Page 105 of Far From Sherwood Forest
Swallowing hard, I turn and face him.
His eyes are wet. His lower lip trembles. He moves forward slowly, like he’s gliding.
When he stands in front of me, he places both hands on the sides of my face, and I have to stop myself from shattering right there from his touch. A beam of sunlight peeks through the trees, turning his eyes the brightest shade of green I’ve ever seen them.
“I’m so fucking in love with you.”
The next breath I take is easy, like I can finallybreatheas his words soak into my lungs.
“Not halfway, not in pieces. I meant it when I said I’mallin, Henry, and that includes my heart too.” The more he speaks, the less his voice wavers, like his words are giving him strength as much as they are me. “And I love all ofyou. The cracks, the rage, the softness you try to hide. Every single jagged edge of you. I don’t care how long it takes or how much it costs me. I will tear down every wall you build if it means you’ll keep me and let me guard your heart.”
Each word pierces through me, as though he sews them straight into my chest where they weave into silk thread that stitches me together, making me whole.
This time, Robin is the one to save me from the noose I put around my own throat.
Grabbing him by the front of his shirt, I pull him to me and kiss him. It’s hard and fast and so far from graceful. It’s messy, like we don’t know where the edges of each other are anymore. My heart’s pounding. I gasp into his mouth as our tongues slide together.
His hands glide down to the sides of my neck. My skin prickles, as if each of his fingertips is a match, striking along every one of my nerve endings that spark to life as though they’re reawakening. My pulse hammers so hard I swear he must feel it beneath his thumbs.
When we finally break apart, I’m still holding his shirt in my fist, both our chests heaving. I rest my forehead against his so he can feel the intensity behind my gaze.
“I’m keeping you forever, Robin, because you’re fucking mine,” I tell him as we share each other’s air. “I never want to know what it feels like to be without you. I never want enough time to pass to the point that I forget your touch. Or how it feels to need you and have youthere.I don’t want to go back to the version of me that didn’t know what this—you—feels like.”
A tear slips down his cheek as he inhales a shuddering breath. “Never, Henry. I’ll never leave you. Not again. I swear it.”
I kiss him once more, slower this time.
I’ve never felt this weightless, like nothing bad can touch me because I havehistouch instead.
He’s struck me like one of his arrows.
And I plan on keeping him in my heart forever.
After we track down the horse I stole this morning, I tie Robin’s hands together behind his back with the rope. He decides to be a cheeky little shit and rubs his ass against my crotch.
“This feels familiar, Sheriff.”
Reaching around him, I grab him by the throat, pulling him back against my chest so I can growl in his ear, “Careful, Robin Hood. I’m a very impulsive man.”
“Oh, I’m aware.”
I bite the shell of his ear, causing him to gasp. Chuckling, I hoist him up onto the back of the horse before climbing up behind him.
Since we traveled so far from Robin’s camp, it takes us twice as long to make it to the outskirts of Nottingham. We can see the tops of the spires of Prince John’s castle as I bring the horse to a halt just outside of town.
It’s quiet. No sign of Will and Alan.
“Do you think…”
Robin’s voice trails off, not wanting to speak both our fears out loud.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” I reassure him. “We’re actually a little early. Let’s not start worrying yet.”
However, as we settle in to wait, our combined worry hangs heavy in the air as the sun hovers directly above us. Robin starts feeling restless, evident by the way he squirms in the saddle. I keep my hand on his hip and give it a gentle squeeze every time his agitation grows. It makes me think about last night and the way him warming my cock calmed us both enough that we were able to get some sleep. Too bad we can’t do that right now.
It’s probably been over twenty minutes when the sound ofhooves reaches us. We both peer down the path until two horses come into view, galloping toward us.
Alan and Will ride beside each other and come to a stop in front of us. They look a little worse for wear, their clothes and hair sticking to them with sweat. There’s a dark red patch on the sleeve of Alan’s tunic from what looks like a graze with a sword.
