Chapter 18 #2
Seconds later, when she saw the half-open door to his cabin loom up before them, she blushed furiously. Good heavens, what was she doing? Had she completely lost her wits? She was letting a pirate carry her to his bed!
Oh, yes, a pirate . . . who kissed like a god, who made her feel things she’d never felt in her life. She wasn’t mad; she was just tired of fighting, tired of craving his hands on her and having to resist her desires.
He kicked the door open and carried her inside, then kicked the door shut behind them.
The latch fell into place with an ominous clunk.
Shyly she glanced around the cabin she’d entered only twice before.
The flame burning in the lamp by his bed flickered briefly, then glowed strong, swinging back and forth with the ship’s motion to sweep golden light across the scarlet coverlet and inky pillows .
. . the same scarlet coverlet that hundreds of women had probably graced.
Her heart pounded faster. She shouldn’t be here, not with him. She couldn’t be one of those women.
Or could she? She glanced up at his face, searching for some indication that this meant more to him than yet another conquest. But once his eyes locked with hers, even that possibility ceased to matter. She was lost in his need, the same need that mirrored her own.
Keeping his heated gaze on her, he lowered her to stand before him, so close to his bed that she grazed it with her knee when she steadied her balance on the shifting floor. “Turn around,” he said thickly.
She didn’t know why, but she obeyed his command. When his hands unfastened her bodice, a shudder of anticipation swept her. He undressed her like a man who knew exactly what he was doing. Her white gown dropped to the floor, leaving her in her cambric shift.
It was only when he drew her shift off her shoulders and down to bare her breasts that she knew a moment’s panic. Though he’d bared her breasts before, he’d never done it quite so blatantly. And certainly never in such compromising surroundings. It made their union seem somehow . . . inevitable.
When he began to slide her shift past her hips, she caught his wrists with both her hands. “Gideon, please . . . I mean, I’ve never . . . that is, I’m . . . I’m—”
“—a virgin.” He turned her around to face him, his expression so earnest that her heart began to trip faster. “Don’t you think I know that? No woman has ever fought so hard to preserve her virtue. But there’s no need to fight.”
He skimmed a hand up her body to mold her naked breast, teasing the nipple until she sighed. “You’re as ready for this as I am, sweetheart. And if you don’t believe me now, you’ll believe me shortly. I promise you’ll never regret the loss of your virtue.”
Though she suspected he was right, she colored a deep scarlet when he slid her shift the rest of the way off, leaving her naked.
He cast her a long, seductive look, lingering on her breasts, her belly .
. . the thatch of hair between her legs.
She couldn’t believe she was suffering his gaze, even welcoming it.
But then, if anybody had told her a month ago she’d be standing next to a pirate captain’s bed, craving his touch like a dockside tart, she’d have mocked them.
A woman of character would hide herself. But she was sorely tired of being a woman of character. No man had ever looked at her like this, and though it embarrassed her, she also felt a certain feminine pride in his admiring gaze.
Under that look, her breathing grew as labored as his. That is, until he stroked one finger from the underside of her breast down her belly to her thighs. Then she stopped breathing completely.
“You have a body made for corrupting,” he said in a harsh whisper. “And I intend to corrupt it thoroughly tonight.”
A tiny thrill went through her at his words, a thrill that only sharpened when he sat down on the bed, then caught her about the waist, drawing her close to stand between his legs.
His mouth fastened on one of her breasts, sucking hard on the nipple until she gasped aloud.
Oh, why did he have to make it so exquisite?
Why couldn’t he be clumsy or awkward or even cruel? Then she could fight him.
But he was the perfect master of seduction. While his mouth caressed one breast, his fingers kneaded the other until the tip was a tight knot, aching for his touch, for his hot mouth and clever fingers. She clutched his head closer, and he groaned.
“You taste so good,” he murmured against her breast. “And I’ve wanted you for so damned long . . .”
Then he was drawing hard on her breast again, distracting her as his hands stroked her rib cage, her waist, her thighs.
He caught her unaware when he slid his legs between hers, then tugged her forward until she straddled his lap, her knees bent and resting on the bed on either side of his hips.
The move opened her so blatantly to him that she hid her crimson face against his shoulder.
But he wouldn’t let her hide. Tipping her chin up, he stared at her face, a devilish smile playing over his lips. “Remember what I did to you in the forest? Would you like me to do that again?”
She could only stare at him in mute embarrassment, unable to utter even a word.
He dropped his hand to her thigh, then glided it up the soft inner skin.
A shiver of desire whispered over her, and to her mortification, her lower body undulated toward him just a fraction.
With a knowing look, he inched his hand up until it brushed her dewy curls. But he stopped there.
His eyes locked with hers, gleaming with purpose. “I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you want. Tell me you want me inside you.”
Her cheeks flamed even more. Oh, he was too cruel. He was paying her back for every time she’d refused him.
“I know you do,” he said with the most infuriating confidence.
“But I want you to say it. I won’t have you telling the women tomorrow that I ravished you against your will.
” His thumb parted her damp hair to rub against the tiny nub there, making her jerk and press herself shamefully against him.
But his thumb danced away after that brief caress.
“Say you want me,” he growled. “Say it!”
Now his hand was stroking the inside of her thigh again, making her ache to feel those sensuous strokes higher up. She squirmed, trying to get nearer that terrible hand and its tempting offer of pleasure, but he took his hands off her when she did so.
“Please, Gideon . . . please . . . touch me.” The words were out before she could stop them. Her voice didn’t even sound like hers, so breathy and sensual. Another woman possessed her body, making her act like this wanton, and she couldn’t seem to stop it. “Please. . .”
He scowled. “That’s all I’m going to get from you, isn’t it? Very well. It’s enough. For now.”
Then he slipped one finger deep inside her in a velvet stroke that wrung a sigh from her lips. He began a slow motion . . . enter . . . retreat . . . enter . . . retreat. She rocked against his hand, and when his glittering gaze on her became too much, she hid her face again in his shoulder.
His hair brushed her cheek, smelling of smoke and cinders. Although he’d bathed since they’d fought the fire, he still bore the scent of the Prince of Corruption—of flames and ashes and brimstone.
It didn’t matter. He stood at the gates of hell beckoning her in, and she rushed toward them without a thought.
God forgive her, but she did want him. She wanted him more than anything she’d ever wanted.
She’d been headed for damnation ever since that day in the forest, and tonight had only sealed her fate.
He nuzzled her cheek, then his mouth sought hers, taking it with a savage eagerness that amplified her need.
His tongue mimicked the movements of his fingers, driving in and out.
She could feel his arousal press between her legs, but could pay it little heed when he caressed her with such deep, erotic strokes.
He broke off their kiss, his breathing harsh, guttural.
Her hair fell into her face as strange new sounds erupted from her lips.
The press of his hair-roughened chest against her now sensitized breasts only heightened the delicious sensations.
He brought her to the brink of the same pleasure he’d given her before, then abruptly withdrew his hand. A whimper of protest escaped her lips before she could stop herself, and her eyes shot open.
He wore a decidedly wicked expression. “Not this time, sweetheart. This time we’ll reach it together.”
As she stared at him, uncertain what he meant, he lifted her off his lap and laid her back on the bed, then stood up beside it.
Tugging at his belt buckle, he yanked off his belt and flung it aside.
She heard it clatter to the floor halfway across the cabin as he tore loose the buttons of his trousers, then dragged them off.
Her mouth formed a silent “O” to see him completely naked.
So this was what men looked like. She doubted anybody could have prepared her for the sight of Gideon with his clothes off.
His lean, scarred belly . . . his navel ringed with dark hair .
. . his thick, corded thighs that attested to many hours spent balancing on a moving ship’s deck—all of it tantalized and shocked her at the same time.
But what stunned her most was what lay between his thighs. Fully aroused, he was man enough to stun any woman. He was going to put that inside her? He would kill her!
“I . . . I can’t . . .” She lifted her gaze to his face, desperate to make him understand. “I can’t do this!”
She sat up and reached for a pillow to cover herself, but he was too fast for her. He climbed onto the bed, kneeling next to her, and she waited for him to mock her for her fears. Instead, he lifted her clenched hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers till they relaxed and opened.
Before she knew what he was doing, he’d taken her hand and placed it on his hard shaft. She tried to draw her hand back, but he closed his fingers around hers. “You see,” he murmured in a strained voice, “it’s not so bad, is it? It’s only flesh. Flesh that aches for you, that belongs inside you.”
He moved her hand on him, letting her feel the tight, smooth skin encasing his hardness.
His fingers dropped away from her, and she continued the motion until he swore and pushed her hand away.
“I’ll go insane if you keep that up, sweetheart.
I’m too ready for you.” He flashed her a smile. “And you’re ready for me.”
When she opened her mouth to protest that she could never be ready, he kissed her, his arms clutching her so closely she could scarcely breathe. Before she knew it, he was shifting her body to lie beneath his and spreading her legs apart with his knees.
Then he was sliding inside her. She gasped at the intrusion and wrenched her mouth from his in shock.
“It’s all right,” he whispered in soothing tones. “Relax, sweetheart. Just relax.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” She was all too aware of him inside her, over her, around her. She’d never felt so totally helpless, so conquered.
A lock of black hair fell over his forehead, making him look devilish, though his next words were anything but. “I don’t know,” he muttered with a shade of uncertainty. “I’ve never taken a virgin before.”
He moved further inside her, and she stiffened. “How wonderful,” she said sarcastically as the sense of intrusion only increased. “You’re a novice at this.”
His lips twitched, as if he were suppressing a grin. Or a groan. “I’m only a novice at taking virgins. But I’m about to remedy that situation.”
He inched further inside her, then stopped abruptly, his eyes growing solemn as he stared down into her face. “You know it’ll hurt some when I break your maidenhead, don’t you?”
She nodded wordlessly.
“Do you trust me not to hurt you more than necessary?”
Every muscle in his face seemed taut from the effort of entering her slowly, and his eyes glittered with need. Yet he held off, waiting for her answer. That reassured her as nothing else could have. He might be a pirate, but he would not deliberately harm her.
Though she feared he had the power to hurt her deeply.
“I trust you,” she whispered.
“Good.” He sheathed himself fully inside her.
It was only a quick little burst of pain, but enough to make her cry out.
He caught her cry with his mouth, kissing her until she relaxed.
Then he began to move, sliding into her with long, slow strokes.
At first it felt tight and unfamiliar. Then the slick friction of him inside her began to warm her, to rouse intriguing new sensations inside her.
She felt herself open and loosen for him, like a sail unfurling to accept the mighty thrust of wind against it, inside it.
He held himself over her, his eyes the blue of the sky and the wind and the stormy sea. He thrust deeper, harder, making her ache for more.
It was sweet heaven and the torments of hell in one.
Having him, but not enough . . . wanting him, but too much.
Only half-conscious of what she did, she clutched at his arms to anchor him against her.
He groaned, desire flaring higher in his face as he increased his tempo.
He drove into her now as if he feared losing her, and she dug her fingernails into his arms to ride out the storm.
She felt as if he reached to the very heart of her. The ship rocked him and he rocked her, thrusting deeper and deeper, building the tension inside her until she cried out with needing him.
“My God,” he muttered as he drove wildly inside her, like a mythical sea beast riding the waves. “My God, Sara . . . my Sara . . . yes, my Sara . . .”
Her head tossed against the pillows as the pressure built inside her, making her cry out and strain harder and harder to fuse her body with his.
“Yes . . . oh, yes, Sara!” he half-shouted, half-groaned as he drove himself in her to the hilt. Jerky shudders wracked his body as he spilled himself inside her. She broke over the edge and felt herself careening through space.
As she cried out her pleasure beneath him, she fleetingly thought that he’d finally done exactly as he’d promised. He’d corrupted her. And to her endless shame, she reveled in it. She was truly wicked.
Oh, how glorious it was to be wicked.