Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
To what extent Hook is to blame for his tactics on this occasion is for the historian to decide.
Tears swim in my vision as I hold onto him.
“Lass, are you all right?” He kisses my tears away, then takes my mouth.
“I’m … I’m …” I move my hips and moan. “I want you.”
My words seem to light an even brighter blaze in him, because he pulls back and rocks into me hard. His body is tense, every muscle strained as he goes slow, working his cock into me again and again as I get used to it.
It’s not what I expected at all. I thought it would hurt. It doesn’t. It’s … different. I move my hips and whimper at the rush of sensation it sends through me.
He grunts when I move again, my body adjusting to him.
“So goddamn tight.” He pulls my dress from my shoulders and cups one of my breasts, then drops his mouth to my nipple and sucks it as he continues to thrust, working himself deeper and deeper.
I feel a little pinch and gasp.
He stills, his eyes meeting mine. “Lass?”
“Slow.” I kiss him, his mouth taking mine roughly, hungrily.
“I can’t.” He presses deeper. “I can’t go slow with you. I never could.”
I wriggle, my body focused on the heat building between my thighs as he cups my breast and kisses my throat.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs against me. “So beautiful, lass. Can’t go slow.” He thrusts harder, sending shocks of desire through me.
It feels so strange, but it also gives me pleasure in ways I’ve never experienced.
“I need you.” He returns to my mouth and thrusts back and forth, sliding inside me as I dig my heels into the backs of his thighs. I grow wetter, his movements more slippery, my body desperate for more.
“That’s my good lass. Take me in. All of me.”
I move with him, and when he’s fully inside me, his body grinding against mine, I can feel my orgasm building.
“James,” I gasp, my eyes on his.
He rocks into me, hitting my clit with his strokes. “That’s it. Don’t hold anything back from me.” He splays his palm on my chest and eases me back onto the desk.
I stare up at him as he takes my thighs and spreads them wider, pushing them up and looking down as he feeds his cock into me again and again.
“Fuck. Oh my fucking hell. Just look at you. Pink and slippery, taking every inch of me. Your cunt was made for me. Only me.”
I moan and grip the edge of the desk. So many sensations are coursing through me, pleasure chief among them.
When I stare up at him, at the strain on his handsome face, at the way he watches us join together, I can barely catch my breath.
And when he licks his thumb and presses it to my clit, I cry out.
“That’s it, lass. Give me everything. I want this pretty slit to milk every bit of come from my cock.
” He strokes me faster, the ferocity of his hips growing as he pounds into me, shaking the desk and sending pleasure skittering all along my skin.
“I’ve wanted you for so long.” His voice breaks, his gaze capturing mine. “I’ve dreamed of you, lass. Only you.”
I can’t catch my breath, can’t focus on anything but the way we’re joined.
He swirls his thumb faster, bearing down just right, and I let go.
I come on a loud cry, my body releasing, pleasure rocketing through my veins and frying every nerve ending with bliss.
It rolls, a hard, thumping orgasm that curls my toes and steals my breath.
I’ve never felt this, never given myself to another person.
Hook takes me, slamming into me harder and harder as my sex squeezes him, my orgasm still falling over me in drenching waves.
I moan and arch, and he watches me, his gaze burning into me as he claims me with vicious, animalistic strokes.
It sends me higher, more waves cresting and falling as he wrings me out, taking my pleasure and giving it back to me again and again.
He surges deeper and lets out a low groan, his hands squeezing my waist as he releases inside me.
I feel his cock kicking, his body surging into mine as my orgasm matches his, our shared pleasure writ large on his face as he holds my gaze.
Every muscle taut, he grunts, shoving so deep into me that the desk scrapes along the floor.
“That’s my good lass. Take every last drop.”
I moan at his filthy talk, at the way he feeds into my desire with every look, every touch.
He yanks me to him, sealing us together, his cock embedded deeply as he finishes and my body takes what he gives.
I let go of the desk and put my hands in my hair, pull the strands close to my scalp as I’m overcome with so much sensation.
My waves begin to slow, my body awash in warmth as he sucks in a breath, his eyes wild.
When the last aftershock is gone, I can only look up at him. He’s leaning over me, his palms flat on the table, his eyes on mine.
My head is swimming with what we’ve just done, with the mind-blowing orgasm that even now echoes through me.
He reaches down and grabs the nape of my neck, pulling me to him and kissing me.
I’m limp, barely able to sit up, and I’m already a little sore between my legs.
When he pulls out, I wince.
“Are you hurt?” He stows his cock and scoops me into his arms.
“I’m all right. I can walk.”
He carries me out of the study and up the stairs. Everyone is still outside having a good, violent time, so we go unseen—though I’m certain we didn’t go unheard.
“Was it your first time?” he asks as he skips my room and carries me into his.
“You could tell?” I feel suddenly shy, which is ridiculous since he was just inside me.
“No, not really. Just a feeling.” He takes me into his bathroom and turns on the faucet to his tub.
“Yes,” I say quietly. “You’re my first.”
He kisses my crown. “Your only, lass.”
I drop my head back to look up at him. “Don’t go getting ideas.”
“Ideas?” He kisses me. “Not at all.” He talks between kisses, his mouth a wicked instrument. “I told you.” Kiss. “I take what’s mine and never let go.” Kiiiissss. “And you’re mine.” Kiss. Kiss. “You’re a pirate’s greatest treasure now, lass.” Kiss. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Kiss.
I could get used to this. For the moment, I put aside all the doubts, all the questions, all my myriad worries. I want to be his. I want to be right here in this moment, safe in James’s arms as we bask in each other.
“I suppose that means you belong to me, too?”
He smirks. “I knew you’d make a good pirate.”
“Good pirates state ownership?”
“Good pirates know what pieces to leave and which ones to collect. I have an eye for quality, lass.” He slides my dress off my shoulder again and runs his finger around my nipple, sending a tingle to my sore spots.
“Like this right here. Quality.” He leans down and runs his tongue along it, making me gasp.
“And this.” He slides his hand lower and cups my sex.
“Top quality.” Then he kisses my forehead.
“And nothing beats what’s in here, lass.
Nor in here.” He kisses my breast over my heart.
How can the devil incarnate be so sweet? I don’t know, but I don’t want it to stop.
When he lowers me to his lap to check the water temperature, I feel how hard he is.
“Wow. I thought you would need time to … to, um … recover.”
“For you?” He sets me on my feet and reaches up to pull my dress off my other shoulder.
It falls and puddles at my feet. I wear his necklace and nothing else.
I know the old me, the one who spent all her time grading papers and doing schoolwork, would try to hide.
Would cringe. Would turn fifteen shades of red.
I don’t. I only turn maybe two shades of red, and I don’t try to hide from his gaze.
He looks me up and down slowly, his eyes lingering on my sex and then higher.
When he licks his lips and runs his hands along my sides, I feel my knees go weak.
“For you I think I could fuck through a slab of granite. That’s how hard you make me.
I’d bend you over this tub until you screamed my name again. ”
He drops a kiss on my stomach, making it tremble. Then he goes lower, kissing my mound and each of my thighs, worshipping me with his mouth as he moves up again, licking the valley between my breasts and nibbling at my throat before kissing my mouth, his tongue an avid explorer.
His calloused hands rove me, and I reach for the buttons on his shirt.
He takes my hands.
“I want to see you.” I glance down. “All of you.”
A satisfied smile twitches on his lips.
I roll my eyes as he steps back and grips the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head. The now-familiar scars on him catch my eye, but when his hands go to his pants, I can’t help but stare.
He unfastens them and lowers them, his cock springing free as he steps out of them and kicks them away.
I already knew he was big, but this is verging on obscene.
Long and thick, I wonder how it managed to fit all the way inside me.
Why am I burning, already thinking about what it feels like and wanting more?
“Fuck, lass. You’re looking at it like you want me inside you again.” He steps to me and grips my hair, leaning me back. “And I want that too, but you’re sore.”
“I am.” I reach down and grab him.
His hips jerk. “Moira,” he warns. “You’re playing with fire.”
I stroke him slowly, amazed at the soft skin over the hardness beneath.
He groans and pulls my hair harder. “You’re not ready.”
“I think you’re not ready.” I stroke him faster, traveling along the full length of him.
“Fuck.” His hips buck.
I feel my power, the sway I hold over this irresistible villain, and I say the one thing I think might make him lose control. “I wonder what it tastes like.”
His eyes roll. “Lass, I told you—”
“I’m playing with fire.” I drop to my knees, his hand still in my hair.
“Lass.” His voice is gravel.
When I lick the drop of come on his tip, he barks out a curse, and when I put it in my mouth, he grabs my hair with both hands.