Chapter Twenty
Samantha’s shoulders heaved as Christian panted against her.
She still stretched tight around his manhood. Quivering. Aching.
He didn’t move when she pulled her face from his.
With his eyes closed, she let her gaze roam across him.
The dark stubble along his jaw verged on a beard, and his hair stuck to his cheeks in wet ringlets.
Muscles bulged in his upper arms where they wrapped around her.
All the disapproving lines had slackened, softening his face.
Power surged through her. She had done this. He’d stopped and it had nearly driven her mad. So she’d taken the reins. Not bad for an inexperienced pirate. Not so inexperienced anymore. A wide smile broke free.
His eyes opened, and her grin faltered at the intensity blazing in the dark green depths.
He shifted his grip and his arm brushed across the welt on her back, sending a barb of pain slicing through her.
She jerked, sucking in her breath and he released her.
A rush of warmth spread between her legs when he pulled out and she grimaced at the strange sensation.
“I’m sorry.” His voice rumbled across her, breaking the silence. “Let’s get you to the beach.”
A hand settled in the small of her back, pressing her forward on wobbly legs. When the waves lapped around her waist, she paused. He wanted to walk all the way to the beach. Naked.
“You know you’re beautiful, Red. Don’t be shy.”
How was it he always read her mind? Still, she didn’t move. It didn’t matter that darkness cloaked the beach, the pale crescent moon above providing little light. She turned to ask him to turn his back.
And his lips closed on hers in a soft, yet unyielding kiss. She tilted into him, still unsteady on her feet.
He pulled away a fraction. “Plus, you’re not the only one unclothed here.”
Swatting at him, she stepped back. “But you’re . . .”
Perfect.
The word died on her lips and his eyes twinkled like the stars strewn across the sky above them. The cad knew.
Straightening her back, she twisted toward the beach and strode forth.
His chuckle echoed after her and she quickened her pace. Once on shore, she hurried to the pile he’d left on the ground and swept up the blanket, wrapping it around her. She turned in triumph.
And the smirk fell right off her face.
He exited the water in long strides, water sluicing off him in streams. Her gaze flew to his face, definitely not lingering on the very male part of him on full display. Or the flat planes of his stomach. Or the delicious line of dark hair stretching down from his navel.
Her legs turned to jelly as he approached with a sly grin.
She raised her face heavenward. “You, sir, are no gentleman.”
He stopped in front of her and ran a finger along the edge of the blanket, just above her breasts. “So you keep reminding me.”
A shiver ran through her and he winked. Bending, he retrieved a roll of fabric from his pile of clothes. “Let’s get you bandaged.”
She shifted, her toes digging into the still-warm sand. “I’m fine.”
“I’m sure you are, but I’ll feel better if the worst of it is covered.”
“I’d feel better if you were covered.” She blurted the words out and he laughed.
“You wound my pride, Red. I’m not sure any of my lovers have asked me to cover myself before.”
“We’re not . . .”
Good God, were they?
Her heart thumped. When she lowered her face, he gave her a knowing smile. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he swept up his breeches and stepped into them. Once he tugged his waistband up, he sank to the ground and patted the sand next to him.
Lovers. She chewed on the word for a minute. What did it mean? And more importantly, for how long?
With a sigh, she sat and Christian slid behind her. His hands were gentle when he pulled down the back of the blanket and began wrapping the muslin around her chest.
At first, she tried to keep the blanket up, but after lots of tangling of arms, she dropped it around her waist and covered herself with her hands. As the bandage got higher, his knuckles grazed hers and her blood pounded. If she dropped her hands, would he touch her again?
Her fingers tightened and she sucked in a little breath at the contact. Of course, she’d touched herself before. In front of the mirror, wondering why men loved bosoms so much. But never had she had a reaction. Not like this.
Was it because his arms were twined around her, tying the bandage off at her side? Perhaps because she imagined him touching her, closing his hands over her?
His hands lingered beneath the bandage, stroking up and down her sides, and gooseflesh spread over her flushed skin.
“I was selfish.” His breath slid across her nape before his lips pressed a soft kiss there.
Her mouth went dry. “What do you mean?”
He began to nibble and she squirmed as little bolts of fire shot straight to her core.
“I took my pleasure without giving you yours.” His fingers brushed the top of her thigh and her eyes fluttered at the muted contact through the blanket.
“I assure you . . .” She trailed off as he slid them closer to where she burned, hooking them under the fabric. “It was pleasurable.”
“Mmm . . .” He inched closer. “I want you unable to find words for what you feel. Pleasurable should not even touch the surface.”
She laughed, the sound throaty and foreign to her. “I don’t understand.”
Her body still thrummed from their joining in the sea and heat crept up her chest as she gazed over the waves. She’d never be able to look at the water the same again.
Christian spread his legs to either side of her and gave a gentle tug. “Lean back.”
She relaxed and a moment later, nestled against his chest. The bandage pressed between them, an unwanted intrusion, and she angled farther, resting the back of her head on his shoulder.
“That’s better.” He leaned down and kissed her exposed throat.
Her eyes drifted shut. The velvet contact of his lips moving down to her shoulder sent pleasure coiling around her core. When his tongue flicked out, hot and wet, a little moan formed in the back of her mouth.
His hand slipped beneath the blanket and the searing contact of flesh against flesh made her quiver.
“Shh,” He kissed back up to her ear. “This is about you, Red. Open for me. Let me give you your release.”
The carnal promise in his whispered words slackened her muscles and her thighs parted. Christian made an approving noise and dipped his fingers into her curls.
With expert precision, he used two fingers to spread her open. She gasped at the brush of night air against her most private place.
His other hand slid down and one long finger delved into her heat. He slid it into her and when he pulled free, she blushed at the wet noise.
He closed his teeth over her earlobe and slipped his finger up, stopping on the sensitive nub he’d exposed.
She jerked, but he held her in place until she relaxed against him.
He stroked and swirled his fingertip across that spot until her legs trembled.
A throbbing ache settled beneath his touch and she whimpered, arching away from him. Too much.
He pulled his hands up and she cried out at the loss of contact. Not enough.
His lips curved at her neck and he slid his hands up and out from under the blanket.
“Christian.” She panted his name and tilted her face toward him. He caught her mouth, bit her lower lip, and sucked it into his mouth.
“I know, love.”
He eased out from behind her and spread the blanket out, lowering her to her back a moment later. All the time, his lips never left hers, his tongue dancing against hers.
She drew her knees up as the breeze rippled across her damp skin and Christian’s hand slid back to the inferno blazing between her legs. She pressed up into his touch and he chuckled. “Patience, my dear.”
He slipped one finger, then another into her, swallowing her cry. His hand plunged against her, imitating the thrusts he’d given her in the water earlier, and all the little tendrils of pleasure gathering at her core began to spiral up through her.
It was happening again. She was climbing to that dizzying height once more.
His kisses traveled down her neck, leaving a trail of fire behind. Down to her chest, where he grazed his teeth over one nipple. But he didn’t linger, and his lips trailed lower and lower. When he dipped past her navel, she squirmed. Surely he didn’t mean to . . .
He did.
“Christian!” She tangled her hands in his hair and tugged, trying to deter him.
He ignored her and climbed between her legs, settling so his nose nestled in her curls. His fingers slid free and she stilled, warring with the urge to ask for more and the embarrassment heating her blood.
And then his mouth closed over her.
The shock of it sent her bucking against him. His tongue pressed around her and started to move in quick circles. Samantha flung her face side to side, gasping for breath while her fingers twisted against his scalp.
She teetered on a thin edge of sanity, the pressure building until it became unbearable. One hand disengaged from his hair and dug into the sand as she rocked against him, trying to find her way down. To find release.
“Christian. Please.”
“My pleasure.” His words came muffled, but he increased the speed of his greedy laps and slid a finger back inside her.
She came unhinged.
White-hot pleasure crashed around her and she cried out into the night, every muscle in her body spasming. Each clench of her core around him sent a burst of blinding sensation flying through her.
When the tremors subsided, she panted, unable to take a proper breath. Her limbs lay useless, unable to move. It was as if her bones had left her.
Christian sat up and stared down at her, his eyes hooded and dark.
“That was . . .” She trailed off with a frown. “That was . . .”
He smiled and laid a hand on her still quivering thigh. “I know.”