by Mary Wine
She suddenly felt vulnerable. So exposed to his gaze. She could feel it tracing her curves, every second felt like an hour. Her arms crept up to cover her breasts.
"Don't."
There was quiet authority in his tone. A rustle of fabric drifted across her ears before he clasped her wrists and pushed them away from her chest.
"Let me look at you, Lorena. Not because I want to see what I own, but because I want to admire you."
She shivered. Half in surprise and half in excitement. It had never crossed her mind to think he found her pretty. The idea that Warren found her attractive sent heat coursing through her belly and into her passage. She trembled with excitement but enjoyed it so much she almost cried.
He dropped something and she realized it was his pants. She hadn't seen his boots since the hot weather hit and he'd taken to wearing shoes, making it very simple for the man to strip his last article of clothing away.
She looked down. She simply could not help lowering her gaze until she found that part of his body which was so forbidden. She had felt it against her belly on the beach, craved it after dancing with him on deck.
Warren didn't give her very long to look. She glimpsed only a shadow of his length before her lover was pressing against her again. He plucked the fabric of her chemise up and drew it over her head.
She sighed. The air brushed her skin, every bit of it just as she'd longed for.
"That's why I can't ignore you, Lorena."
His voice had dipped lower, sounding almost like he didn't like being drawn to her.
"What?"
He cupped the curves of her hips, unleashing another round of need. This one nipped at her. It needled its way along her skin until it disappeared between the folds of her sex to throb.
"You crave freedom." His hands moved in slow motions. Slipping across her lower back and over the curve of each side of her bottom.
"Just as I do." He pulled her into contact with his body, the hard presence of his cock pressing against her belly. The flesh was hot and hard. The spot at the top of her sex throbbed more insistently, demanding to be stroked.
"You want to be touched. I've seen it in your eyes. Just like this." His hands traveled up her sides until he found the soft mounds of her breasts. He stepped back a half pace to allow him to cup each one.
"I saw the desire in your eyes first, Captain."
Even in the dim light, she could see his expression tighten. He leaned closer, his breath brushing her ear.
" Warren." With a harsh snarl he scooped her up, cradling her body against his harder one.
"Call me Warren, lover or any other endearment, but don't call me captain in this cabin."
Annoyance edged his words. He placed her in his bunk, the moonlight illuminating a satisfied look on his face.
"Because I swear to God, I plan to be your lover."
He joined her, his body covering half her own. All of the strength she'd noticed in him pressed down on her. Need and excitement became tangled up with apprehension. There was nothing to
shield her, nowhere to retreat if she wanted to escape. But she enjoyed the way he felt against her.
In some deep part of her brain that she'd never really noticed before, she enjoyed the feeling of his body holding hers down. It made no sense but felt incredibly good. She reached for him, her body seeking to curve and clasp his. Her thighs wanted to part, in order to cradle his hips.
A soft sound escaped her lips, but he sealed any further sounds beneath a kiss. His lips were insistent, demanding she open her mouth for the thrust of his tongue. One hand returned to her breast. Sweet delight flowed from the touch, her nipple drawing into a hard little pebble. He teased that point, rolling it between his fingers while his tongue stroked hers. His hand stroked downwards, across her ribs and over the soft skin of her belly.
She shuddered, too much delight filling her to contain it. A harsh gasp broke through their kiss, her back arching with the sheer abundance of it.
"Amazing isn't it, Lorena?" His fingers teased her belly, working in tiny circles. "Amazing that we're told to ignore our own bodies."
She didn't want to ignore it anymore. Reaching for him, she stroked his skin, mimicking the same motion. She placed a kiss against his neck and followed it with several more when he
shuddered.
If the night was cool, she didn't notice. His body was so warm, it covered her bare skin. There was so much heat burning inside her, it might have been snowing and she still would not have shivered.
Instead she writhed. His hand touched the top of her sex, gently toying with her curls. She tried to roll onto her side, to better reach his body, but he kept her on her back, his wide chest blocking her. One of his elbows was propped against the mattress by her head and one leg curled over one of hers. His hip rested alongside her own, the hard length of his cock pressing into her side.
"I've envisioned you like this for too many nights." Something edged his voice that she couldn't quite place. A hunger to posses her which hinted at dark longings.
Even that didn't frighten her. It fed the roaring need flooding her. His fingers separated the folds covering her passage, seeking the spot that throbbed with such vigour. The first touch sent her arching away from him, but the mattress prevented her from escaping. He circled the little nub and pleasure spiked up into her belly so fiercely her hips lifted toward his hand.
She gasped because she'd forgotten to draw breath. Her hands fisted in the bedding as he
continued to tease her. There was no controlling anything. Her body shivered and arched, the sensations too acute. It washed over her, covering her completely. Each teasing stroke tightened the need clawing at her until she lifted all the way off the mattress to grind against his finger.
Pleasure exploded beneath his hand when she did. It shot up into her, white hot and searing. A ragged moan tore from her lips as she was thrown by the surge of delight into a vortex of
pleasure and release. It pounded through her, racing from her belly all the way to her fingertips and toes and back down to where his finger still circled that tiny button.
She dropped back onto the bed in a heap of weak limbs which quivered on the surface of the
bunk. She gripped his stronger body to maintain some semblance of order.
Warren didn't give her time to recover. He bent over her, capturing one nipple between his lips.
She whimpered because there was no possible way to keep everything bottled up within any
longer. She felt too much, enjoyed too much. Remaining silent was impossible. She sought out the tie that kept his hair contained and tugged it off. The moonlight came in through the windows to paint the strands silver. He trailed a line of kisses up to her mouth and pressed a hard kiss against her lips.
She returned it, sighing with satisfaction when he rolled completely on top of her.
"I don't care if I'm damned as a scoundrel, I don't have the restraint to resist you, Lorena."
He covered her reply with another kiss, denying her the chance to answer him. But she really didn't want to. She was being washed away on waves of sensation again. Everything focusing on her passage and how empty she felt. He settled between her thighs, and she spread her legs to accommodate him. Never once had she imagined how good it felt to have a man pressing down
on her intimate parts. She threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging on the soft strands as need became so intense she writhed. The head of his cock slid easily between the slick folds of her sex. Nudging forward until it began to tunnel into her passage. She suddenly felt so empty she ached with it. The hard flesh was Exactly what she craved. Her hips lifted, trying to take more of him.
Warren didn't deny her. He thrust forward, his body shaking. He cupped the sides of her head, his fingers gripping her hair. Another inch and her passage burned. His flesh felt too thick, the walls of her body stretching to tight to take him. She wanted to twist away but his weight was too much to move. Without realizing
it, he'd clamped her in a hold that was impossible to evade.
A sob passed her lips. Every shred of composure was gone. She craved him, but her body ached where he was lodged inside her. Pain battled against the pleasure until she wasn't sure what she felt anymore. "Shhhh..."
Her body shuddered, hard motions that allowed another whimper to pass her lips. But her lover soothed her, placing soft kisses against her arched neck. Sweet kisses which made her sigh.
"It gets better. I swear it does."
His voice was deep and raspy, hinting that he was straining to control himself. It struck her as tender and deeply considerate of him. She relaxed against the bed. Her heart was beating so hard it thumped against her ribs, the frantic motion sending vibrations throughout her body.
She could feel his heart doing the same, beating at a tempo that was wild and untamed.
He withdrew from her body but drove back into her immediately. This time his length penetrated her deeply. Pain glowed red hot around where he was lodged inside her. It felt impossible to take, but her body surprised her by adjusting, stretching to accommodate his girth. She was suddenly able to draw breath. The pain receded until it was only a dull ache. Somehow her hands had
become curled into talons on his arms, her fingernails cutting into his skin. With a gasp she ordered her hands to release, but her fingers were slow to respond.
"Leave them." A soft kiss covered her lips. There was no space between them now and the crisp hair covering his chest teased her nipples. Her skin was so aware of his. The kiss was sweet, drawing her back into the intoxicating cloud where nothing mattered but the way his mouth
moved against hers.
"Claw me."
His voice was raspy and demanding. Her hands still locked around his biceps. She didn't want to release him. He was hard and she needed to hold on to him. He didn't wait for her to comply. The hips settled firmly between her thighs moved, withdrawing and returning to thrust his length back into her. The pain had vanished. The walls of her passage took him, delight slowly filling her.
This was what she'd craved, this stretching, fullness. A soft gasp escaped her lips when he continued to move, thrusting and withdrawing in a steady motion. Pleasure began building once more. This time she wasn't ignorant of what the tightening would lead to. Her body wanted it.
There was no hesitation, no thinking. Her hips lifted, surging toward her partner. She gripped him tighter. His breathing turned rough, the hard body above her shaking, but so was her own.
She did claw him. Her fingernails biting into his skin when everything exploded around the hard flesh filling her. A harsh cry bounced off the walls of the cabin, but she wasn't sure whose it was.
Warren surged forward, burying his cock deeply. His entire body pressed her into the mattress.
For a long moment, her body was pulled taut, pleasure burning along every inch. It raced up from her belly, along her spine and into her brain. She strained toward her partner, determined to take his length completely.
Warren didn't disappoint her. He ground himself deeply between her thighs, the hands in her hair tightening until little nips of pain crossed her scalp. But they only enhanced the moment, adding to the overwhelming delight. Warren shuddered, his body straining against hers, every muscle corded. A hot stream filled her passage, sending another shiver up her spine. It pushed her over the edge of reason and into a world of pure sensation. She was grateful for the bed because they both lay on it while gasping for breath. Every muscle quivered but Warren was solid enough to cling to.
Lorena lost track of time. But she didn't worry about it. She drifted on waves of contentment.
Gentle hands smoothed over her, along her shoulder and the curve of her hip. It was tender and so secure she snuggled against it. Her fingers wandered over the crisp hair that covered his chest.
Little things that somehow drew her into a deeper sense of security than she recalled ever feeling.
It was too perfect to be real, but for the moment she simply enjoyed it without question.
He didn't deserve it.
Warren watched Lorena like a starving man sitting at a feast. She sighed before relaxing into sleep. He draped her body over his, grateful for once that his bunk was so narrow. He didn't want her to have any place to go. Never once had he considered that just lying with a woman might be more pleasurable than riding one. Tonight he was happy to be shown the error of his thinking.
His lips curved up. The moonlight illuminated Lorena's skin. But the raw scratches on his arms drew his attention more. He didn't need to see the stains on the sheets. She'd been a virgin, chaste and untouched. A ripple of emotion went through him that humbled him. It was a good thing he was lying on his back because it just might have buckled his knees if he were standing. Unlike the girls chasing him back in Boston, Lorena hadn't bargained for anything in exchange for her innocence. No carefully laid flirtation to get him to the altar. There had only been sweet response.
So sweet that he lay awake long after she'd fallen asleep. He didn't want to close his eyes, didn't want to stop stroking her. It seemed priceless, the way she lay against him. He wanted to savor it, try to understand it. The soft sound of her breathing was more soothing than rain. The soft beating of her heart against his side a pleasure he decided he liked enough to lose sleep for.
It was by far the tenderest experience of his life. He'd gladly shoulder whatever guilt showed up with the sun, because it was a cruel twist of fate that had kept him ignorant until now. Lorena wasn't the most beautiful woman to share his bed, but she was by far more perfect in every detail.
The way she smelled, the way she lay against his chest. Every touch had lacked practice and he suddenly noticed how much he preferred innocent desire to his bed partners who'd sought him out because they were bored.
When his eyes drifted shut, the only thought remaining was that tomorrow he would find a way to get her to choose him.
Chapter Ten
The ship was silent again.
Lorena awoke with a start. Unsure what had disturbed her slumber, she noticed the eerie quiet.
Wind whipped in the open windows telling her it wasn't another hot spell.
But something was not right. She felt it.
It was barely dawn and the spot beside her was empty. But the covers were tucked around her once again. When she sat up, they fell, allowing the morning air to brush across her bare breasts.
Never before had she slept nude. She should have been shocked, but it was so freeing that she smiled instead. The air moved over her skin, cooling her just enough to make her shiver. A
decadent delight that once sampled she didn't think she could forego.
But the silence pushed her out of the bunk. An achy pain shot through her passage, bringing shock to her at last. One hand stroked over her lower belly. She refused to regret her actions. In fact, there was a part of her that was happy she'd chosen who to give her innocence to. Godford and Mordaunt were so bent on telling her who her virginity belonged to, but they were incorrect.
It was her choice and she refused to lament it.
Her dress and petticoat were laid out over a chair top. Her knickers had slid under the table, forcing her to crawl beneath its polished surface. The morning air brushed right up her thighs, startling her when it hit her tender folds. She should have been finished with her fascination.
Now that surrender had come and gone, the need should be vanquished.
But it wasn't.
With a grumpy huff, she snagged her knickers and stood. She struggled into the undergarment and reached for her petticoat. Why was it ever a woman's lot to be at the mercy of men? Not only was she sailing for America because of her stepfather's decision and Mordaunt's harsh character, now she was caught quite neatly in the net of her own emotions for Warren Rawlins.
She shook her head. Warren was nothing like the others. Regret did not arrive as she thought it might. Plenty of people would tell her it should be darkening her mor
ning, but it wasn't. She was content with her choice. Actually more than content. A bubble of happiness was lodged in her chest. All of the uncertainty which lay ahead didn't seem able to touch it.
A rap sounded on the cabin door. Kurt pushed it inward before the sound stopped.
"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but we're headed for trouble. Best for you to get down under the table and wait it out."
"Are we bracing for attack?" The word attack got stuck halfway across her tongue because even though she knew the word, such things simply did not happen. Except out on the ocean.
Kurt's face tightened. "We spotted two men-of-war off the stern. 'Tis a sure bet we'll be facing cannon fire." He didn't stumble over his words. There was a grim acceptance on his face that sent her heart beating faster.
"Yes, of course."
Men-of-war...
Kurt was gone the moment he finished talking. Lorena turned and climbed into the window seat to peer out the windows. Two ships trailed the Huntress and her crippled companion. With full canvas, they were eating up the distance between them. Both ships clearly displayed the Union Jack. But the lead ship also flew a Bermuda colony one.
The breath froze in her throat. Fear clogged her veins, but it was fear for the crew manning the Huntress. Below her, dozens of them were likely muttering prayers while attempting to remain at their stations. They would stay there too, because they were all endowed with courage.
Just as their captain was.
Warren would stand on that command deck in spite of the danger. He had placed the Huntress in peril to keep his brother's ship from becoming easy prey. The memory of the shattered main mast on the Golden Dawn choked her with the horrifying possibility that the Huntress might suffer the same fate or worse.
Well, not if she had any say in the matter.
Grabbing her bonnet, she placed the thing on her head for the first time since leaving Bermuda.
She was a British woman and she would not stand by idle while her countrymen committed
atrocities. If that was their intention, she would allow them to see the innocent who would suffer along with the sailors manning the cannons. She would stand right out on deck and make sure every man claiming to be British knew who he was firing upon.
