Her legs parted for him as he lay down on top of her. He’d stripped his breeches off as she watched and joined her on the bed. They were both completely without barriers now. She felt the hardness of him at the apex of her thighs as he kissed her. Her whole body was tense with sensation and anticipation, and she strove for more. She loved the warmth of him along her chest and stomach as they lay together.
“Please, James,” she repeated. She needed to know the rest, needed him to join with her.
He moved away slightly and she felt pressure of him at her entrance. She felt a moment of fear, but it relented when she looked up into his eyes. He pushed inside until there was pain. It shot through her sharply, making her gasp. He stopped, bringing his hand up to her face as he hushed her soothingly. His eyes drew her back from the pain as he pushed further inside her. She felt the fullness of him inside of her, making her forget the pain.
He kissed her again, deeply. Then he pulled back and pushed into her again. Gemma gasped with the flood of sensations that filled her body and mind. The sense of fullness returned as he sunk into her completely. As he did it again and Gemma couldn’t quite keep track of the sensations it wrought in her.
“Gemma,” he moaned as he brought his hands down, cupping her backside closer to him as he pushed inside her yet again. Gemma couldn’t escape the intense sensations, she felt herself arching her back to bring him closer. Seemingly taking its own directions, her body knew instinctively what it wanted to do. She almost felt trapped by the sensation, it wouldn’t relent and it held her prisoner in its intensity.
He pushed into her again and again, quickly. She wanted more; she wanted all of him in that moment. Seeking out his hips, she drew him closer when the sensations reached a new level, a crescendo that crashed over her, pulling her apart. She had to grit her teeth with the power of it as it rippled through her. She didn’t know what it was; it had her captured, then it tore into her with force she thought would destroy her. Disbelieving that she’d come through unscathed, she wanted to experience it again.
Feeling him shudder with the intensity as well, she welcomed him as he collapsed down on her. His ragged breath matched hers. There was not enough air in the world for what her lungs needed.
“I would steal you a thousand times,” he said through his breaths, slowly rolling off her, still breathing heavily. His hand sought out her hip and rested there as his breathing calmed. Gemma noticed the moment he fell asleep; she knew the rhythms of his breathing and could hear as sleep claimed him quickly and ruthlessly.
Turning to her side, she watched him. Her body was still singing with sensations, but she felt lulled and appeased. Slight soreness returned as the sensations settled somewhat, but it wasn’t soreness she lamented, she almost wanted it. It was a reminder of the beautiful thing they’d just done. It had been a revelation, one she still couldn’t quite get her head around, but she knew she could spend the rest of her life doing that.
Watching the pulse point of his neck, she noted his breathing was slower and more constant now—the pulse point showing the steady beat of his heart. He was beautiful—what they’d just done was beautiful. She’d never felt so alive as she did in that moment.
She felt herself grow sleepy even as she wanted to stay awake and just watch him. She considered covering herself, but instead chose to move closer to his warmth as she let her eyes drift shut.
Chapter 18
Gemma woke up disbelieving her own memories. She’d given herself last night, to the man lying next to her. Her head ached somewhat, but that was nothing compared to the shocked realisation of what she’d done.
It had seemed like a natural course at the time. She still couldn’t quite believe it; it felt surreal, but she had the memories as proof. She couldn’t argue that it had been enjoyable—a revelation in fact, but that neither excused nor explained her own actions. She’d forfeited her dowry for heaven’s sake. She felt the bitter disappointment in herself set in. How could she have been so stupid?
She knew how as she looked over at the sleeping form of the man next to her, feeling her body quicken at the sight of him; his bare torso and the long arms curving with muscles and smooth skin. He’d seduced her and she’d fallen for it. She was still under the effects of it; it gripped her deep in her belly, urging her to keep looking.
Quietly stepping out of bed, she dressed in complete silence. She had to put distance between herself and the act they’d engaged it. She had to put up barriers to him; she tried to think how as she sat down at the table and waited for him to wake. She didn’t know what to do, no matter how she turned it over in her head, her confusion wouldn’t give. The previous night had been absolutely wonderful, it had been the answer to an earnest wish she hadn’t quite known she’d had. But it was also forbidden and she’d given herself over to temptation.
He woke slowly, shifted around in the bed. There was a part of her that wanted to rip her dress off and experience lying with him again. She closed her eyes and steadied herself. When she opened them again, he was watching her from the bed as he lay with the palm of his hand supporting his head.
“See now, I don’t like that look,” he said.
Ignoring him, she looked away.
“You look positively matronly,” he continued. “Regrets, Miss Montague?”
Getting up abruptly, she moved to the window where she watched the light from the water play on the glass.
“Rum can be positively...beastly,” he said almost a little effeminately, like he was telling her the thoughts she should have in her head.
“Are you ridiculing me?”
He was silent for a moment. “Why would I do that when I desperately want you back in this bed?”
Closing her eyes, she admitted the proposition was more tempting than she’d like to admit. All closing her eyes did was allow her to remember the kisses that had been her undoing—the deep, exploring kisses that melted her insides and her sense.
She supposed he felt like he’d won their bet. He had won their bet. But then he was a pirate and he’d used underhanded means in getting her here, and in extracting the bet in the first place. She didn’t technically have to honor it. She let her nail travel along a groove in the wood of the window. “You found a weakness and you exploited it,” she said.
He didn’t argue, which surprised her. She expected him to argue—to lie.
“Exploited,” he said. “Harsh words for such a beautiful act, wouldn’t you say?—one you enjoyed, immensely.” Gemma heard him move, but he didn’t get out of the bed. “If you come back, I can show you things that will have you exploring heights you wouldn’t believe possible,” his voiced drawled.
He’d already done that, she thought bitterly. Gemma had to press her lips together and try to think of something else. She let her fingers clasp onto the wood of the window they were absent-mindedly exploring, in case some weak impulse in her gave in to his suggestion. His words couldn’t help but pique her curiosity. He’d indicated that there was more to know, further heights to experience. She wasn’t sure she could handle more—what she’d already experienced was quite enough.
“Come, Miss Montague, why not finish what we’ve started? Why are you angry?”
“Why am I angry?” she repeated letting her anger flare. “You’ve robbed me of my virginity and of a thousand pounds.”
“Well, I can’t do anything about your virginity—you did give that to me. I didn’t take it. As for the thousand pounds, I may be willing to forgo it if you come back to bed,” he said and patted the mattress beside him.
Gemma’s brow creased. “I’m not a whore. I am not going to sleep with you for money!” She would actually pay him the thousand pounds to prove that point. “I think you’ve done quite enough damage, Mr. Mallory.” Gemma returned his insistence of formality—not that she would be comfortable with informality at this point. “I did my part,” she said clearing her throat, “I performed—in the tavern—as you required me to. You are to return me to m
y home now.” Tears stung the back of her eyes with her own disappointment in herself and the awkwardness of this whole situation.
Hearing him move out of bed, she felt a sense of panic as he moved toward her. She could see out of the side of her vision that he wore nothing at all. He came up behind her and put his arms around her.
“Now, let’s be friends, Miss Montague. I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just pointing out that we could continue the exploration we’ve started. I could show you the world.” Gemma remained stiff even as there was something in her that wanted to melt into his embrace. “There is no shame in what we did; it is the most fundamental celebration of the beauty of humanity.” He didn’t sound like he was mocking her, he sounded earnest. “And anyone who says otherwise is in some way twisted and disturbed.”
They stayed as they were for a while before he finally let her go and went to dress. “Come,” he said. “Let me show you the island in the daytime. It’s a beautiful place—one you might be glad to have seen, looking back. Not everyone can lay claim to seeing a pirate haven in person, let alone being guided around one by one of its more illustrious members.”
Gemma nodded ignoring the blatant statement of self-importance. She felt like she had cleared a hurdle.
“I must see to the ship and the provisions first, but then we shall walk through the town. We can even explore some of the plantations, if you wish.”
Gemma squinted as her eyes were assaulted with the bright sun as they left the cabin. The boat was tied up and the men didn’t look occupied. Gemma stayed down on deck while James went up to the quarterdeck to speak to one of his men. She was within sight and she felt safe—one of the fundamental problems of her situation, she felt safe with him watching over her. None of his men would do anything to her in his sight, so she could relax knowing he was keeping an eye on her.
Looking over the barrier down into the clear green water beneath the jetty, she could see fish and crustaceans underneath the walkway of the port. The ripples of the water made moving patterns all over the seabed. She knew it must be deep, but the water was so clear it was impossible to judge how far down it was to the seabed. James joined her before long and they crossed the thick plank that rested between the jetty and the ship.
“First,” he said and pointed her toward the town. “I need to buy some tobacco.”
Walking into town, Gemma remembered the walk back the previous night—how she couldn’t wait for them to get back to the cabin, and the drugging feeling of his hand on her back. She felt a thrill run through her at the thought, followed by her own dismay.
The town looked different in the bright morning light. The colors were a little more noticeable and the few buildings painted white stood out.
“Do you think you’ll always live in the Caribbean?” she asked.
“Where else is there? The sun, the warmth and the water. This place is paradise.”
Nodding, Gemma absorbed the information. She couldn’t imagine living here. She’d lived in Port Royal, but it was a proper town and it was for a set duration. It had felt more like extended visit than a place they lived. Then again, she couldn’t say for certainty where she would live as she’d live where her husband wanted her to.
She looked over at him. His sun bronzed skin looked like it belonged here. “Where are you from?”
“Ireland.”
“You’re Irish?” she said with surprise. “You don’t sound it.” It was not an answer she’d expected. She hadn’t really known what to expect, but it hadn’t been Ireland.
“No, I don’t. Wait here,” he said as he stepped into a general merchant’s store.
Gemma stepped across the road to a stall selling women’s things. Some of the things were clearly too expensive for a place like this and Gemma realized that these things were some of the loot from pirating activities. The woman manning the stall was older with a missing front tooth. She had brown hair streaked with grey, which was tied back in an attempt at respectability “Selling on behalf of the girls, you know,” the woman said with an apologetic smile. She was obviously beyond the point where the men would be bringing her back trinkets in exchange for her affections. Gemma wondered what kind of life she had here, alone and lost in this place, far away from home and whatever family she’d once had.
Looking down at the things on the table, Gemma knew this was payment—payment that the women here had received from the men who came to the island. Gemma pulled her hand back slightly; she didn’t want to deal with the underlying messiness of this place, or the implications of the things she’d done the previous evening.
“You alright, Miss?” the woman asked with a look of concern. “You look a bit piqued, like you’d seen a ghost.”
Gemma didn’t know what to say. There was so much going on in her head and she had no answers for all the questions she had.
“I gave my virginity to a pirate,” she finally admitted. She didn’t know why—she just needed to acknowledge it even if she didn’t understand what it meant. She knew that it may not be something she would ever admit to again.
The woman smiled. “Didn’t we all, love,” she said with a hearty laugh.
Gemma turned away in an attempt to stop herself from breaking down and crying. This was the future she tempted herself with by dallying with a pirate.
Chapter 19
They rode out with a horse and buggy across the small uneven dirt roads of the islands. The roads were passable, but not a smooth ride as they ran between the fields at the higher elevations of the island. The water down by the coastline sparkled in the bright midday sun.
Jack noticed the curiosity in Gemma as she surveyed the land, even though she’d been consistently withdrawn all day. He understood that she needed time to deal with what had happened between them. She’d come around—a passionate nature like hers couldn’t be withdrawn for too long. He wouldn’t let her in any case. He was happy to let her deal with her misgivings over the last day for now.
“They mostly grow sugar here,” he said. “They get a fairly good harvest—sell it back to Europe. Sometimes hurricanes come through and wipe out the entire crop, but other than that, these lands are productive.”
She still didn’t say anything and it was growing wearisome for him. He pulled over to a shady spot and jumped out of the buggy. “Cook has prepared a meal for us.”
“Are we having a picnic?” she finally asked.
“We are eating.”
“How very genteel of you.”
“I can manage if I absolutely must.”
They sat down on the ground and Jack pulled out the muslin satchel containing ham, cheese and bread. They had a good view of the ocean and the small boats anchored along the bay. Gemma sat with her legs tucked under her dress, her hair swaying slightly with the warm breeze.
“Why not give up your villainous profession and farm sugar?” she asked after a while.
“This may be the New World, but the old order is as entrenched here as it is in Europe. It’s the same land-owning class that own these farms. Everyone who works here are indentured servants—slaves. The land is taken and if there was any to spare, they wouldn’t give it to someone like me.”
“I thought people came here for the opportunity.”
“They do, but most will never grow rich here—not unless you’re willing to take on a more colorful occupation. They tolerate us here provided we leave their ships alone, but they will never welcome us.”
“And that is your aim, to grow rich?”
“Of course.”
“And then what?”
He didn’t answer; he didn’t have an answer. It was a question he’d grappled with himself. He couldn’t quite imagine himself doing anything else and there was nothing that particularly called as an alternative. He certainly didn’t want to retire down in a pirate haven like some did to drink himself to death, but he couldn’t see any other place for himself either. His thoughts had always led him to the inevitable conclusion. “I am a pi
rate and that is what I will be.”
Raising his hand, he stroked the back of his finger down her cheek, noticing how she tensed when he touched her. He didn’t let it deter him and he ran his fingers along the material covering her shoulder, wishing she was more comfortable in his presence. But this was a step she had to move through, he knew, and he would not press through it too soon.
“How shall I get back to England?” she asked.
“Are you in a hurry to get back to the fog, rain and cold?” he said with a hint of derision to the far off lands that had been his home once upon a time.
“Yes, that is where I live; where my life is.”
He knew that there was a strong possibility that her family would have kept her absence quiet, assuming she’d eloped or stolen away with a lover. They would have kept this quiet in a hope of remedying whatever irrational act she’d committed before real damage was done to her character. Likely they would have told everyone that she was visiting somewhere while they searched for her and her lover—or abductor. Being able to repair her character was more important to her family than any thoughts of justice. She could likely just walk back into London, slip in through the back door and resume her life. The thought made him uncomfortable and angry, like this whole affair could just be forgotten—swept under the carpet to never be mentioned.
He knew he could secure her passage back fairly easily. He could sail over to Port Royal, or even a French Port and purchase passage for her on one of the regular ships conveying goods between the Caribbean and England. He could sail her over in a day or two, send her off with some coin and never see her again. He wasn’t quite ready though, and he wasn’t altogether able to sort out why. Perhaps he wasn’t quite done with the sweetness of her body and the little moans she made when he pushed into her. He wasn’t quite ready to be alone again.
“We’ll be a few more days before we can move on from here,” he said after a while. It was a lie, but he wasn’t willing to sail just yet. He wasn’t ready to think of anything beyond how this coming night would unfold. No, tonight he had every intention of breaking down that icy reserve and showing Miss Montague her true nature.
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