Chapter 18
Hook
No sooner had Sage slammed the door behind her than Tink groaned, “Why is the floor moving?”
“You’re drunk.”
She frowned at him. “No shit.”
“What were you thinking?” The anger he’d tamped down rose back to the surface. “Playing that game? Almost exposing yourself?”
Tink pulled the cloak from about her shoulders and stood wobbling. “I can expose myself to whomever or wherever I like! I was almost there. Almost...” Her hands fisted.
“Almost where?” To exposing them to rumors that would spread through half the city before dawn?
“It doesn’t matter.” She half-poured, half-spilled a cup of water from the pitcher on the nightstand. The darn thing wobbled almost as much as her.
She gulped the water and fumbled the cup back onto the small table. When she turned, she gasped, staring up at Hook with that face he saw in his dreams, his nightmares.
“It matters. You could endanger my crew. My—our—mission.” He backed her to the wall, his arms caging her in on either side.
This close, he could just smell the hint of ale on her breath.
And flowers…something exotic that wasn’t from the bar downstairs.
The scent was entirely her. “Almost where? Tell me.”
Her lips pursed. “To forgetting, okay?” She shoved ineffectually at his chest, but bloody hell, he loved it when she tried.
“I wanted…” One hand fisted in his shirt, the other ran down his chest. His muscles tightened in response.
Heat simmered under his skin. A pink tongue flicked out over her lips, and he almost forgot what she’d said.
“What do you want?” He leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching hers.
She stared at him. His gaze caught hers, savoring the desire simmering there, the sheen of lust looming just beyond the ale-induced blur. Would she taste like the drink he’d chugged or the sweet, floral honey he tasted the first time he’d claimed her lips?
“You.”
Her lips pressed against his—tentatively, questioning. Breath caught in his throat. Time stopped. And then everything rushed back like the crash of waves on the shore. Soft lips crushed further against his, demanding a kiss in return. Lithe arms slid up his chest to wind around his neck.
He met her kiss, eager as a boy. Honey. Fuck. Such sweet, delicious honey. Hook groaned against her mouth. His good hand cupped her soft backside, lifting her into the air as her legs wound around him. Together they crashed against the wall. Tink jerked her head away with a yelp.
Wings. Damn. So delicate. The thought slid away as she shot him a vicious grin and resumed their kiss. Hook stumbled back, the woman of his dreams clinging to him. His leg slammed into something. It didn’t matter. Not with her lips on his, her taste in his mouth.
Bed. They needed—it didn’t matter. Those legs wrapped around him, her hair tickling his face, her moans soft against him.
Her tongue swept in his mouth and the world spun.
How he’d dreamed of this since the hot spring, to feel her, to taste her, to have her crave him again.
He bumped something soft and tumbled backward, taking Tink with him.
She squealed as they fell. Breath fled his chest. Their heads bumped together.
“Ow.” Tink slid back, grinding against his hard, needy cock. Bloody hell, why were their clothes still on?
As if she read his mind, Tink pulled the shirt over her head, tossing it away. Her breeches were already unlaced from earlier, exposing the beginnings of her underthings.
“In a hurry, love?” His voice was thick, hoarse. Gods, he loved the way she scowled when he called her that. It was one reason he kept using it.
She started to unwrap her wings and breasts. What a delight that would be, on both fronts. “Need some help?” He reached for the fabric with his hook, yearning to rip it asunder.
She swatted his hook away with a huff and set about her task. It took everything he had to sit still and watch, especially when she kept wiggling on top of him. Each move had his cock straining against his breeches. He ached to sink inside her, to feel her wet warmth wrapped around him.
He toyed with the edge of her breeches, rubbing his thumb along the soft material of her undergarments, savoring each slide of his fingers near the treasure below.
A soft sigh slipped from her kiss-swollen lips as the last of the fabric fell free.
Her eyes closed, and shoulders drooped in simple ecstasy.
Bloody hell, how would she look with a taste of real pleasure?
Her breasts were larger than he expected, a perfect handful.
Aye, ripe for savoring. And savor he would.
The back of his good hand trailed up her stomach.
She shivered, her gaze never leaving his as he palmed one soft globe in his coarse hand. Divine.
Her glassy eyes hooded. “Like what you’ve found?” Gossamer wings fluttered behind her, catching the light of the room. No, a light all their own. She glowed again.
“You’re glowing again, love.”
A sleepy grin spread across her lips. “Good.”
“For me?”
Tink took his hand in hers, pulling it away.
Doubt settled hard in his chest. He shouldn’t have mentioned the wings. Always he did that, and she pulled away.
But she didn’t leave, didn’t flee. Instead, she practically fell atop him, her breasts slamming into his chest as her mouth searched for his again. Their fingers twined against the sheets as he kissed her with all he had.
Hook followed as she pulled back, but she pushed him onto the sheets as she slid to his side on the bed. “I wa-want yous. You. I—” She tugged ineffectually at her breeches.
“Yous?” Shit. He’d forgotten how drunk she was. Did she even realize who she seduced?
The glow of her wings dimmed. “Please, Captain, I…”
Okay, she did, maybe. But her words splashed him in the face with cold reality. He couldn’t fuck her, not tonight. His cock begged, strained. By all the seas and shores, he wanted her. But he had some shred of decency left, whatever the rumors about him said.
She started to remove her breeches, nearly tumbling onto the floor. He couldn’t let her struggle like that.
“Hold still, love.” Hook knelt. Slowly, he inched her breeches down, revealing a dark swath of fabric barely covering her treasure and pale legs that longed for the sun’s kiss. His would have to do.
The moans that filled the room drove him on as he trailed kisses from the tips of her toes to the apex of her thighs. Her fingers wove through his hair, tugging, demanding, and almost painful. The sweetest pain. He’d kiss her delicate skin all day to have her crave him so for only a minute.
“Please.”
Hook pulled away, stripping down with vigor to only his breeches.
Even those he unlaced, giving himself precious space.
His cock fought a war with his brain as he worked, nearly winning, especially as Tink spread her legs on the bed, stroking herself through her underthings.
He scrubbed his hand down his face. Gods she was wet.
He could see it. Of all the times for him to commit to decency…
No woman had ever tempted him half so much.
“Join me?” One delicate finger curled and uncurled, beckoning him over.
He intended to.
Hook slid into the bed, teasing and turning her until her back pressed against his chest. Delicate wings tickled his skin as they folded between them.
The glow had brightened again, their light outshining the candles in the room.
The whiff of floral scent from earlier wrapped around them, drowning out the ale and the musty odor of the room.
It came from Tink—her body’s own perfume.
Each stroke of his hand along the planes of her stomach tested his resolve. Each wiggle of her shapely ass against his cock blurred his mind. And each second that passed he risked claiming her. A lesser man might. But he couldn’t be that man. Not with her.
His hand slid down her underthings, venturing through her damp forest to her slick slit below.
“Yes, yes, please,” she moaned.
Not touch her? Not have her? What was he thinking? Dipping his fingers in her inviting warmth nearly had him coming in his breeches like a boy. He’d never wanted a woman this much. Not even as a boy, when they were all tempting sirens.
Two strokes along her swollen clit, and she whimpered in his arms.
He wanted. Craved. Needed.
Couldn’t.
He groaned low in his throat. “I can’t fuck you.”
Tink went completely still in his arms. Her legs clamped around his hand. The glow of her wings dimmed instantly.
“Why?” The crack of her voice stabbed him in the chest. “It’s because I’m…I’m broken. I—”
“No.” The ache in her voice slew him. He pulled her closer, careful of his hook and her wings. “You’re perfect. But I won’t be a drunken regret.” It was the very last thing he wanted to be.
“James,” she whimpered.
He sucked in a breath. This woman knew how to work him.
Using his name, one he almost forgot he’d given her.
Hook rubbed his face in her hair, savoring her scent and the way it tickled his skin.
“When I fuck you, and I plan to, I want you sober, eager.” He stroked her again, slowly, deliberately.
“When my cock slides into you—” He flicked his fingers against her clit.
“—It’ll be because you want it there, because you asked for it, and not because some drink made you think you wanted it. ”
“I do want it. So much I…” A moan cut off her words.
“Then you’ll want me tomorrow.” One rub of his fingers.
“And the next day.” Another. “And the next.” And another.
“Because one night with you will never be enough.” Damn it, it was true, and he hadn’t even admitted it to himself.
Oh, he was cursed all right. Whether by magical means or not, he wanted this woman like no other, and no drunken fling would satisfy.
“Now. I want—” She ground against his hand.
He nibbled the edge of her earlobe before whispering, “You want to come?”
“Y-yesss.”
With the last bit of his calm, he used his hook to tug down his undershorts, freeing his cock.
Her wet core pressed against his fingers as he teased her folds.
His pace quickened. Hook ground himself against her wiggling backside, savoring the slide of moist cotton against him.
It wasn’t the destination he longed for, but bloody hell, it would do.
Tink cried out, clamping down around his hand.
He thrust against her eager warmth, wringing out her pleasure as she arched against him.
Her wings fluttered, teasing his cock and showering the room in sparkling light.
A moan tore from his lips as he came, jerking toward her soft and willing flesh.
He palmed her wet mound, pulling her tight to him while they embraced the last of their ecstasy.
As the world solidified around him, he could swear he saw something drifting in the air. Dust, but more than the room held before. Something to do with her scent? He may as well lay with her in a field of flowers rather than the narrow bed.
“James…” His name was a raspy whisper on her lips as she twisted her head around to see him.
“Sleep, love.” He kissed her cheek, finally relinquishing his prize to grab the nearby pitcher and a cloth to wipe them clean.
The glow of her wings dimmed as she heaved a contented sigh and settled into the bed.
He wouldn’t sleep a wink with her near-naked body pressed against his. All the same, he wouldn’t leave her. Not now.
Maybe not ever again.