by Tamara Gill
As he removed his mouth from her, he savored her taste, but wished his cock was buried deep inside her writhing body. He wiped his lips on a sleeve. Damn she’d been responsive, as if his touch were the magical key that unlocked her soul. His heart squeezed. He’d brought her to bliss. That was something no other man could claim. Adrian unhooked her knees from his shoulders and stood, staring down at her. Hair mussed, her eyes softly focused and her lips curved in a bemused smile, she looked like a beautiful angel. His chest swelled with pride.
“That was… I never thought I could know anything like that.” Sarah stretched with fluid grace. “I felt as though I was flying.”
“Glad to hear it.” Wanting to share the moment, he rolled her onto her stomach.
“Adrian? Surely you cannot expect me to,” she glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes wide but reflecting fatigue and anticipation, “to have relations after what you just did to me?”
“I can, and I will. You forget, I haven’t yet spent. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, but—”
“I won’t hurt you. I promise.” With more haste than finesse he shoved up her skirting. Unable to deny the urge, he delivered a light slap to her perfect buttocks. Sarah squeaked. Adrian stepped away long enough to work the buttons of his breeches and yank them down. His cock twitched, ached to feel her warmth. He moved to stand behind her. “This will be much faster than our last joining.” Not to mention she’d receive more stimulation this way, as would he.
Excitement built in his belly at showing her something new. “Spread your legs.”
When she did as he asked, he positioned the head of his cock at her entrance and coated it in her wetness. Then Adrian slid into her channel, and his moan blended with hers. Hot, slick and tight, her flesh closed around his shaft, snug, as if she hoped to keep him there. “Rock backward, love. Push against me each time I thrust.” He held her hips, gripping them hard enough he wondered if he’d leave marks.
Didn’t matter. They’d be his marks on his woman.
His first thrust happened with more force than he’d intended. Sarah cried out, but she pushed back, her fingers bunching in the quilt. Adrian’s next stroke was just as intense. He couldn’t help it. The need to join with her was too great. His stones tingled. His cock pulsed. Sweat plastered the shirt to his back as his breathing turned ragged and labored.
Yes, she was heaven to his hell.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on postponing the inevitable. After snaking a hand around her hip, he slid his fingers through her curls and found her nubbin. He rubbed the tiny button. Circled it. Plucked it. He willed that she’d hit her peak before release claimed him. God, he wanted to hear her come again and to feel her shudder around him, to know he’d given her the ultimate pleasure.
On his next shove, he watched his member disappear into her wet passage and her arse slam against his groin. She shifted her hips. Her muscles clenched as she cried out. His name on her lips, mired in wonder and ecstasy, coupled with her convulsing passage milking him, sent him over the dark edge into his own bliss. As his cock throbbed and emptied its seed, Adrian sagged on top of her, winded and spent. Seconds passed, filled only with their breathing. When she stirred, he withdrew and straightened, pulling up his breeches then working the buttons.
“I trust that was to my lady’s satisfaction?” He wiped a sleeve across his sweaty face. “Sarah?”
She turned over and stood, albeit a bit wobbly. “That was beyond incredible.” Her eyes glittered with tears. “Twice in one day.” She closed the slight distance between them. “I think I shall keep you around and find out what other magic you can invoke.”
“I’m happy to oblige.” The warmth filtering through his body had nothing to do with physical pleasure, but he refused to analyze why he enjoyed it. “Glad you approve.” When she stood on tiptoe and kissed his lips, the gesture nearly became his undoing. She’d done it of her own accord without prompting.
Sarah returned to the bed, this time lounging against the pillows. Her expression spoke of supreme contentment. “You owe me the story of how you came to be a pirate.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “And if I don’t tell it?” Never had a woman been more at ease in his presence. Internally, he reeled that he’d made her feel thusly.
“You won’t have another sexual encounter with me.” The first genuine smile he’d seen since he took her aboard parted her lips. It had the power to make him forget how to breathe.
“Touché.” Dear Lord, how could he have thought leaving her on the island would have been a good idea? He dropped into one of the chairs at the round table then tipped it back on two legs and planted his booted feet on the tabletop. “I’ll say it again; I’m a terrible influence on you.”
“No, you shoved me out of my narrow-minded world and into a huge, much more interesting one.” She curled onto her side with a pillow hugged to her chest. “Start talking, Captain.”
If he wasn’t careful, he’d start enjoying being bossed by her. “I am a third son, the tag-along of the heir and the spare to the Westerbrooke fortune. My family owns holdings in Surrey, England as well as other smaller properties throughout Britain and a townhouse in London. Since no one in my family expected much of me, I pretty much grew up doing exactly what I pleased.”
“Which is different than the present how?”
“Aren’t you full of boldness?” He rubbed a hand along his jaw and scratched at the stubble. “I spent most of my time in London, running with other young bucks. Drinking, gambling and whoring were my vices of choice. On the evening of my twenty-fifth birthday, I’d gotten deep in my cups and passed out halfway between one of the clubs and my family’s townhouse.”
She said nothing, only continued to stare at him with half-closed eyes.
“When I woke, it was in the hold of a ship, and we were at sea.”
Sarah sat up, fully alert. “A navy vessel?”
“Not exactly.” He brought his feet down, as well as the chair, with a crash. “It was a privateering ship. The captain had received his Act of Pardon from the Crown. At that time, England was very concerned with the newly-independent American colonies. Another war seemed imminent. His orders were to interrupt supply lines and merchant vessels in waters between Britain and America. All for a hefty fee, of course.”
“Basically, you were pressed into service.”
“Yes, and had to work my way up from the menial position of a deck swabber.” He stood and paced the small space between the table and the bureau.
“Ah, and that is why you expect everyone on your ship to follow that harsh work ethic. You learned it while under your pirate captain and are passing it on.” She wore the same smug grin she had after intercourse. “It’s not a bad idea.”
“After a while I found favor in the system. Hard work equaled reward. Each one brought a promotion and a bit of coin.” He rested his arms on the bureau and stared at the wall. “As you said of your experience, on that ship I learned a different way of life, but I never forgot how I came to be there in the first place.”
“Did one of your friends put you on that ship for a lark?”
“No. Actually, it was my brothers. I guess I’d embarrassed them enough with my reckless behavior and had cost the family too much money and reputation.” Bitterness seeped into his voice and tightened his chest. “What was another large sum if it was to pay someone to take me off their hands permanently?”
“How do you know that as a certainty? Have you been in touch with them since?”
“No.” The bedclothes rustled. Seconds later, the soft tread of her slippers on the decking sounded. He felt the heat of her body behind him, yet he refused to turn around. He had to tell her the rest. “The Westerbrookes wouldn’t set foot on such a ship, but they did me the favor of tucking a note in my pocket.” The remembered humiliation and rage he’d felt at finding the note came rushing back. “It said they hoped I enjoyed my new life, that maybe it would teach me discipline and self
-control. Only then could I earn their respect.”
“That must have been the final blow.” Sarah slid her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his back. “I believe cold attitudes of family stings more than words from strangers.”
“Yes.” His throat clogged with emotion he refused to name. Instead, he stood still, afraid to move and break the moment. Never had anyone offered him their emotional support. “I vowed that morning on deck that never again would I depend on my family for anything—not money, not connections, not introductions. I made a vow. I’d work hard to make something of myself on my own merit, build a name they wouldn’t forget in the hopes…”
Her breath warmed his back through the shirt. “Yes?”
“I wanted them to notice me, and eventually invite me back to Westerbrooke Hall, properly contrite. It was all for naught. Years passed with no word, not even when the ship docked in England and my captain reported before King George.” He gently detached himself from Sarah’s hold and turned to face her. “My family either didn’t notice or didn’t care if they did.”
“I assume you didn’t visit them?” Compassion softened her expression.
“Why should I? Obviously there would be no welcome.”
“It’s hard being alone in the world even though your family is very much alive and well but consumed with their own lives.” She reached out a hand to touch his chest but pulled it back as if unsure of her welcome. “You learn to live with being ignored, yet the yearning for their praise never quite goes away.”
“No, it does not. Even now I think I want their respect, but I swing the other way and promise myself I won’t care anymore.” When she returned to the bed and sat on the edge, he sighed. He should have embraced her for nothing more than feeling her arms around him. “Three years after I arrived on the privateer ship, my captain perished in a battle with a pirate under Spain’s protection. I was next in line for the promotion, and since none of the crew objected, I assumed my first command.”
“Did you captain the Lady Catherine at that time?”
“No, but the next year I did. My crew and I stole this ship right out of port one night in Barbados. We tossed its crew and replaced them with mine.” He smiled at the remembrance of his first big act as the new captain. “Once we gained the safety of the Louisiana Territory’s shores, we rechristened the ship after my mother.”
A smile parted her lips. “You made short work of your seven years at sea, if your reputation is any indication.”
“Yes, but at what cost? Relationships, a traditional life, perhaps a respectable life with a wife and children? You’ve been on the receiving end of my temper. You know I’m a hard man. Perhaps those things aren’t for me, and piracy is no place for being domestic. It’s becoming difficult enough encouraging you to stay.” He stopped short of pleading. If she chose to remain with him, she would. His story wouldn’t make the difference. No longer would he force her. He admired her independent spirit too much to inflict his will upon her. Unless she made a fool out of him in front of his crew, then punishment would be swift regardless of his feelings for her.
Still, the yearning to belong pricked at his heart like an irritating splinter. He’d made his choice long ago. Being alone was part of it.
“Would you like to know what I think?” She rose to her feet and closed the distance between them once more.
“If I said no, you’d tell me anyway. You are not very adept at following orders.”
“Consider that if you led a staid type of life with a wife and children, you wouldn’t be here. You’d be fat and pale, living out your days in the rainy English countryside, attending an endless stream of parties and routs. Perhaps you’d take a seat in Parliament while wondering why you hate being in polluted London or why your children are terrors. Is that what you want?”
“Not exactly.” His lips twitched. She had quite a way of explaining things.
“At least this way, you’re doing what you love.” She cocked a dark eyebrow. “Perhaps you need to consider that this crew is your new family and all the friendly relationships you need. It’s plain as day you enjoy your life. I have seen you in action. You hold command well. Why let someone else’s views of normalcy affect your perception of yourself?”
“Respect is almost as important as a man’s reputation. It’s vital for me to keep both. Lives depend on me.”
“You have both. If you doubt this, you have only to look as far as your crew. If you continue to chase the esteem from people who don’t matter—though they are related by blood—you’ll never find peace. I did it for years. Now they are dead and I never found peace by them. I’ll carry the guilt and regret for as long as I live.”
Though her words had a certain truth, putting them into practice after so many years of bitterness seemed like too great a challenge. “You had your reasons. You shouldn’t feel anything except vindication for your freedom.”
“True, yet I do not.”
“You don’t want revenge against pirates any longer?” Would he need to constantly be wary around her?
“I said I don’t, and I mean every word.” Sarah narrowed her eyes. “Watching you, I have realized piracy is a career, a way of life. Being a pirate means at times, there will be murder committed and crimes done. However,” she stared at him, her expression closed, “I cannot escape the fact that my beliefs are at odds with everything being a pirate entails. I also cannot forget I’ve killed men. It’s the cold truth. That is my cross to bear, but it doesn’t mean I won’t stop praying for forgiveness or hoping for better results.”
“That is your choice as well.”
“It is. I hope you realize my opinions aren’t wrong just as I agree your choice of employment isn’t wrong. It merely means we are different, but different doesn’t mean bad.”
This time the relief he felt wasn’t as large or as freeing as before. “Thank you. I appreciate the honesty of your sentiment.”
She nodded. “I hope you don’t find fault with me for my views.”
“Never. It’s a refreshing change to have one person who doesn’t agree with me on every little point. Why should I find fault when you’re willing to accept me for mine?” He shoved a hand through his hair. Sometime during their frantic lovemaking, he’d lost the leather tie. “By the by, where did you learn to throw a dagger?” Spending the next several years learning her secrets and stories sounded like heaven. It didn’t matter she hadn’t granted him more than a few weeks. He could be very persuasive when he wanted.
She shrugged. A blush stole over her cheeks. “In boarding school. Free time wasn’t exactly what everyone thinks it is.”
“It would seem my perception of you has been slightly askew.” He shook his head in wonder. Oh, they would have great fun together. He hoped she understood the ramifications of such a decision. “Sarah, in all honesty, choosing to remain onboard means you might need to kill again. Piracy is a harsh life and privateering is oftentimes dangerous business. You cannot escape it.”
“I refuse to borrow trouble.” The corners of her mouth lifted. “For the moment, I’m choosing to embrace life on the Lady Catherine and see where it leads.”
He answered her grin with one of his own. She was like no female he’d ever known. “Perhaps you’ll convince me I’ll receive God’s blessings yet, Miss Covington.” He folded her into his arms, enjoying the simple act of holding a woman without needing to couple with her. In Sarah he had a chance of redemption. In her, salvation seemed closer than it had ever been if only he could pledge to do a random act of kindness each day. For her he wanted to be a better man—within reason.
“That remains to be seen, Captain Westerbrooke.”
“Then you are committed to working alongside the crew?” He kept his voice neutral, not allowing hope to filter into his tone.
She pulled back enough to capture his gaze. “I will remain with you until we make port in the Caribbean. After that I cannot promise anything. I need more time to adjust and decide o
n my place in the world, and if I can fit into yours.”
It was more than what he had an hour ago. “I shall do my best to convince you.”
“Of that I have no doubt.” Questions clouded her eyes. “One last thing.”
“Yes?” His gut clenched. What else could she possibly have to say?
“You cannot help but notice piracy—privateering—is dying. What do you plan to do once it’s not feasible for you to be a pirate any longer?”
“My dear, for a woman who refuses to borrow trouble, you’re on the verge of taking out a hefty loan.” He stroked his fingers down the side of her face. “No doubt I’ll figure something out.” He held property on one of the smaller islands in the Caribbean as well as a sizable plantation in Virginia. The incomes from both would keep him comfortably for many years. “Luck has always been with me. I’m not worried.” Though he would miss his ship and the freedom the seas afforded. Perhaps waving fields of tobacco plants would put him in mind of the ocean waves. Only time would tell.
“I see.”
He chuckled that he’d ruffled her dander by not sharing. “Will you respect me if I lose my title of Captain?” Could he enjoy a landlubber future without her in it?
“You’ll always be Captain.”
“Sarah, no teasing.”
“You have gone a long way to earning my respect already. Why would you think anything else you do would be less?”
That was all he needed for the moment. Settling her into his arms, he claimed her lips in a tender kiss. How long would their fragile balance of peace last, and why did he want it for longer than a voyage?
Chapter Eight
Somewhere in the Caribbean Sea, January 2nd, 1815
Sarah glanced over and checked Doctor Anderson’s handiwork. The patient they both toiled over had been involved in an accident on the gun deck. He’d run into another sailor and gotten clipped over the left eyebrow with the corner of a crate. The resulting gash required stitches. “You’re doing a marvelous job, Doctor. Remember, smaller even stitches will result in a smoother seam and less jagged scarring.” She nodded as he guided the needle’s sharp point through the inner edges of the wound and tugged at the string. “Yes, exactly. Impressive.” Stitching up a man wasn’t all that different than embroidery work.
