Chapter Sixteen #2
Her eyelids lifted, heavy with need and she met his burning gaze. He brushed his thumb over her swollen lips, sending the most delicious tingle straight to her toes. Her breaths came in quick pants as his fingers slowly curled in her hair.
Somehow, she found her voice. “Was that proper?”
“Mmm… Far from it.” His voice rasped over her in a rough caress laced with promise, sending her already frantic pulse spiraling higher.
Emboldened, she lifted on tiptoes and leaned into him.
This time, his mouth claimed hers with a raw, unyielding hunger.
His tongue tangled with hers with a fervor she couldn’t hope to match.
Her knees weakened and she sagged against him, swaying in time with the ship, her hands balled into fists in his shirt to keep herself upright.
Without breaking their kiss, he started moving toward the wall. Rafter by rafter, his arm held them steady as the ship’s movement became an afterthought. The backs of her knees hit something. The bed.
His forehead pressed to hers and he grinned, lips still pressed against her own. “That. Was a proper kiss.”
He lowered the hand at her neck, and with the sudden loss of support, Josephine fell back onto the sheets. Her hands remained tangled in his shirt and he followed, hovering over her on his hands and knees.
He dropped his lips to her ear. “Would you like more?”
The words sent a molten barb to her core. She’d never wanted anything so badly in her life. “Yes.”
He closed his teeth over the tender skin of her neck, and Josephine jerked at the searing contact, the back of her hands brushing his soaked breeches.
“You’re going to get the bed wet.” The words came out in a breathless whisper as his teeth grazed the skin above her collarbone.
He pulled his head back with a devilish grin. “What would you have me do?”
Take them off.
Her eyes widened. She’d almost spoken the shocking words aloud.
He chuckled, his mouth continuing its path of sweet torture, stopping when he met her shift. He nibbled the linen, tugging down as her chest rose and fell in an erratic rhythm. The fabric moved with agonizing slowness, stretching until he uncovered the dusky pink of her areola.
With an appreciative growl, he gave a sharp tug and her nipple sprang free. He hooked a finger below the neckline, dragging it further, until her entire breast was bared.
“Mmm…” He stared at it with a quiet reverence before he began planting small kisses around her nipple, each one bringing him closer to the hard point.
Soon, he hovered above it, hot breath caressing her skin.
She squirmed beneath him, arching to push herself straight into the heat of his open mouth. With a groan, he clamped around her.
He sucked, the warmth of his tongue enveloping her nipple, interrupted here and there by the rough drag of teeth. Josephine’s head fell back at the exquisite feeling—too much and too little all at the same time.
“So perfect.” He nuzzled the valley between her breasts, shifting the fabric to bare her completely.
While his mouth closed over her nipple once again, one hand cupped her other breast, his rough palm alternating between squeezing and rubbing as his mouth worked its magic. Torture. Sweet torture. Her back arched and her mouth fell open, words forming and dissolving in the span of a second.
Finally, when she thought she could bear it no longer, he lifted his head, eyes dark with desire.
He grinned and let his fingers trace the hem of her shift.
Slowly, deliberately, he gathered the fabric, lifting it inch by inch.
Gooseflesh rose in its wake, her breath catching as he exposed more of her to the lamplight.
When it bunched at her waist, he sat up, straddling her.
Aching heat coiled low in her belly, mingling with the warmth that pulsed quietly through her.
She shifted beneath him, seeking relief, but the motion only deepened the sensation.
He sat in silence, his gaze burning into her as he took her in, thumbs tracing lazy circles at her sides as he waited. For what? What did he want her to do? Bare him as he had done her? She almost growled her frustration at her lack of knowledge.
With shaking fingers, she unbuttoned his shirt, letting it fall open.
Even cloaked in the shadows, the muscles of his chest stood out, each one carved and honed.
Her mouth went dry as she feasted on the sight.
She lifted her hands and laid them flat against his skin, marveling at the solid heat and strength beneath her palms. Men in Tortuga often worked shirtless, so why did seeing him affect her so?
Her fingers flexed outward, skimming over soft blonde hairs.
The faint matting grew thicker, forming a trail that arrowed down toward his waistband.
She followed it, and his breath hissed out.
With a soft growl, he leaned down and captured her mouth once more. This time, he kissed her slowly, soft lips teasing hers open. He shifted his position and her eyes widened. The thin linen between them did little to disguise the bulge pressing against her.
Was it…? Her cheeks flamed as she remembered the very same protrusion pressing against her bottom at the tavern.
Tentatively, she reached between them, her fingers brushing the rigid warmth there.
Her pulse jumped. He rocked his hips, grinding himself fully into her palm and she gasped.
So hard. She gave a tentative squeeze. He groaned into her mouth, the sound low and rough, reverberating through her like a spark to dry tinder.
She fumbled with the buttons at his waistband, the sudden need to feel his flesh against her skin consuming her.
He didn’t stop her when she slid her hand inside, her fingers tangling in coarse curls.
And then, the smooth heat of his manhood bumped her knuckles.
He sucked a harsh breath in when she turned to hold him.
She slipped down his length, her lips parting as she explored him—velvet soft, yet forged like iron.
“Be careful, or I’ll be finding my release in your hand, love.” He reached between them and caught her wrist, pulling her from his pulsing heat.
His palm settled on her ankle, cool flesh tempering the fire raging within her.
But the relief didn’t last as he skimmed it up her calf, pressed it to her thigh.
Heat spiraled from her core as his fingertips eased closer and closer to her most private place.
Somehow, she knew if he would only touch her there, the pressure would ease.
“Please.” The word tumbled free at the same time as she lifted her hips, bringing him agonizingly closer.
He pushed through her curls, one finger flicking out to touch her, there and gone in a flash.
But that minuscule touch sent her senses spiraling, giving a split second of blessed relief.
A sound built in the back of her throat, and when he touched her again, a moan broke free.
This time, he kept the contact, rubbing a slow circle.
Josephine’s eyes fluttered shut as something fierce and unfamiliar began to twist and curl behind his finger.
Her back arched, hips colliding with his, and his growl rumbled through the room.
He moved, the solid weight of his knee parting her thighs.
A moment later, his other one followed, spreading her legs to either side of him.
She lifted her head, but couldn’t see over her bunched shift.
Even the thought of being open before him sent molten awareness rippling through her.
The ache between her legs verged on unbearable, throbbing with a need she could not name. Her thoughts fractured as his length settled there, nudging her with blunt heat. His breath hitched and he dropped his head, lips grazing her neck. She shivered and he groaned.
“So wet. So soft.” The barely decipherable words sent a thrill through her.
He shifted, his flesh slipping up and down her most private spot.
Each movement sent tendrils of exquisite pleasure radiating through her, each one stronger than the last as he pressed closer and closer to her core.
With a subtle rock, the very tip of him pushed there, and the throbbing ache in her core seemed to bunch up tight. He went still and she nearly cried out.
“May I?” his voice came gravely, between pants.
She might die if he didn’t.
“Please.” The word came on a gasp. “Yes.”
His hands closed around her hips, holding her in place as he thrust forward. A splinter of pain burned from where they joined, wrenching a sharp gasp from her.
He froze, his breathing hoarse and fast. “I’m sorry. I thought…at the tavern…the way you…” His eyes pressed shut as he trailed off.
A thread of shame twisted in her belly—he’d thought she was a lightskirt. That the easy laughter and boldness had meant she had experience. Seconds passed as he hovered motionless above her and the uncomfortable tightness began to ease.
“I…” She couldn’t form words. Couldn’t form a rational thought as an all-consuming need gripped her—the need for more. More of him. More of this.
“Tell me to stop.” He began to pull free, the movement sending an explosion of feeling radiating from her core.
She gasped again, this time from the pleasure.
If he stopped, she might never experience anything like this again.
The thought sent a chill nipping at the edges of all the warmth throbbing through her body and her fingers curled, digging into his back.
“No.”
“Miss—” She lifted a finger to his lips before he could address her formally and his brows pushed together. “You don’t understand.”
“I do.” Her breath came out on a shudder. “I understand I want this. More than anything.”
He pressed his eyes closed, a silent battle etched in the lines of his face as he remained motionless. Damn man was going to stop himself. So, she did the only thing she could think of—she tilted her hips up, making him slide a little deeper.
He groaned, brows furrowed. She did it again. And this time, he moved with her, in a slow glide that filled her. “Is that…?” He searched her eyes and she nodded.
“Yes.”
His head dropped forward and he repeated the movement. Every fiber of her body thrummed as the slick slide of their bodies together sent fingers of sharp pleasure radiating outward, each one stronger than the last. The ache at her core returned, hot and heavy, somehow accentuating the pleasure.
“God, you feel so good.” His eyes squeezed shut, his features taut with intensity.
His lips found hers once more, the primal groans vibrating from the back of his throat sending new waves of fire shooting straight to where they joined.
He moved with deliberate care, pulling nearly all the way out before plunging deep inside.
Her hips moved with him, the fullness of each slick thrust wrenching a small moan from her.
He adjusted his weight onto one hand and reached between them with the other in a jerky movement.
When his finger found her sensitive spot again, she cried out.
The intensity of that touch mixed with the friction of his shaft within her sent her teetering on the edge of a precipice—one she didn’t know existed.
At once, all of the sensation became too much. Too unbearable.
She tried to pull away, but he pressed harder, his fingertip moving so fast, she cried out. Her hands twisted in the sheets as she wriggled under him, hips bucking.
“Please.” The word came out in a desperate whimper.
“Shh…” His mouth moved to her ear, lips brushing her skin. “Just let go.”
Let go.
He made it sound so easy.
“How?”
With a groan, he seated himself fully within her, and slowed his finger, rubbing lazy circles. With the torment eased somewhat, she tried to focus, her breaths coming in quick gasps.
His heavy eyes locked on hers. “Close your eyes.” She obeyed and he slowly increased the tempo. The intense sensation tightened in her core, every inch of her on fire with need. “Don’t fight it.”
She let her head fall back, tense muscles slackening.
“Yes, that’s it.”
The encouragement was all she needed. With one last gasp, the pent-up sensations exploded outward, almost numbing in how they laid her body flat.
A fractured scream tore through her throat, echoing from the rafters above as wave after wave of energy poured through her.
Moments later he grunted and yanked himself free, his body shuddering over her.