Only Love Heals A Heart: Steamy Historical Romance

by Gray, Jessica

“I want you to move into the master bedroom,” he said.

  “And what about you?”

  “I can sleep in the shed for a while longer.” It was late September and the nights were still warm, but that would change in the coming weeks.

  She smiled at him. “I’ll move up here, but under one condition. If the roof isn’t ready by the time we’re getting the first nightly frost, I’ll return to the alcove beneath the stairs and you move up here.”

  “It’s a deal,” he said, secretly hoping that by then he would have her convinced to share the room – and the bed – with him.

  “Why don’t you go to work with Tadzio and I’ll ask Malgorzata and Old Jakub to help me carry the closet and the new bed upstairs,” she said, referring to the furniture they’d been buying and making for the upper rooms and storing in the hallway.

  He knew what she was doing. Sparing him from the embarrassment of not being able to help. But for once he didn’t argue with her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Her happy giggle was reward enough.

  After another day of hard work he returned from the fields to a woman giddy with pleasure.

  “Stan, you have to have a look. It’s wonderful!” She propelled him up the stairs and showed him her new realm, where he kissed her on the cheek.

  Clapping hands caused him to turn his head and find Malgorzata and her daughter Lola watching.

  “Thanks for your help. I think we should open a bottle of vodka and celebrate.”

  They all adjourned downstairs and while Tadzio and his little sister played outside, the three adults toasted one another and the new start Stan and Agnieska were making in rebuilding his parents’ house.

  “This is good,” Malgorzata said after they’d emptied the bottle together. “But I should get my children home and let you continue this celebration without us.” She winked at Agnieska before leaving the room.

  “Are you happy?” he asked Agnieska.

  “I’m delirious,” she answered. “Thank you for everything.”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss on her lips. Heat rushed into his groin making him hard as steel within moments. Her soft curves pressed against him and needy moans escaped her throat, making him want more. Much more. But the alcohol swirled in his veins and he knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself in his current state.

  With a deep sigh he pulled away after kissing her one last time. “I better leave now. I’m not sure I can trust myself enough after all the vodka we had.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you for watching out for me,” she said and turned to climb the stairs.

  His heart exploded with love.

  Chapter 17

  Agnieska lay in her bed, or better, hovered inches above the mattress, feeling happier than she had in a long while. He’d been so kind and sweet today. And his kisses… she touched her swollen lips, still tingling with desire.

  It had been a disappointment when he’d left her, yearning for more. But at the same time she was relieved. Nobody had taken the time to explain to her what really happened when a man and a woman lay together, but judging by the grave expressions of the older women, it was a hurtful and annoying affair. Something a woman had to endure, just like scrubbing clothes all day with raw fingers.

  Although… her dearest sister Ludmila, who’d married Stan’s brother Peter, never seemed to dread the nights spent with her husband. Ludmila never talked about what happened between the sheets, but Agnieska could tell from the rosy flush on her cheeks in the morning that she thoroughly enjoyed whatever her husband did to her.

  Maybe it wasn’t all that bad?

  The one thing she was sure about, was that she was falling in love with Stan a little bit more each day, and she couldn’t imagine ever living without him again.

  The cock-a-doodle-do woke her early in the morning and the twilight filtering through the lattice-blinds painted peculiar patterns onto the wall. She smiled, following the lines of light and shadow with her eyes, until she paused. There was an odd fracture in the pattern. She got up, gliding her hand across the wall until she felt it: a distinct edge.

  Frantically she tore the wallpaper away and found a hidden door, the size of a small suitcase. Her fingers trembling and her heart pounding against her ribs, she felt around the edges of the door, until she found the push mechanism to open the door.

  A shudder of guilt ran down her spine. Was she prying into someone’s life? Should she ask Stan to come up and have a look? But curiosity prevailed and she opened the door wide. Behind it was a space in the wall, about as deep as a hand and twenty inches wide and high.

  It contained two small metal boxes. She took them out and sat on the bed, oblivious to her surroundings. The first box contained the wedding bands of Stan’s parents, a golden brooch, a small golden cross and a blue garter made of the finest lace. She fingered the aged material, wondering to whom it had belonged. Then she returned everything to the box and opened the second one.

  It was full to the brim with photographs. A stern looking couple she didn’t recognize on their wedding day, probably Stan’s grandparents. Several pictures of Stan’s parents with their four children. She was about to return them to the box, ashamed at prying into things that weren’t hers, when her glance fell on the photograph of a beautiful young woman with black hair, high cheekbones and the happiest smile on her face, holding the hand of a handsome young man.

  Tears sprung to her eyes as she traced her fingers across the woman in the picture, who wore the most beautiful wedding dress. Ludmila. My beloved sister. She remembered it like yesterday when her six-year-older sister had told their parents that she was in the family way. They’d been upset, enraged even. But Peter had convinced them to let her marry him. He’d even offered to move to Warsaw, away from his family, so Ludmila could finish her education. It had been an emergency wedding, but nevertheless it had been so beautiful. And both Ludmila and Peter seemed so happy.

  More tears flowed down Agnieska’s face. Ludmila was dead. Her parents were dead. Her grandparents. Her aunts and uncles. Her cousins. Her friends.

  Dead.

  Dead.

  Dead.

  The tears flowed freely. She slid down the bed, sinking to the floor, sobs wracking her body. She rocked back and forth, clutching the picture to her chest as tears streamed down her face. The carefully hidden pain surfaced, attacking her with the force of a grenade, shattering her heart into a million pieces.

  She sniffed and sobbed, cried and howled, wishing herself away from the pain. What right did she have to ever be happy again, when so many others couldn’t? It wasn’t fair that she’d survived, when she wasn’t any better than them.

  Mired in her grief, she was oblivious to her surroundings. Didn’t notice the time passing, or Stan call her name. She didn’t even hear the door open when he came inside, muttering a curse when he found her in her desolate state of mind.

  He put a hand on her shoulder and she started, an irrational fear filling her chest.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, concern etched on his face.

  Agnieska looked up at him, the fear fading away even as the deep sorrow she felt consumed her. She couldn’t answer him, couldn’t utter a single word and sobbed all the harder under his scrutinizing gaze. He reached out and pried the photograph out of her hands, staring at it for a long moment.

  She cleared her throat several times, trying to find her voice as more tears streamed down her cheeks. He laid the photograph on the bed and slid to the floor, sitting beside her and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her in close. Agnieska closed her eyes and gave herself over to the comfort he offered. She knew she should be stronger, but just for a little while she wanted to relinquish all her grief, anger, and guilt.

  Stan was there, offering her comfort and warmth. Another human being who knew the depths of hell she’d crossed to come out on the other side. Not unscathed, but alive. He didn’t need words to convey that he understood.

  U
nderstood her struggle with all these emotions. The same emotions he struggled with day after day and that made him burst into fits of rage more often than not. Neither of them moved. Even long after her tears abated, she continued to stay in his arms, allowing her heartbreak free rein.

  “Where did you find that photograph?” he finally asked her.

  The reality hit her again square in the chest. The injustice that his brother Peter was still alive, while her sister Ludmila had died, fueled the hatred in her heart and moments later, she couldn’t hold back the rage. Hatred, fury, desolation and grief spilled out of her.

  Raising her fists, she pummeled them into his chest. Seemingly shocked at her outburst, he caught her wrists, holding them tight.

  “Don’t you dare touch me!” she screamed at him, trying to free herself from his grip.

  “Calm down, will you please?” Stan said, still holding her in his iron grip, which only caused her to double the intensity of her struggle.

  Guilt over her lone survival and shame for wanting to be happy with him added to the volatile cocktail of emotions, and she sagged, only to tear her wrists from his hands when she felt him loosen his grip. The next moment, she pummeled into him again and this time he didn’t try to stop her.

  “Damn you! Damn you for making me feel again! I should have died in the Nazi camps. Why did I survive and everyone else didn’t? How dare you make me believe I could ever be happy again! I don’t deserve it. I don’t.”

  Throughout her tirade, Stan sat there stoically, taking her abuse and murmuring words meant to comfort her. They only served to increase her need to hurt him as much as she was hurting deep inside.

  Chapter 18

  Stan felt utterly helpless. All he could do was hold her throughout her emotional breakdown, murmuring words of comfort and letting her take out her rage on him, because nothing seemed to be penetrating the darkness that consumed her.

  “Agnieska, you need to breathe, sweetheart. Calm down and talk to me.” When she still didn’t react, he tightened his arms around her, bringing her flush against him. She struggled and writhed against him, sending his mind on a completely different path. He swallowed hard, trying to contain the raw lust threatening to overtake him.

  The next moment she thrashed her entire lightweight body against him and more out of surprise than from the actual impact, he toppled over, taking her with him to the floor. He rolled over onto his good side and came to lie half on top of her, grabbing her hands and pinning them above her head. She seared him with a scathing stare, unabated fury still raging within her.

  “I need you to calm down,” he said, not wavering from her stare until he noticed a shift in her mood. Her body softened and she stopped struggling against him. He released her hands and she wrapped them around his shoulders even as she said, “Kiss me, Stan. Show me there’s something worth living for.”

  He wanted to say no. Wanted to move away from her, but how could he deny her begging eyes? It was just a kiss. Nothing more. As soon as he pressed his lips onto hers and she thrust her tongue into his mouth he knew he would never be able to stop.

  With a groan he took the kiss deeper, capturing her agitated moans in his mouth. His hands roamed her body, learning the curves of her waist, her hips, her gorgeous ass. She still wore her nightgown, which made it easy for him to slide his hand beneath it, caressing her long legs, feeling the goosebumps springing to her soft skin. Lust clouded his thoughts and all he wanted was to slide inside her and release the sexual tension that had been building for months.

  In a moment of clarity he remembered they were still lying on the floor. He shouldn’t be taking advantage of her like this. So he stopped, took his hand away, but she clung to it like a drowning woman, putting it right back where it had been.

  “Sweetheart, are you sure this is what you want?” he hissed, his voice thick with lust.

  “Must. Need. Must feel alive. Please, don’t go,” she stammered.

  “Let us at least get onto the bed,” he said. If she had second thoughts, this was her chance to make him stop, otherwise… Agnieska did nothing more but gaze with her big green eyes, setting every cell inside him on fire. Somehow she helped him up and they stumbled onto the bed.

  His dick pressed hard against his trousers, painfully throbbing with need. For a fleeting moment he wondered how he’d be able to thrust into her with only one leg, but those worries faded away when he opened the buttons of her nightgown, exposing her porcelain white breasts to his view. He filled his hands with the two luscious globes, his thumb teasing the erect nipples.

  But he needed to feel her heat. His hand surged beneath the bunched fabric of her nightgown, encountering nothing beneath. He pressed his hand onto her mound, delving his fingers between her folds. As his fingers met her wetness, he lost the remainder of his self-control. He continued to kiss her while undoing the front of his trousers. Without bothering to remove the trousers, he struggled into position and press into her wet heat, when she stiffened beneath him with a muffled groan.

  Her hands came to his chest and she pushed against him. He stopped kissing her, worried about her sudden resistance. When she kept her eyes averted, he lifted a hand and tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes, all the while he remained just barely inside of her sheath. Her eyes locked with his, the stark terror and uncertainty taking him by surprise.

  She stopped pushing against him and he slowly pressed further inside of her, just to see the terror return into her eyes and he suspected he knew what was going on.

  “Sweetheart, have you ever been with a man before?” When she shook her head, a surge of delight flooded his body, followed by a pang of guilt. He’d have to hurt her. But that unfortunately was how things had to be.

  He kissed her tenderly, ignoring his body demanding he finish what he’d started. “There’s no reason to be afraid. It will only hurt for a moment, I promise. The faster we get this first time over with, the better.”

  She nodded, her eyes full of uncertainty… and fear. He steeled himself against what was to come and pushed inside her fast and hard. Her barrier gave way the same moment she gasped with pain. Stan knew he had to continue, couldn’t stop now, had to finish the intercourse or she might never get used to having him inside her.

  Thrusting again and again, he soon toppled over the edge into blissful paradise.

  Chapter 19

  So the old women were right. Agnieska felt like she was being torn open, vowing she’d never engage in such an activity again as the pain down there intensified with each of Stan’s thrusts. It was a completely unpleasant experience and she had no idea what had possessed her to beg him to take her in the first place.

  She closed her eyes and hoped it would be over soon. Never to be repeated. After a while the sharp stabbing pain she’d felt when he pushed into her and broke the resistance of her virginity gave way to a dull ache that seemed to intensify as he moved.

  For a brief moment anger bubbled up. Anger at him. Mostly at herself. She should have known better than to expect anything but discomfort. Hadn’t the other women always stressed it was nothing more than a chore to be endured?

  As he pushed back inside her again, a frisson of pleasure captured her attention right beneath the dull pain deep inside of her, but the pain was still too fresh and raw to be ignored. She got lost in her head, hoping that as soon as he finished his business, he’d let her go and never mention this incident again.

  He groaned and collapsed over her. He must be done, she thought, waiting for him to roll off of her and start their day’s work. But that wasn’t what Stan had in mind. He kissed her, tenderly and without the urgency present before. As his lips molded themselves to her own, the warmth she’d felt earlier in his embrace simmered just beyond her reach.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I would have saved you the pain if I could have, but that’s just how it is the first time. It’ll get better and I promise. I’ll make it up to you.” His words were soft against her ear, his lips
brushing her skin with each spoken word.

  Agnieska wasn’t sure she believed him. Right now, having him pressed so closely against her bordered on being annoying, and she could only pray he was done for the day. The week. Forever.

  But Stan seemed to have different plans. Instead of getting up, he rolled to his side and his hand skimmed up her torso, finding her breast. She flinched as he took off her nightgown and she lay naked before him, no thread of fabric covering her modesty. But as soon as he rolled her nipple between his rough fingers, her brain stopped working and all she could do was hold on for the ride.

  The earlier tingling heat she’d felt returned with a vengeance, knocking the breath out of her, making her writhe and moan. Her nipple turned into a taut peak, heat and pleasure radiating deep into her stomach and beyond.

  Without even knowing she arched her painful core against him, shocked at the big, hard erection pressing at her belly. She backed away, taking a glimpse at his exposed member. She’d seen a penis before, after all she’d helped care for her nephew since birth, but Jan’s small and limp appendix bore no similarity to the huge, stiff rod Stan sported now. She quickly closed her eyes.

  This huge monster had been inside her? No wonder it had hurt like hell. If she’d seen it before… she wouldn’t have allowed him to even try and squeeze inside. Any sane person could have seen it wouldn’t fit.

  “I don’t think I can do it ever again; you’re too big,” she whispered.

  Stan smiled. “Oh, no, I fit perfectly and I promise you, the second time you will enjoy it.”

  “How can being torn open be enjoyable?” She wanted to flee the bed, but his insistent fingers kept rubbing her nipple, making her quiver, revving up the fire she felt inside.

  “You’ll see.” Stan kissed her on the lips and then moved down her body to take her breast into his mouth.

  She gasped when his wet, hot tongue connected with the sensitive skin, making her burn up from the inside out with insatiable hunger. Ever so slowly he teased her breast with tongue and lips, going in circles around the place where she needed it most. Another moan escaped her throat.