11 LUSTY AND RECKLESS
LIZA STARTED TO tremble then, anticipation thrilling through her veins. This pirate had just opened a new world to her.
Rankin slid his hands under her knees, pushing them up, and folding her double so that she was fully exposed to him.
For a moment, he didn’t do anything. He just gazed down at her. His breathing quickened now, and his shaft jerked, impatient.
Heat flushed over Liza, pleasure coiling once more in her loins. The man’s look called to something within her she hadn’t known existed before tonight—something lusty and reckless.
Rankin took hold of his rod then and positioned it against her, but instead of penetrating, he rubbed himself over her slickness, teasing them both.
Her stomach fluttered, and she bit down on her bottom lip. Reaching her peak had left her sensitive. His touch had awakened a hunger within her that wasn’t easily satiated.
“So wet,” Rankin said then, his voice nearly a moan. A moment later, he sank into her, inch by inch. She stretched around his girth, her breath gusting out of her as he buried himself to the hilt. A nerve fluttered in the pirate’s cheek as he stared down at where their bodies joined. “And so hot.”
Liza whimpered. Her mind was muddled now, any thoughts eclipsed by this growing hunger. She couldn’t believe how good he felt inside her. And indeed, she was wet, so aroused now that any lingering embarrassment had fled.
He pulled back slowly then, withdrawing almost to the tip. And all the while, she watched his face, fascinated by the delight that rippled over it.
But when he sank back down, rolling his hips as he went, pleasure spasmed deep in her womb, and she cried out. This position brought him deep and rubbed him up against something—a place that, when he continued to take her in slow, sensual strokes, turned her loins molten.
And she found the way he continued to watch their bodies join—the gasps that escaped him as he plowed her—exciting beyond measure. Her own pleasure grew as she observed his. Sweat gleamed off his naked body, the muscles in his arms flexing as he braced himself against her spread knees, opening her up further still.
Ecstasy twisted then, fluttering and pulsing, and she felt wetness and heat gush from inside her. “Oh, aye!” she gasped, arching against him. “There … aye!”
And he answered Liza’s pleas, driving into her at just the right angle and depth to completely unravel her.
She threw her head back, a long cry tearing from her throat. Lord, she could feel it right down to her toes. Why had no one ever told her about this? How had she lived twenty-seven winters without ever learning that her body could feel so much?
Gasping, she shifted her gaze to Rankin once more. He thrust deep again, and she was sure he’d spill inside her.
But instead, jaw clenched, he withdrew sharply.
An instant later, he turned, allowing his milky seed to jet over the blanket next to him. He crouched there, one hand still braced upon her knee, his sweat-slicked chest rising and falling as sharply as her own. Head bowed, he looked as if he was struggling to master himself.
Liza watched him, fascinated. She hadn’t expected him to withdraw before his own frenzy. She’d thought he’d spill inside her, damn the consequences.
Aye, this man was one contradiction after another.
Rankin moved then, climbing off the mattress and fetching a cloth from beside the washbowl a few feet away. He then wiped up the mess he made before flashing her a rueful smile. “Ye didn’t think I’d be so reckless, did ye?”
Liza swallowed. It was best she didn’t answer that.
He climbed back onto the bed then and stretched out next to her, his glorious body gleaming in the lantern’s glow. She dragged her gaze from him and stared up at the iron lantern with a cresset of burning oil inside gently swinging above them.
“I’d forgotten we were at sea,” she murmured, aware then of the cog’s gentle roll.
“Aye, although if the wind gets up any more … ye won’t forget it,” he replied.
“Have ye ever feared for yer life … in high seas?” she asked then. It was a relief to talk about something besides what they’d just done. She didn’t feel like herself and needed to regain her equilibrium. Aye, this had been her idea—but she hadn’t expected coupling to feel so good. Rankin’s touch had set her on fire.
“Aye … many a time.”
“But The Blood Reiver weathered each storm?”
“She did … she’s a plucky lass.”
Liza gave a soft snort. “I’ve never understood why men talk about their ships as if they were women.”
Silence followed as he considered her question. “I’ve sometimes wondered that. I suppose it’s because sailors’ lives are bound to their cogs … and we depend on them to keep us safe.” He paused then, his tone teasing as he continued, “And we all know, if ye treat a woman well, she’s less likely to drive a dirk into yer back.”
Liza made another rude sound. “If ye are such an expert in women, Rankin, why are ye unwed?”
He cocked a tawny eyebrow. “A pirate captain can’t take a wife.” He gestured to the cabin walls surrounding them. “This is no life for a woman.”
She propped herself up onto an elbow then, regarding him. “So, ye choose The Blood Reiver over a wife and family?”
“Aye … the sea is my mistress, the crew my kin.”
She frowned at his flippant reply. “A dangerous family, by all accounts.”
He shrugged. “I can handle them.” His gaze roamed over her face then. “So, Lady Maclean … was that tumble to yer liking?” His lips quirked then. “Was there enough grunting for ye?”
Heat rose to Liza’s cheeks. “Knave,” she murmured. “Are ye trying to shame me?”
“No.” His expression sobered. “I’m just making sure I satisfied ye.”
Her face started to glow like a candle. “Ye know ye did.”
A smile—irritatingly smug—curved his lips at this admission. “Good … well, let me have a breather, and we can go again.”
Standing on the deck of The Blood Reiver , Liza watched as Rankin readied his crew to go ashore. They gathered around him —a motley group of scarred men of various ages—their brows furrowed.
The captain split them up into those who’d travel with him to Moy Castle, and those they’d drop off to join them later.
Eventually, he shifted his attention to the two pirates still awaiting their instructions. “Egan and Rabbie … I’m leaving ye both here to watch over Lady Maclean,” he said, fixing them with a steely look. “But if either of ye touch her, I’ll have yer balls.”
Both men nodded. However, Egan wore a disgruntled expression, clearly vexed he hadn’t been chosen to join the raiding party. “All right, captain,” he muttered. “No need to start lifting yer leg and pissing to mark yer territory.”
Laughter followed these words, and Liza’s skin prickled, her embarrassment intensifying when she caught the looks some of the pirates exchanged and their grinning faces. She knew Rankin had to keep up his ruse and was merely continuing the mummery he’d begun the day before. All the same, she looked forward to getting off this cog and away from these men.
Flashing Egan a lazy smile, Rankin glanced her way then, for the first time since he’d begun speaking to his men, and their gazes locked.
Heat swept over Liza.
Despite that it was a still morning, her belly started to pitch. And then, the tender flesh between her thighs began to ache.
Curse him, was one look all it took for her to melt?
Rankin hadn’t been full of empty boasts. He was quite a lover. He’d taught her what her body was capable of; he’d roused pleasure that she’d gladly drowned in. And he’d set something within her free. As promised, after a short rest, he’d taken her twice more, and the last time, as he plowed her from behind while his fingers played her like a lyre, she’d sobbed her pleasure into the sheepskins.
She’d collapsed onto the bed afterward, limp and panting, and he’d lain behind her, pulling her against him. Exhausted, Liza had let sleep claim her then, but when she’d awoken at dawn, the bed was empty.
Of course, when she’d emerged from the cabin, sniggers and stares greeted her.
She and Rankin hadn’t been quiet—and their coupling had gone on for a while.
Liza had faced the crew down though. Lifting her chin, she’d walked across the deck to the railing. And as she stood there, watching the sun rise into the eastern sky, turning the glistening sea into a ruddy gold, she braced herself for remorse. For shame.
But there was none.
She felt alive this morning, each sense sharp. Rankin had handed Liza a piece of her that had always been missing, and in the aftermath of their torrid coupling, she felt as if she could take on the world.
“Anything I should know about yer husband?” Rankin asked then, his lips lifting at the corners.
Liza raised her chin. “Other than he’s an ill-tempered brute?”
“Does he favor his left or right hand?”
“His right,” she replied without hesitation.
“How fast is he?”
“Very … don’t underestimate Leod.” She took a step toward him then, her gaze never wavering. “And when ye kill him, tell the bastard that I sent ye.”
Rankin’s gaze widened, as if her bloodthirstiness this morning surprised him, before he nodded. He then unbuckled the sword belt he wore around his hips and handed it to one of his crewmates. He also gave the man his dirk.
Liza eyed him incredulously. “Are ye meeting him unarmed?”
“I won’t be welcomed into the tower house bearing weapons.” Rankin unstrapped a thin-bladed knife from his thigh and slid it into the back of his right boot. “But fear not … I’ll be ready for him.”