Untamed (Wolf Lake)
his face. "There's more, a lot more."
    "I don't care," Natasha said, her honesty heartfelt. "Why is it so hard for you to believe that I want you, just the way you are?"
    Roland's response was to pull his t-shirt over his head. Tossing it aside, he stood bare from the waist up, revealing a broad chest bisected by a furrow so deep it made the scar on his face seem but a scratch.
    "And it doesn't end there," Roland said, his voice barely audible.
    Natasha kept her face carefully blank, her eyes following the river of scars from left shoulder to right hip. His neck was surprisingly unmarred, giving the impression that the damage was restricted to his face.
    His face...his face was closed off, his body already turning from her as if he expected her rejection. Natasha wondered how many females had rejected him, or worse, turned him into some sort of freak show to be experienced, a thrill ride to tell their friends about.
    "What..." Roland had to clear his throat. "What are you thinking?"
    "I was wondering..." Natasha moved closer, resting one hand on his chest as she reached for him, not surprised when he caught her wrist. "I was wondering what you would look like with your hair down."
    Roland grunted. "It's not long enough to hide this."
    Natasha pulled a face. "That's not what I was going for," she said, tugging gently at her hand until he willingly released her.
    Reaching behind his neck, Natasha pulled the tie from his hair, sighing in appreciation as a cascade of black silk rushed forward to frame Roland's face. All one length, his hair hung in a curtain of thick curls, brushing the sharp line of his jaw.
    "So beautiful," she whispered, unable to stop herself from running her fingers along the ends.
    Roland jerked back. Grabbing her wrist, he spun her around, pulling her back against his bare chest. "It's not nice to lie," he growled in her ear.
    Natasha struggled. "I'm not - "
    "I know what I look like." Roland captured her other wrist, wrapping their arms around her, stilling her struggles.
    "Not everyone sees your scars first when they look at you," Natasha said. Her heart was beating hard, Roland large and demanding behind her. She could feel the heat of him pressed up against her, his chest spanning the width of her shoulders.  
    Pressing the unmarred side of his face to her neck, Roland nipped at the skin behind her ear, his body tightening when she tipped her head to the side, giving him the tender skin at her throat.
    Natasha shivered at the feel of Roland's teeth, her nipples hardening when he licked at the heartbeat in her throat. She liked him like this, slightly angry and demanding. Arching her back, she pressed herself against him, feeling the pulsing of his cock between the cleft of her ass.  
    Roland growled, his cock surging in the tight confines of his jeans. She felt right in his arms, her body curving into his embrace. But he wanted to get closer, wanted to see and touch all of her. Tightening his grip, he bent his legs, easing her down as he knelt on the rug.
    Natasha found herself sitting on Roland's lap, her body open and exposed as she reclined against him, her head resting on his shoulder. She could feel him looking at her.
    Roland gazed hungrily down the length of Natasha's body, his eyes brushing over taut nipples to the slight curve of her belly. Shifting her slightly, he settled her more securely on his lap and tried to decide where to start.
    Natasha couldn't take her eyes off Roland's hands as they slowly lifted. He still held her wrists, spreading her arms wide and pressing her hands to the floor.
    "Don't move," he growled against her ear.
    The urge to ignore the quietly-issued order tingled in Natasha's fingertips, causing them to curl into her palms.  
    Roland could feel Natasha's tension rising, her body stiffening slightly as he held her hands immobile. Brushing his lips along her earlobe, he bit down sharply, at the same time pressing her fists more firmly against the ground.

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