by Hazel Hunter
His words ended in a gasp as she squeezed hard.
“Until I what?” she asked sweetly.
“Until you screamed my name,” he panted. “Begged me to stop.” His abs were flexing as though he were doing a sit-up, but he stayed where he was. “I would take you so hard. I would fuck you so deep.”
Her tight fist rammed up and then down. His entire body jerked. When he tried to speak, she went faster.
“Gillian,” he groaned. “I want to come.”
“Don’t.”
She was shocked by her own ferocity, but Shayne only squeezed his eyes closed tight. His elbows came up, squeezing his head. The muscles of his arms bulged. The cords of his neck stood out. His nipples were dark and taut. In that moment, she knew he was hers. She could command or prevent his climax, as she saw fit. Wet warmth flooded between her legs.
Suddenly his hips thrust up. She let him go.
“No,” he breathed.
“I didn’t tell you to move,” she said, breathing hard as well.
“You’re so cruel,” he said, just the way he’d say you’re so beautiful.
Gillian’s only response was to laugh.
She got off the bed, went to his pants, and found a condom in the front pocket. For a brief moment, she hungered for his bare flesh against her slit and then sliding inside her. She shook her head, trying to clear it. As she went back to the bed, she tore open the foil and started to hand him the condom. But then she thought better of it. As Shayne stared, she positioned it over the glassy head of his shaft and rolled it down just a little. Then she bent her head down, and held it in place with her lips. Shayne’s entire body went rigid. Achingly slow, she used her lips and teeth to smooth the latex lower. He groaned, flexing his hips, as a thrill shot through her.
“I can’t believe you,” he groaned. “I can’t–”
She moved lower on him, bringing his length into her mouth and then her throat.
A strangled cry escaped Shayne’s lips.
With the condom finally in place, she drew back, but as she did, she stroked him with her tongue.
It was as though he’d been whipped, his back arching off the bed.
She threw one leg over his body, straddling his thighs, and sat just behind his sheathed cock. With a slow and sinuous motion, she squirmed on top of him, sliding her body along his.
“Let me touch you,” he growled, his eyes boring into hers. “Please, Gillian, I just want to touch you.”
“In a minute,” she said, delighted by the careless tone in her voice.
“I can’t–”
“You can. And you will.”
She inched herself further up his body until she could feel his cock pressed between them. Slowly, his hot shaft slid along her slit. He made a whimpering sound, and pushed up against her. The engorged tip of his cock pressed into her clit. Gillian gasped. She was already so sensitive.
“Do it again,” she breathed.
He did it immediately, rising up against her body again and again. Before she had been aroused. But now her body had just one purpose––to satisfy itself. With a whimper of her own, Gillian lifted up for a moment, sliding her hand down between their bodies. She grasped his cock and positioned it beneath her. The bulbous tip parted her so easily. She paused there, the rocking of the ship making her sway rhythmically, as Shayne stared at the spot where they connected. Without a warning, in a single driving motion, she dropped down on him. Shayne hissed through clenched teeth. Gillian barely managed to keep from wailing. The stretch of her entrance, the plunging fullness inside her, it was beyond exquisite. With a jolt, she realized she hadn’t just been teasing him.
“Touch me,” she demanded. “Do it now.”
As she repeatedly raised and lowered herself along his shaft, his fingers found her clit. Frantically rubbing and circling, they quickly matched her ferocious rhythm. His other hand went to her breast, shaping and molding it. She reveled in the rough eagerness of his touch, but she had yet to unleash him. His body writhed under her, a great beast under her command. She rode him now, the tension in her belly spiraling rapidly out of control. She didn’t care.
Her orgasm burst over her as bright as the sun, and just as hot. She groaned as her hips whipped back and forth, pummeling him, insatiable. She could barely get a breath, but she knew she had to.
“Come,” she gasped.
With a savage sound, he gripped her hips in both hands. Holding her still, he surged up into her so fast and hard that a sharp grunt was wrenched from her throat. He’d gone so deep, she gripped her belly.
“Shayne–”
He thrust again. Her entire body flexed and wavered, but his hands held her firm. Drained by her own climax, it was all she could do to stay upright. Something feral had unlocked inside him, and he thrust again, harder, and then faster. His hips were pumping, his shaft pistoning, as they grunted together. She might have been frightened by his passion, but it only pleased her as she gave herself up to it.
With a final cry, he drove up hard, and his release jerked inside her. His entire length quivered. She moaned at the thought of the latex separating them. She imagined his hot seed flowing inside her, how it would feel without separation. But then his hips collapsed to the bed without warning, and she was impaled one last time. Struggling for air, she collapsed to his chest. The little room spun as she closed her eyes. Only now did she realize his hips were still thrusting. Her arms limp at his sides, he still gripped her hips, both of them breathing hard, until finally he slowed and then quieted. For minutes they lay like that, the only sound their harsh breaths, the creaking of the timbers, and the lapping of the waves.
She was the one who moved first. She pulled away from him, wincing a little at the stiffness of her body and sensitivity between her legs. She fell away to lie down by his side, one arm thrown possessively over his chest. He curled an arm around her shoulders, bringing her close.
“Do you have any further orders for me?” he said lowly.
She laughed a little, already drowsy. “Remind me to do this again,” she whispered.
“Oh, that I will.”
CHAPTER THREE
THE SIRENA WAS a strange ship in many ways, but in the morning, Gillian realized it was no stranger than her master. Konrad could touch the ship, and it seemed to respond. She never saw him at the helm, and yet they seemed always to be sailing in the same direction. She and Shayne stood next to him at the railing as he took a sextant shot.
“Are there many Wiccans who have your powers?” Gillian asked him.
He lowered the sextant and took note of the reading.
“What do you mean?”
“The ability to bond with things, I suppose. I’ve never heard of it before.”
He shrugged. “It’s different out here. You do what you need to survive.”
When he said the last, he shifted his eyes to Shayne, who looked slightly startled, but then grinned.
Konrad started to say something, but the ship tilted a little. The beam swung over and the sail started to flap, as though it was loose. Konrad cursed under his breath.
“Excuse me,” he said, before handing the sextant to Shayne and marching aft.
As Shayne raised the instrument to his eye, Gillian found herself wandering toward the prow of the ship. The wind was strong, making her squint, but the view was wonderful. The sparkling blue ocean surrounded them, without a piece of land in sight. As the bow slapped against the water, sending up spray, the tips of the waves seemed to twinkle under the bright sun. Only when she shielded her eyes from the bright reflection off the water, did she realize someone was sitting in the bowsprit. For a moment she thought it was the masthead. When the woman moved, she realized she was real. Then the woman turned her head to look at Gillian.
“You?” she said in surprise.
It was the round-faced woman from the bar in Port Ilya. Konrad had said her name was Sal. She was dressed in the same canvas pants and black tank top. She hopped down off the pro
w, smiling at Gillian, and pulled her into a hug. Gillian usually didn’t like being hugged by strangers, but after their kiss, they probably weren’t strangers.
“I didn’t know you were aboard.”
The woman’s face turned dark. She scowled so fiercely that Gillian took a step back. A knot twisted in her stomach.
“Are…are you all right?”
Before Sal could try to answer, Shayne and Konrad came up behind her.
“I see you’ve met the first mate,” said Konrad, smiling.
“First mate?”
Though she’d posed the question to Konrad, Gillian found herself watching Shayne. He didn’t look at her, or at Sal for that matter. Instead, he seemed to gaze contentedly out to sea.
“Yes,” Konrad said. “She’s the first mate on the Sirena, if there’s such a thing.”
Sal offered Konrad a scowl and stumped away from the group, swinging herself up into the ragged rigging and climbing until she was at the top of it. Vlasti settled on the spar next to her.
“Sal’s from a strange people, but she works hard. She’s not very friendly though.”
“I see,” Gillian said.
Except that she knew Sal was indeed quite friendly. A growing sense of unease began to rise in her chest.
“I’m feeling a little tired,” Gillian said. “Maybe I’ll head below deck, lie down for a while.”
Shayne barely paid enough attention to nod at her. She wanted to ask him to join her, but it made her feel nervous in front of Konrad. Instead, she did just as she said, making her way aft and then down the steps.
You’re being foolish, she thought. He rescued you from that Templar, and he’s being paid extremely well to take you to the Midnight Market.
She took a deep breath and crouched next to her backpack to check it again. The contents were memorized by now, but it helped calm her nerves. Max gave a tiny squeak from the pocket of her coat, hanging from a peg. Then he was zipping down to the floor and into her lap. She cradled him against her as she continued to rummage. A pack of condoms in an inner pocket made her think of Shayne. She glanced upward. He’d probably be down in a minute. At least she hoped so. She tucked the condoms back into the pack. As she stood, her eyes landed on the bookshelf. There was a wide variety of books to choose from, but she selected the one on sea legends. It seemed somehow fitting. As she lay down with it and let Max go, she realized just how tired she actually felt. Though she’d only said it as an excuse to leave, the last few days had taken their toll. She fell asleep dreaming of whales moving in the depths, swimming under the ship and weaving their paths all over the world.
Gillian awakened when a weight settled on the bed. She sleepily reached for Shayne, only to realize it wasn’t him. Where he was broad and strong, her new visitor was soft and round. Gillian sat bolt upright.
Sal perched on the bed.
“Hello, er, I mean, hi.”
Though Sal was reaching for one of Gillian’s gloved hands, Gillian stopped herself from pulling back. But she needn’t have. Sal froze when she saw the open book laying on the bed. The look on her face was a mix of sadness and bone-deep fury.
“Sal? Sal what is it?”
Sal turned it so that Gillian could see, and pointed at one of the drawings. A naked woman sat on a rock. She stared out at the ocean, her eyes dark and sad. By her side was a seal, and behind her was the shadowy figure of a man. He held what looked like clothing. No, it wasn’t clothing, Gillian realized. It was something else. Puzzled, she glanced at the text. Sal rested her head against Gillian’s shoulder as she started to read. It was a chapter on selkies.
“Selkies?” Gillian murmured.
Sal tapped the book.
Gillian had read stories about selkies, as they were called in the British Isles. They were seals who could shed their skins to go dancing on the rocks as young women. They were monstrously strong, creatures of sea and passion. They were beautiful, and when they were in their human form, they were vulnerable. Their skins could be stolen, and whoever had their skin had the power to destroy them. A sense of dread started to stir inside Gillian. As she read, she glanced between Sal and the text. Sal nodded at the illustration. Gillian realized that the man in the back of the picture wasn’t holding clothing. He was holding a fur. She shivered.
“Sal?”
The other woman turned dark eyes at her. Gillian thought of the way the woman had glared at Konrad.
“Konrad has your skin,” she said quietly, glancing at the door. “He has it, and you can’t leave.”
A smoldering look and flared nostrils told Gillian she was right.
“That’s terrible!” Gillian whispered harshly. “We have to get it back. You know where it is?”
Sal nodded. As she got off the bed, Gillian followed her out of the room. They crept quietly down the hall. The darkness of the passageway was relieved by the ghostly glow of a single, faint lantern. They passed a door marked storage, but stopped at the door that Konrad had indicated were his quarters. But the moment Gillian put her gloved hand on the handle she felt a spark.
The door had been warded. Without knowing what type of enchantment had been placed on it, there was no predicting what would happen if she turned the handle. The most powerful enchantments could be deadly.
Gillian turned to Sal, who looked both angry and resigned. She had obviously expected this. Despite the dire situation, Gillian’s heart reached out to Sal. And to Gillian’s surprise, she also felt an emotion she hadn’t expected: anger. She put a gloved hand on the woman’s shoulder.
“We’ll figure this out,” Gillian promised. “We will.”
• • • • •
Gillian returned to the cabin, realizing with shock that it was almost dusk. There was no sign that Shayne had been back. She was just going to search for him when the door opened. Shayne stood in the doorway for a moment, blinking in confusion. If Gillian hadn’t known better, she would have said that he was sleepwalking.
“Shayne?” At the sound of her voice, he looked up in surprise. “Shayne, come in and shut the door.”
Though he looked as if he was on the verge of falling asleep, he did as she said. Then he sat heavily on the bed next to her.
“Shayne.”
He shook his head violently, his gaze finally snapping back into focus.
“How long was I gone?”
“You mean how long were you with Konrad? Most of the day.”
“Most of the day?” he said, glancing at the portal. “I would have said a few hours at most.”
“Shayne, something strange is going on. What did you and Konrad do?”
Shayne scowled.
“We talked. He showed me the ship. Did he sing?” Shayne concentrated. “I think I remember him singing. I don’t remember.”
Gillian quickly outlined her encounter with Sal.
Shayne stood so fast that Gillian jumped. “I think it’s time I had a talk with Konrad.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” she said quickly, getting up. “He controls the ship.”
Shayne shook his head. “He’ll listen, or I’ll throw him overboard. Force is something he’ll understand.”
Gillian bit her lip. Shayne was a fighter through and through, but Konrad was more than he seemed. Shayne lightly grasped her at the shoulders.
“I’ll be right back,” he said. His touch reminded her she’d been without it all day.
“But you just got here,” she said, the plaintive tone in her voice almost making her wince.
“Then he won’t be expecting me,” he said.
“I’ll come with you,” she tried.
“You need to stay here,” he said, gazing into her eyes.
Though he didn’t say it, the words ‘where I don’t have to worry about you’ sounded in her ears.
“All right,” she said reluctantly. “But remember, you have to stay safe, so you can keep me safe.”
He smiled a little, kissed her on the forehead, and was gone.
&n
bsp; Gillian listened to his footsteps retreating. She waited next to the door, not sure what to expect. Raised voices perhaps? Banging? A splash in the ocean. She’d never hear that from down here. She stared at the knob. Or would Shayne use fire? There’d hardly be any sound in that case. Hands on hips, she glanced up at the ceiling. What were they doing? Though she listened intently, the only sounds were those of the rocking ship and the sea. What was going on?
She clasped her gloved hands together in front of her.
“I’m a liability,” she reminded herself.
She paced to the bed, and then back, her own footsteps sounding too loud. She put her ear to the door––still nothing. She couldn’t take it any more. As quietly as she could manage, she turned the knob. Though the mechanism seemed to clunk louder than she’d ever heard one, she pried the door open just a crack. The hallway was empty. With a tiny squeak, she opened it the rest of the way. There was no one in sight. She glanced at the stairs that led to the deck. The faint orange light of sunset lit them, but still there were no sounds. Something wasn’t right. Even with normal sailing, there had been sounds. Hadn’t there?
Gillian crept silently toward the stairs, hands on the walls to steady herself. Though the stairs creaked, she began her slow climb. Only three steps up, and she could at least see up top. The deck was clear. She scowled. Where were they? For a panicked moment, she imagined Shayne and Konrad struggling and falling overboard. She took the final steps up in a hurry. At the top she turned, and there they were, near the bow. To her surprise, they were relaxed, not the least sign of trouble. She cocked her head at them.
Konrad sat perched on the railing, fiddling with his pipe. Shayne was so close to the man that he was practically standing between Konrad’s bent knees. She couldn’t see the look on Shayne’s face, but Konrad was entirely pleased with himself, a slight smirk lending his features a dangerous air.
