The dark desire in his gaze provided an answer more powerful than words. Her captor had become a hungry male animal, ravenous and uncivilized, once more. Cathy ran her tongue over her upper lip, the potent combination of apprehension and anticipation stirring butterflies in her belly. She shivered as his fingertips swept over her, making short work of the ribbons that held her chemise over her breasts. Baring her to his eyes, he traced tiny circles around her nipples, commanding a response with his gentleness. She was his to pleasure.
I am his captive. There is no choice but to submit. She gulped a breath. Lie to yourself, Cathy. If you were on the garden patio of Papa’s home, you would offer yourself to him, just as you are now. She craved his possession, no more able to resist him than to cease her breaths.
“I want you to touch me.” His harsh murmur was tinged with need.
She was mesmerized by the darkness in his gaze. “What… What do you want me to do?”
Jason captured her hand, grazing her fingers over his face. Growing very still, he allowed her to run her fingertips over the beginnings of the black beard shading his jaw. His classical features were nearly flawless, marred only by a thin scar on his left cheek that only enhanced his dangerous appeal.
“Remove my shirt,” he said, the words a raw whisper.
Her hunger filled her with a budding ache. Her hands trembled slightly as they moved to unfasten the buttons of his shirt and spread the fabric over his chest. Her gaze traveled over the breadth of his muscular chest and flat, rippled abdomen. Cathy eased the fabric over his shoulders, then gently tugged the sleeves along the length of his long, sinewy arms.
She traced a path through the dark curls that covered his chest, savoring the unyielding hardness of his body as she made her way to the tapered line of hair that led into his trousers.
His sharply indrawn breath was the only hint of his reaction. Unsure if she had displeased him, she hesitated.
“Have you ever touched a man?” His husky voice sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through her.
“Not like this.” Would her lack of skill displease him?
“Do you like it, love?”
She shook her head, averting her eyes as if that would hide her primal response.
“Liar,” he teased, surprising her with the amusement in his tone. “You like it far more than you are willing to admit.”
He didn’t wait for her reply. Jason wrapped her in his arms, dragging her to him, molding her soft flesh to his body until she seemed an extension of him.
“You are far too delectable for your own good, sweet Catherine.” As he spoke, his lips trailed over her tingling flesh. “You have a body that was created for passion.” He lifted her effortlessly and placed her on his bed. He leaned close, nipping her earlobe between his teeth with exquisite tenderness. “I want to hear you cry out for me. We will play a little game.”
Several strips of black silk lay on the bedside table. Blindfolds. The realization reverberated through her body and she recoiled.
“You will like this. I promise.”
He kissed the nape of her neck, the curve of her shoulder, stimulating her hunger. He placed the length of silk in her hand.
“Cover your eyes,” he commanded softly.
“Why?” she whispered. “Why would I want to—”
“Shhhh, love…no need to be frightened,” he soothed her. “Tie the cloth over your eyes.”
“I want to see you,” she confessed.
“You will do as I tell you.” His voice was less gentle now. “I will not coax you to obey me.”
She moistened her lips and placed the cloth over her eyes. The black fabric blocked out all but a sliver of light beneath the blindfold. Reaching behind her head, she tied the strip into a loose knot. The sensation was both exciting and maddening. As she sucked in a breath, he took hold of one wrist, circling the limb with another length of silk. “What are you going to do?” she breathed.
“Hush, love…this will help you relax,” Jason breathed against her lips as he fastened a strip of fabric around her other wrist. “Don’t fight me. Just lie back and relax.”
Cathy wanted to obey, but her growing understanding of what he planned for her sent a fresh wave of panic coursing through her body. He held her wrists firmly. Hands roughened by years at sea caressed her traitorous flesh. He eased the pantaloons from her body. The sensations wrought by his touch consumed her, the yearning a desperate need. She bit back a cry of longing.
“Do you want me inside you tonight?” he whispered against the column of her throat. “Do you want to give yourself to me?”
The word was a hushed moan. “Yes.”
“Do you want me to take you tonight, Catherine? Do you want to feel my cock inside you?”
“Yes,” she murmured.
He stretched her right arm toward the bedpost. She felt the silk go taut. He’s tied me down. A heady blend of anticipation and panic shot through her. His hand moved in slow, massaging circles over her belly, soothing away the apprehension.
“I won’t hurt you, love. I have so much to teach you.”
Jason’s mouth claimed hers, a lovers’ kiss, tasting, tantalizing. As his attention moved to her other wrist, she writhed against him, seeking his touch.
When her left wrist was bound, he kissed her mouth then moved lower in a spiraling path down the length of her torso. Spreading her thighs, his fingers wrapped around her ankle even as his mouth hungrily explored the length of her leg, overcoming her fear with the exquisite sensations as his tongue trailed over the skin at her inner thigh.
She nearly leapt from the bed as his tongue danced over the area at the crux of her legs. Parting the folds, he embedded his tongue within her warmth. A low moan hovered, trapped in her throat, as he sought and found the core of her femininity. Stroking her playfully, teasing her until she wanted to cry out with a longing more intense than any she’d ever known.
Mindless with need, Cathy strained against the bindings, but it was no use. She was tied down and helpless to resist any sweet torment he would choose to impose on her. The blindfold maddened her. She longed to see him. She could only imagine the handsome planes of his face as he watched her wriggle beneath his touch, could only imagine the smile of satisfaction in his eyes as he saw her desire for him.
“Please,” she managed weakly as she pulled against the restraints. “Please remove the blindfold.”
She felt him shift and then the touch of his teeth grazed her belly. He kissed her, a leisurely caress. “In time, love,” he whispered as he reclaimed her lips. He brushed his mouth over hers, coaxing a response, stirring her senses with fevered need.
When he broke off the demanding possession, Cathy thought she’d go mad. She wanted his kiss. His touch. His mastery.
A desperate plea welled within her. She bit it back, but he cupped her face, stroking her cheek, destroying the last shreds of her resistance.
“Ah, you need this, my sweet. Just as I need you.”
The scent of his musk filled her senses. Jason ran the tip of his index finger as lightly as a butterfly’s wing along her collarbone, down her middle, gliding over her belly. He traced small circles over her skin, soothing, unrushed, until she relaxed. And then he roamed over her, his mouth following the path of his fingertip. His roughened hands cupped her buttocks as he nestled between the vee formed by her legs.
His tongue darted into her most intimate place, the caress a delicious torment. The waves of sensual stimulation nearly drove her mad with longing. The silk glided against her wrists, reminding her she was helpless, though she knew in truth the restraints were not what truly imprisoned her.
Jason stared down at Cathy, as helpless to resist the temptation of her perfectly rounded curves as she was to resist him. It was as if her desire bound him to her.
He needed to slake his thirst for her and be done with it, he decided ruthlessly. He would deliver her back to her father, ruined, possibly carrying his seed, the perfect instrument for his vengeance agai
nst Edwin Farrell.
The moonlight glinted over her creamy flesh, highlighting her luscious curves. Jason’s cock surged against his trousers, throbbing with hunger for his captive. He forced himself to leave her side and stripped off his clothing. And then he prowled over her, savoring the slide of his skin against hers. His hands and mouth explored her body, inch by inch, learning the feel of her, the taste of her, the sound of her moans. He buried his face in her hair. The faint aroma of lemon water mingled with her natural essence, stimulating his senses.
He didn’t want to care about her. He wanted to hate her, just as he despised her father, but each touch stoked the fire in his soul. Damn it, why did he crave the sounds she made when he pleasured her? Why did it matter that she responded to his touch?
He gazed down at her, clenching his fingers against the urge to sweep over the delicate contours. Had she grown more beautiful? Or was it the soft hint of desire in her whispered words that aroused him more than he’d believed possible? He wasn’t used to wanting a woman as more than a means to sate his carnal appetites. But this was different. He wanted her to crave his touch, his kiss. He wanted her to need him.
“If I untied you, would you resist me?” he breathed against her mouth.
She shook her head fiercely. “Never…I need you.”
He eyed the length of silk tethering a delicate wrist. One flick of his fingers against the knot, and the slender limb would be free. Dragging in a breath, he imagined her hands moving over his body. He yearned for her caress against his skin, the delicate sweep of her fingertips over his flesh, digging into his back, claiming him just as he would claim her.
Madness, he thought. Wanting her was a weakness he could ill afford. Her touch would brand him as indelibly as a blazing hot iron.
Wriggling against him, she canted her hips in sensual offering. All thoughts of weakness and retribution fled, leaving only a need unlike anything he’d ever known. His shaft pulsed with a merciless demand for fulfillment.
Kissing her deeply, Jason slipped a hand between her thighs. His fingers slid within her hot folds, caressing her velvet nether lips. So wet. Jesus, she was ready for him.
“Do you want me inside you, Cathy?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Settling between the cradle of her hips, he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her again, a long, lingering caress. Desire crashed over him, urgent and relentless. He drew in another breath. Christ, he wanted her. She was warm and tight and wild for him. So damn wild.
Angling his hips, he penetrated her with one deep thrust. He stilled his body. Desire threatened to consume him, but he wouldn’t give in. This time with her would not be squandered. He covered her mouth with his own as she rose to meet him, tugging futilely against the restraints. Her low moans betrayed her desperation to pull him even deeper within her heat.
His breath came in ragged exhalations. Jason gritted his teeth and fought for control. He’d waited so long for this moment. He would savor her surrender. His cock filled her, pulsing against her softness as she eagerly met his every stroke.
He moved within her, gently at first, until desperate hunger overtook him. His intention to go slowly this first time gave way as a tiny plea escaped her lips. Low and throaty. Longing for what he could give her. Her hips canted higher, meeting each thrust, his every movement. Need surged within him, a primal yearning that would not be restrained.
Jason eased away, then plunged into her again, filling her, sheathing his throbbing cock within her softness. She was so tight, so hot, drawing him deeper and deeper into the madness of his longing for her.
Determined to maintain control, he steadied himself. Claiming her with smooth, sure strokes, he cupped her buttocks in his hands to pull her even tighter against him, filling her so completely, his muscles trembled with the depth of the sweet pleasure.
Her cries of satisfaction began low in her throat. The soft moans blossomed into an unashamed cry of surrender. She writhed wildly against him, driving his cock deeper within her. Pushing him so far past his limit, there was no chance of return. He claimed her then in savage possession, pulsing hard and fast as he sought the culmination of this exquisite torture.
His growl of fulfillment echoed through the cabin. He collapsed against her, sated, his breath ragged. Lying there for a long moment, he peered down into her face. The flush of his lovemaking colored her cheeks. He rolled to the side of the bed and dragged Cathy to him, lying silent and unmoving, simply listening to her softly indrawn breaths.
Propping himself on one elbow, Jason lay beside her, watching the steady rise and fall of her breasts. The moon’s silver-tipped beams revealed the glimmer of tears over the curve of her face.
Intrigued, Jason ran his fingers over the high ridge of her cheekbones. Casting the blindfold to the floor, he watched her lids flutter open. Cathy met his gaze, her eyes as deep blue as a storm-tossed sea. The desire to comfort her washed over him as he swept away the tears.
“You were crying,” he murmured, grazing the pad of his thumb over her velvet soft skin. “Did I hurt you?”
She bit her lip and looked away.
“Did I hurt you?” Jason asked again. He stroked her cheek until she turned back to face him. “I want you to tell me the truth.”
“You did not hurt me,” she choked out the words.
The tremor in her voice struck him like a fist to the gut. “You were weeping.”
“My tears were not from pain…the pleasure…it was overwhelming.”
Jason could not restrain his deep satisfaction at her words. “You are learning to enjoy my touch,” he whispered as he removed her bindings.
“Too much.” Her voice was a tortured sob. “I should not enjoy the things you do to me.”
He stroked her wrists, soothing, caressing, as he gathered her against his chest. “Ah yes, I’d forgotten. A respectable woman would rather die than succumb to the pleasure I could offer her.” His words teased a hint of a smile to her lips. “You know how I feel about respectable women.”
She sniffled and burrowed against him. This was not a part of his plans, he reminded himself, enfolding her in his arms. He’d never envisioned holding Catherine, soothing her with his touch, enchanted by the longing in her eyes. The softness of her feminine curves molded against him, filling an utterly unfamiliar need.
Was she his captive, or was she a treasure he’d unwittingly had the good sense to seize? Her slight trembling betrayed her reaction to his maleness. She’d been loved thoroughly until she came apart in his arms and now she quivered with response to his nearness. Would he ever find a woman who inflamed his senses the way Catherine did? Or must he consider the maddening possibility he had no choice but to keep her for himself?
Chapter Six
Cathy nestled in her captor’s corded arms. The thick mat of curly hair on his hard chest tickled her nose as she burrowed against him. His strength and warmth filled her with a languorous fulfillment. Sated and gloriously relaxed, she closed her eyes, breathing deeply of the soft, musky scent that surrounded them, and drifted to sleep.
When she awoke, she was alone. She stared at the ceiling, oddly bereft at the realization he’d left her in his bed, covered with a sumptuous quilt. A knock on the door stirred her from the last twilight of sleep. She pulled the bedclothes around her and sat up in bed as the door opened.
“Good morning, Miss Catherine,” Taylor greeted her with bland warmth. “I trust you slept well.”
“Very well.” She hoped she wasn’t blushing as his observant gaze traveled from the bed to her discarded gown on the floor.
“I’ve brought you another dress. This one will be more appropriate for the morning hours.”
“Please leave it on the bed.”
“As you wish.” His mouth hitched in a faint smile as he laid the garment on the rumpled quilt. “The captain expects you to join him for breakfast.”
She reached for the dress. Her gaze swept over the simple yet lovely empire waist g
own. The soft cerulean fabric felt cool and smooth against her fingertips. She held it to her, tucking it beneath her chin, picturing it on her body.
“Do you like it?” Taylor asked, sounding hopeful.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Captain Kane selected it for you,” he stated matter-of-factly.
She blinked at the words. To think that the man who’d seduced her, who’d abducted her from her home and made her want him beyond any semblance of sanity, actually saw to it she’d have garments to wear that pleased her…and him. Maddening to think he exerted such complete control over her, yet the thought of his complete possession pleased her so.
Taylor turned to leave, but her soft call stopped him. “Why does he hate my father?”
He spun on his heel, his expression betraying his hesitation. Seeming to consider his words carefully, he answered her. “The captain’s father took his own life after he lost his fortune to a most careful and shrewd thief.”
Cathy felt as if he’d struck her. Her breath hovered in her throat. “My father was responsible?”
Taylor’s mouth flattened into a thin line. He nodded grimly. “Edwin Farrell lured Nathaniel Kane and several other investors into a devious business scheme that was nothing more than a ruse to part wealthy men from their fortunes. The captain’s father lost everything. The shame of leaving his family destitute was too much for him to bear.”
The breath rushed from her lungs. “I had no idea.” She lowered her gaze. Could Taylor sense the uncertainty in her words?
“I’m sure you did not, Miss Catherine. How could you have known? You would have been a very young child at the time.”
Images of her luxurious silk gowns and expensive jewels flashed through her thoughts. She hugged her arms to her chest, feeling suddenly as though she’d lose the contents of her stomach. Her father had made no secret of his quest to marry her off to a man who’d enrich his accounts. He’d happily exchange her happiness for more gold in his purse. Could she doubt a man with her father’s greed and lavish tastes would connive and scheme to cheat his business partners? Her father indulged his extravagant tastes and penchant for gambling and women with the fortunes he’d stolen from other men’s families. The bitter taste of bile flooded her mouth.
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