He kissed her all over her face. The murmuring of her name followed each peck to her cheeks and nose. He moved slowly in and out of her, patiently nurturing the intimate connection between them. Once he lifted his face from hers, she swirled her fingers over his mouth, tracing his smile. She stroked his jaw and played with the gold hoop in his ear while watching his expression during the stirring movements.
The tips of her breasts heated and swelled from the stimulation of his chest brushing back and forth. Finally he shifted down to his forearms, which brought him close enough to kiss. Their lips met with caution. Eventually the expectancy of more pleasure reenergized her from her last orgasm.
He lowered farther, first tickling her nipples, and then bearing down so that she felt the weight of him. His thrusting hips moved harder upon her, teasing the throbbing twinges of another climax. Then unexpectedly, his lunges came to a halt.
In her growing excitement, she let out a disgruntled complaint. “No!” she cried.
“Patience,” he whispered, bowing his head so the heat of his breath fanned her damp neck.
He nuzzled below her ear, under her jaw, circling until his lips brushed hers. The warm splendor lasted a few seconds, and then left for the other side of her face. When he finished, he pushed up on his hands and resumed driving into her, spreading heat to all her limbs. He plunged deeper than she believed possible, pounding with fervent speed. She felt as if her insides exploded around his thick cock. His grunts escalated, signaling the nearing end. But she didn’t want it to be over, and she plotted at how to keep him from stopping.
Apparently he knew what she had been thinking when he moaned harshly against her ear. “I’m not through with you yet, me beauty.” He rose up and resumed pumping into her. His rapid moves brought her up from the bed and pressed her back into the downy softness. Another climax developed, and she drew within herself to revel in the glory.
Abruptly he pulled free with a tortured groan. A liquid warmth splashed her belly and breasts. She reached between their separated bodies and wrapped her fingers around his shaft, pumping his sheath back and forth. With her other hand, she massaged his ass. His face tensed as the final spurt tickled her navel. Through half-closed eyes, he stared at her. She tried to pull him to her. He resisted at first, obviously trying to be polite and considerate of the mess, but then sagged against her.
She tried imagining what it would feel like to have him filling her, the heat of his essence swimming inside—that creamy balm soothing the tenderness of her flesh. However, here again, Captain Jasper Blackthorn showed her the thoughtfulness of a well-mannered gentleman. He would not impregnate her on a whim.
In her euphoria, she watched Jasper get up and walk to a bucket of water. He wet a rag and came back to her. She held out her hand and let him wash her fingers. His tenderness in bathing her breasts, her belly and between her legs was magical. She had never known such care by a man. When he finished, she was clean of his discharge.
Exhausted, sated beyond her wildest imaginings, she closed her eyes. She felt a linen sheet float down over her, and then Jasper crawled into bed with her. He gathered her in his arms and gave her the best reason to sleep. Only the experience prevented her from drifting off.
“You were amazing,” she whispered, kissing his jaw.
“No more than you, me beauty.” He tipped her face up with a hand under her chin. “I suggest you rest. As I told you before, I’m not done with you yet.”
Abigail buried her face into the warm musky scent of his neck, appreciative of his continued embrace. Sex had increased the appealing manly fragrance of him. She wanted to bask in the feral opulence without thought to anything else.
Unfortunately they had an enemy and her worry forced her to ask what came next.
“If Eric found my house in London and he located us on the sea, will he also be able to find us when we reach the location of the treasure?”
Jasper’s hand slid down her arm and stroked her hip. “Probably. That’s why we’re not going to North Carolina.”
“Where are we going?” She lifted her head.
“An island in the Caribbean. I have a friend there whom we can stay with for a day while I make some repairs to the ship. I can’t let Eric get close to us right now. With the holes we have in the deck and the torn sails, we’re vulnerable.” He sat up and straightened the covers over her. “I’ll be right back.”
She rolled toward the wall and rubbed her face into the comforting scent of Jasper on his pillow. Soon after he left, loud banging echoed from somewhere on the ship. Then silence. Not the reassuring kind, but an eerie quiet that encouraged her to sit up and listen harder. Too aware of the danger Eric presented, she debated getting up and checking on Jasper. He returned before she left the bed. In the radiance of the electric light, glowing from a bubble of glass attached to the wall of the cabin, she watched him rubbing warmth into his arms.
“Is anything wrong?” she asked.
“No.” He crawled back into bed with her, coaxing her to lie down. “I was just checking on the automated navigational equipment and the fuel for the steam engine. We were a little off course, so I made the adjustments.”
“Your ship amazes me every time I think of all it does, and practically on its own.” She shivered at the touched of his lips on her back. “Did you have a lot of schooling?”
“A lifetime of it.” He snuggled in closer to her back.
“You’re cold. You should have worn your coat or the cloak to stay warm.”
“I figured I had you to warm me.” He spooned against her.
She shuddered as the length of his cool, bare skin met hers. By the feel of his cock hardening against her bottom, she knew she’d not get any sleep.
“Tell me about this,” he said, his fingers tracing the tattoo on her thigh. “What inspired you to have it done?”
She thought of the delicate rose vine with several leaves and one tiny red bud symbolizing her lost loved one. “My mother loved roses. She once told me that people are similar to them—born like rosebuds on a vine, blooming to life, and then withering and dying. When I decided to get this tattoo, I thought this was a perfect image to preserve my memory of her. Do you disapprove?”
“You’ll never forget her, Abigail.” Jasper squeezed her slightly, hugging her against him. “But I understand your desire for something symbolic. And I think it a great testament of your love.” He slid his hand up, caressing her hip, her belly and coming to rest beneath her breast.
“Randolph’s reaction was less than enthusiastic.” She paused, realizing she had never spoken about her engagement to the man. “I should mention, Randolph Humphries was once my fiancé.”
Jasper didn’t comment, and nervously she continued talking.
“Well, while he didn’t say he hated it, he called tattooing a crude indulgence for the lower class. Then realizing his mistake in forgetting I am of the lower class, he added it wasn’t very ladylike.”
Jasper’s hand moved down again and rested on her hip. “Do you still love him?”
“Heavens no.” She laced her fingers between his and pulled his hand back to her breast, happy to have the chance to reassure him Randolph was firmly in her past. “I thought I did once. However, the longer I knew him, the greater my disenchantment became for that misguided infatuation. I know now I never loved Randolph. He was a convenience I outgrew.” If she wasn’t sure before, she was now. Her love for Jasper leaped over every warning in her head.
“He didn’t deserve you.”
“I agree. He had an idea of what kind of woman he wanted, but I didn’t fit the mold. He never made me feel as if it were me he wanted.”
“I want you, me beauty,” he murmured into her hair, nuzzling kisses through to her neck.
“I like you wanting me, Jasper.” She wanted him in every physical and emotional way possible.
He rubbed her arms, her side, then around to her belly. She tried to turn toward him, but he slipped his hand between h
er legs and lifted the top one. She held her leg up, feeling his erect cock sweep into place. Skillfully he penetrated her moist channel. He rocked against her, kissing and nipping her shoulder. She grasped the sheets as the tingling spiraled deeper.
“Oh God,” she whimpered into the pillow.
His groans escalated, matching hers beat for beat. Her orgasm came quick. His came when he withdrew and broke the connection with her. She tried not to dwell on her disappointment he’d pulled from her again.
“Shall we get in the bathing closet together?” He hugged her tight.
“Is there enough room to do more than stand?” She wiggled her way around to face him.
He grasped her bottom, his long fingers digging into her flesh with a firm grip. “If we stay close like this.”
“Then can we eat? I can’t believe you’re not hungry.”
As he got up, he wiped himself off with part of the sheet. His gaze still roving over her nudity, she nonchalantly pulled part of the sheet up. The end of intimacy brought unease. She used another corner of the bedding to clean away the fluids he had spilled on her. His casualness should have lessened her awkwardness. She wanted to feel empowered by their experience. All she got was a foolish feeling of being in over her head.
Jasper walked across the cabin, again as if being naked was normal. Not wanting to show him an ounce of insecurity, she tugged the sheets from the bed. She glanced over at him stooping down to start the machine that made the water flow through the pipes in the shower. Clothed or not, the man had an air of command about him. He displayed a mental strength as if he never lost control of any part of his life. Meanwhile, her facade of independence had been slowly crumbling away.
“Ready?” He sauntered back over to her.
Muscles rippling throughout his gorgeous body prevented her from looking away. She blindly chucked the soiled bedding to the corner on the floor. Later she’d get a clean set from where she’d seen them in a cabinet in the storage cabin.
Jasper took her hand and led her to the shower closet. He opened the door, and they both rushed inside the cubicle.
“Oh, it’s so cold,” she squealed, huddling to him for warmth.
“Give it a few seconds.” He turned a knob. “Takes some time for the heated water to work its way through the pipes from the boiler.”
“I’m going to freeze in here.” She looked up and water splashed her face.
“I have a cure for that.” His mouth came down on hers, wet and aggressive.
The temperature rose, from his hands roaming her body to the change in the water. They bathed and kissed, and kissed and bathed. Suds flowed down their skin as the cake of soap passed back and forth. She usually found washing a chore. With Jasper, the deed was an exhilarating experience.
“If I might take a guess, you’re never going let me get dressed again, are you?” she asked, enjoying the ticklish kisses circling her face.
“Good idea, don’t you think?” He backed her against the wall and kept her pinned with his body. He studied her for a long moment, his gaze darkening with lust, his hips shifting for alignment.
Water splashed his head and dripped from his brown hair. She touched his unshaven jaw, liking the rough and dangerous appearance. The unusualness of a man wearing an earring attracted her attention.
“What made you decide to wear this?” She fingered the small ring of gold.
“It’s just something I did.”
“But why?” She stuck the tip of her finger in the loop. “It doesn’t even look like a real earring. More like a makeshift one from—”
“Forget about why I wear the ring in my ear,” he snapped.
She stopped touching the piece of jewelry and looked away.
“Can we talk about it another time?” He cupped her face.
She glanced up at him and nodded. He more than confessed with his tone that the earring was special. She didn’t like not knowing about the one thing that rattled his usually unflustered manner.
Jasper leaned forward. He kissed her forehead, showering her with the warmth of apologetic affection. She tipped her head back and kissed him, smoothing over the bumpy spot in their relationship.
“Tell me what you want,” she whispered, running her hands over his shoulders.
“You know what I want.” He cocked his head to the side and grinned.
“There’s not much room.” She glanced around at the small space.
He gripped her buttocks, squeezing, massaging. “There are ways.” Locked between them, his cock crept up her belly.
“All right.” She smiled, excited by his penchant for sex. The next time she’d prepare herself with a sponge dipped in vinegar and inserted into her vagina. If not for the museum’s extensive collection of medical books on reproduction, along with Randolph’s handy knowledge that this was how prostitutes prevented themselves from getting pregnant, she would never know what a man’s orgasm felt like inside her.
Jasper pulled her legs up to his hips. His hands slid to her bottom and maneuvered her into position. He rocked back and then forward. His cock nudged the opening of her sex. Wet and slick inside, she accepted the length of him as he filled her with his hard warmth.
She held onto him, her arms around his back. He moved back and forth, withdrawing and then driving into her. The rhythm increased. She squeezed her legs against his lean hips, digging her heels into the muscled flesh of his ass. Every thrust of his massive cock stretched her wider. She had no complaints. She wanted all of him.
“Don’t stop,” she moaned against his mouth.
“Not yet I won’t.” His fierce kiss progressed from her lips to her neck.
“Jasper, please,” she begged as his muscles tensed beneath her fingertips. “Finish in me.”
“Like this?” He sounded surprised.
“Yes.” She held him tighter, yearning to feel his body shuddering upon discharge. Her breasts squishing against his firm chest made her nipples tingle.
“It’s not a good idea. There could be—”
“In me,” she demanded, and kissed him hard.
Then a loud boom reverberated in the chamber. Jasper pulled back, forcing her to drop her legs and stand. Their bodies separated.
“What was that?” She panted heavily from the orgasm still twitching her insides.
Jasper stuck his head out the door. He appeared to listen, just as she did. She looked at the pipes overhead, wondering what might come spurting out.
“Well?” she asked, impatient to learn whether she should worry or not.
“Get out and get dressed.” He abruptly left her in the bathing closet.
She felt alone and discarded. The water stopped falling, a sign Jasper had shut off his contraption. Irritated by whatever took her lover away, she shook off the chilling water from her skin and reached for the door handle.
Another rumble coincided with a shake and roll of the ship, jostling her about the cubicle.
“Is that gunfire?” She hurried out and caught a towel Jasper tossed to her while he pulled on his breeches. “Has Eric found us? Is he going to shoot us out of the sky?”
She wrapped the towel around her and took another from the shelf. Panic swelled inside her. She quickly bent over to rub her dripping hair. When she righted herself, Jasper was gone from the cabin. Another jolt of the ship made her hurry to put on clothing, any clothing, as she grabbed Jasper’s white shirt from the floor and slipped it over her head. She ran out of the cabin, but stopped before hurrying up the steps. If Eric had found them, she wanted to be prepared. She went to the storage cabin and found a skirt and knickers. The brass corset took time, but it was like armor and had saved her from a bullet once before. At last she got her boots on and laced them up. Then she rushed to join Jasper. Another loud rumble jostled her forward.
The heavenly paradise of blue skies and fluffy white clouds had disappeared in a dark shroud of imminent peril.
Jasper shut down the engine, cranked the manual levers and lowered the s
ails. His joints warned him of a storm. The wet smell of rain had hung in the air for over an hour. Unfortunately, the squall came at them quicker than he expected.
“We’re going to have to land. The lightning is dangerous enough. But there is also the wind resistance on the sails and the rain weighing down the ship. Fuel is already low for the steam engines and I’ve shut them off.”
“Is there something I can do to help?” Abigail crawled toward him, picking herself up from the deck.
“Crank that handle and lower the sail.” He pointed to the big-toothed wheel that spun the gears beneath it.
“Me?” She wiped the water from her face, giving him a look of worry. “I was barely able to turn the smaller one. I don’t think I’m strong enough.”
“Sure you are.” He looked over the side to see their distance from landing.
He hurried to the wheel and turned the rudder, steering them into the erratic winds, hoping one current of air kept them up instead of plunging into the sea. When the ship tipped too far forward, crates and barrels fell. Abigail tumbled to the deck as well.
“Grab a rope and tie it to your waist,” he called down to her.
She managed to snag a loose line, but instead of tying it to herself, she went back to lowering the sail. The ship rocked up, throwing her back, and he lost sight of her against the bulkhead under him.
“Abigail?” He worked at hitching a rope to the wheel to keep it turned. “Abigail, can you hear me?”
He got no response. No cry. No whimper. Nothing. His feet barely touched a rung of the ladder as he slid on the palms of his hands down the wet railing going from quarterdeck to main deck.
“I’m all right.” She crawled out into the open, the rope circled and knotted at her waist over the brass corset.
“Wait there and I’ll finish lowering the sail. We’ll land soon. It will be rough so hold on to whatever you can.” He fought the harsh spray of rain in his face as he made his way to the crank handle.
Under Her Brass Corset Page 11
