossibly prim for a woman who was almost naked in his bedchamber. “There may even be some toast for you.”

Her arms glowed golden in the firelight and Roland knew a moment of complete contentment. It was so foreign to him that he went very quiet, savoring the feeling and wondering why it frightened him. Then he saw that she had no idea what she was doing.

“Not like that, lass.”

Roland grinned and took her hand to adjust the position of her toast.

“Now we’re going to have warm bread, not toast,”

Sabina complained.

“Who’s the expert in toasting bread here?”

“I seem to remember cooking your meals for two weeks in Yorkshire. In any case, your credentials are not to be trusted since you spent the last decade on a ship.”

“I’m suspect now, am I? Let me steal your breath away, Sabina fair.”

Roland reached for the tray that had been sitting outside their door when Roland had gone to find sustenance for them. Bless Sage.

Sabina craned her neck to see what he was doing but he hid his prize until he had taken the stick away from her. Then she saw the cheese he had set on the bread.

“Such is the pinnacle of genius,”

Sabina said and laughed. Her eyes misted over and the smile had left her lips.

“What is it? What are you remembering?”

Roland asked.

“My mother. She was the last person who toasted bread for me,”

Sabina’s eyes were far away. “She used to look like some sort of pagan goddess when she was in front of the fire. She had this great mass of wild hair and she would sing us these songs, these terrible ballads.”

“Terrible?”

“Oh, goodness, all about murder and lost love and betrayal, but she made them sound so beautiful.”

“Sing one for me,”

Roland urged.

“I can’t sing, you know that. I am more like my father, more useful than decorative.”

“Your father was useful, was he?”

Roland set a piece of toast with its melted cheese on a napkin for her.

“Very, similar to yours, I imagine. From what Aria told me, your father was more than useful. She said he was the best father in the whole world,”

Sabina said casually.

“I’m surprised she remembers him. She isn’t wrong,”

Roland said distantly.

“You don’t sound sure.”

“Arthur Darewood was a very practical man, which was the impetus behind his actions. He was a penniless baron who brought his estates back from ruin through hard work. At least, that was the case when I left. My sisters tell me the estates were mortgaged heavily upon their death. I am still unravelling that mystery. When I was growing up, he had a reason for everything, except for marrying my mother. That was his most reckless decision and his favorite. He loved my sisters very much,”

Roland said carefully.

“He loved you, Roland, of course he did,”

Sabina said. “Not only because you were his son but for yourself.”

“We were different, is all. He grew up poor and was not afraid of work, and I grew up spoiled and lusting for adventure like in the stories my grandfather told me. It led to many an argument,”

Roland remembered.

“Why, I cannot even begin to imagine an argument between two Darewood men,”

Sabina said with a straight face. “I certainly did not witness several such incidents earlier today between you and your brother.”

Roland stared at her, with something resembling dawning horror.

“Good heavens, I’m becoming my father,”

Roland realized.

“Would that be awful?”

Sabina asked gently.

“Quite, since I spent ten years running away from the possibility,”

Roland said. Damn, he may owe Aria an apology after all.

“I envy you, Roland,”

Sabina said. “Not the responsibility, but the people. They all love you, though they make your life profoundly more difficult. No matter what you do, they’ll forgive you and come for you.”

“In our family, it happens in the reverse, but I appreciate the sentiment. She might forgive me.”

“Aria will, because she loves you. Tristan is too confused to know what he wants right now,”

Sabina said.

“I’m rather certain he wants our parents back from the dead and for the past ten years to have never happened,”

Roland said.

“Ah, yes, a notion to which I am well familiar and agree with wholeheartedly,”

Sabina said sadly.

“Your parents, were they happy together then?”

Roland asked and almost regretted it at the look on her face.

“Yes. Few despairs can compare to the certainty that your parents loved each other beyond words and that you can never hope to find the same. When they died and I went to live with Aunt Idonia, I saw a different type of marriage. The marriage between my guardians was not the lesser to my parents’ union but it did not have that love I expected to see. It was still stalwart and important.”

“I understand. My parents were always in love. I always expected the same for myself. The world grows more complicated as one grows older and I know now that what they had was unique,”

Roland said. She merely looked at him and he made a face, understanding that he sounded as inane as the sentiment.

“Be that as it may, you can’t eat love. That’s a rich man’s pursuit. Trouble enough as it is to survive,”

Sabina said. The loneliness in her words hurt him, possibly because he could not understand it. Roland always had his family, even when he left them willingly. Who did Sabina have?

“One can still hope. At the very least, my sister and brother can hope. There must be hope for someone because I could not bear to think that living is only survival. There must be a reason,”

Roland said.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Sabina asked. He looked her straight in the eye.

“I don’t believe so. Have you?”

Roland asked seriously.

“No. And I would never wish to be,”

Sabina said. “I have responsibilities. I have duties that must take precedence over my wishes. It would be a tragedy if I had to give up on someone I was in love with for the sake of duty.”

“I hope it will never come to that, Sabina fair,”

Roland said and reached for her. Sabina came willingly and settled securely between his legs. She fit so well against him, like a puzzle piece finally come home. This is how it should always be.

“I could protect you, Sabina, far better than Verdon can,”

Roland started, and stopped at her guffaw.

“Oh crumbs. I wondered how long you would last,”

Sabina chortled.

“I am in earnest,”

Roland said.

“Gallant to the end.”

Sabina turned her head and kissed him sweetly. “Roland, I know you are in earnest. To Verdon though, I am a member of his household. I know my place there. What would I be to you?”

He blinked, confused. Was it not obvious that he wished her to be a companion to his sister and ward?

“I have an obligation to you,”

Roland started again.

“I’ll have you know that being told I am an obligation is not the most enticing thing a man has ever said to me,”

Sabina said dryly.

“Strong words for a woman laying naked in my arms,”

Roland said, then stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m cocking this up.”

“No, but I wish you would.”

Sabina scooted her bottom back to rub suggestively against him. Her attempt at misdirection almost worked but he would not be swayed.

“The world is wild and vast, but we found each other again. I take that as a sign we should be together. I would like you to be closer to me. In my home, you should not have to work unless you wish. I would be your protector in the actual sense,”

Roland said. “There would be no contract. You need not open your door to me unless you wish it so.”

“So you’re suggesting I become your ward?”

Sabina asked, only a little mockingly. She shook his head. “Your obligation is to your family, to re-establishing your family name and place in society. I have no place in your life.”

Roland closed his eyes and laid his face against her hair, breathing her in.

“I want you to have a place in my life,”

Roland said honestly.

“And I am content with my life as it stands. Should I demand a contract with carte blanche and a house of my own?”

“That is not my intention,”

Roland protested hotly.

“I gave you my virginity, not my life,”

Sabina said gently. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

He snorted at that and gathered her up in his arms. He would prevail. This was a skirmish in an ongoing war, but she would be swayed.

“We should continue this discussion when you have not worn me out with your wicked ways,”

Roland said. His hands made their way under the shirt and he began his campaign.

“Roland,”

Sabina said, her head lolling against his shoulders as he worked her sweet puss. “I’ll be your lover. I’ll not be your mistress. I want our relationship to be honest lust, not transactional.”

Roland was silent, for what could he say? He kissed her ear, her neck, her lips, and bent to his work in earnest. If she would only accept him as her lover, then he would give her what she wanted, a thousandfold.

“In that case, we should get back to the bed,”

Roland suggested.