by Kresley Cole
He flinched as if she'd burned him. "Untie me."
"Don't ask me that, because I won't."
"If you untie me, I can bring you even more pleasure than you found the night of the storm."
The events of that night affected her, plagued her, made her burn. But this wasn't just a memory; she could do the things she wished they'd done that night.
Her attention kept trailing to her hand gliding up and down his length. Fascinated, a moth to flame, she moved to reach him better, placing a knee between his legs. His thigh came up and pressed between her own. She drew in a shocked breath. She would move away...but it soothed her, like blowing on a burn. She stayed against him, still fondling him.
That was her hand gripping him. She was panting now, not caring that she'd grown wet against his leg. Then he flexed his hard thigh, making her rock up and down. She bit back a moan. He did it again, then stopped, rasping to her, "Use it, love. Take what you need...."
And she did. She rode his leg, her right hand holding his sculpted torso, her left hand stroking.
"Nicole! Look at me."
She dragged her gaze from her busy hand.
His face was pained, his deep voice gravelly. "Do you want me to make you feel things you've never felt before?"
Shivering at the low timbre of his voice, she could only mouth, "Yes."
"Put it inside you."
She was well past the point of feeling any shyness. Her scalp tightened and her skin tingled. The yearning wetness between her legs drove her to do as he told her.
When Nicole covered him, as she had his leg, he sucked in a breath and almost exploded instantaneously beneath that dewy heat kissing his flesh. He'd been driven mad when she used his leg, almost came in her hand while she masturbated him, and now to feel her...
"You have to stop that," he grated. "You have to put me inside you."
She glanced down with a nervous look at where their bodies touched.
In the back of his mind, he felt like a bastard. This position would hurt her more, but he couldn't turn back. It was her fault, damn her, that he couldn't take her in a more conventional manner.
His conscience got the better of him. "This will hurt you...probably worse than it would if I could move over you."
She looked searchingly into his eyes. "When you've done this before, did you do anything to keep the woman from hurting?"
He frowned. "Do you mean, when I've deflowered a woman?"
"Yes," she breathed as she resumed moving against him.
He watched her eyes glaze over with passion and, feeling his body's response, he found it difficult to answer. "I've never done...I've never been with a virgin. But I know it helps if you're, well, if you feel desire for me, too," he tried to explain, his voice thick. "You seem to have that covered."
Her sultry eyes opened and sparkled with...humor?
"No pun intended?" Her lips broke into a grin as she looked down at where her body connected with his.
"Love," he said as his answering grin was replaced by a look of misery, "we've either got to do this or we need to--" Anything he might have added was lost as he watched her rise up and grasp him, feeding it in....
A low hiss of breath stole across his lips as she slid over him. The pleasure was so intense, so driving, it took every ounce of will he had not to thrust upward into her.
Slowly. She needed to do this slowly.
It didn't appear that Nicole understood this. When she'd just placed the tip of him into her, she pulled away, but her body just as quickly compelled her to move down him again. She did this shallow rising and falling forever, each time lowering herself slightly more onto his aching cock. There could be no worse torture. Would he ever fit inside her?
"Nicole," he grated out, "take more of me in you--I need you to take all of me." If he wasn't fully into that tight sheath soon, he wouldn't be able to stop his hips from surging up into her.
After a pause, she pushed her hands farther up on his chest, forcing herself back until he could feel the barrier.
He never took his eyes from hers as she steadied herself, gliding lower and lower. She wouldn't look away, either. It was as if she needed him to gain courage. But when her eyes teared, he knew he needed to help her. He took a breath, dug his heels into the bed, and shoved his way into her core.
She cried out, her nails embedding themselves in his chest, before she sank over him, motionless.
"Nicole? Are you all right?"
She breathed against his skin. "Uh-huh."
He made himself still inside her, wanting to savor the way she clasped him so tightly, knowing she needed time to adjust to him.
How long they lay like this, he didn't know. All his muscles stood tense in agony, not being able to move inside her, but he was a big man and didn't want to hurt her any more.
Her body at last grew accustomed to the fullness and became greedy. She rose up and gingerly impaled herself. He wanted to make this last, but she began moving on him faster, sighing, moaning, wincing when she took him as fully as she could, still not to the hilt. If his hands were free, he would be running them up and down her body and maybe even encircling her waist to slow their explosive joining.
The idea of being tied up became increasingly erotic to him, and he tried not to think of the ropes lest he come too soon. With him tied, she was free to do whatever she needed to pleasure herself with his body.
Nicole was on the verge of that overriding release, and now that she recognized the feeling and welcomed it, she did everything to hasten that end. She rode him in complete abandon, opening her knees wide to pull more of him inside her. The limits of their bodies became unclear as she found herself rushing closer to her climax. She wished she had untied him so that he could touch her swollen breasts. He must have sensed what she wanted, because he commanded, "Arch your back more. Give them to me."
As she did, he leaned up, his muscles straining against his bonds so that he could rub his tongue over the swollen peaks. When he lay back, her body obediently followed him, and she felt a strange, insistent urge to hand him her breast in offering. She could only lay her right hand across her torso under her breast as she dipped down over him, but he understood the gesture and hungrily latched onto her nipple, making it harden even more between his lips.
He moved from one to the other. As though suckling her excited him, he pressed his feet down and used the resistance to reach his hips up, slamming up into her, springing her up and down in a fury. Too much...Her whole body stiffened...then the wave crashed over her in a fiery pulsing of wetness and gripping spasms. He followed her, her breast against his mouth as he groaned and burst forward from his own throbbing eruption.
Derek lay unmoving. Nicole had fallen asleep after he'd climaxed, lying softly on his chest, her body on and wrapped around his.
As he delved through all the emotions and questions swirling inside him, one thought stood out--he could not lose her. The feeling of wanting her so totally was mysterious to him. And alarming.
With any other woman, the idea of being tied up and unable to extricate himself after sex would have been his undoing. He'd never stayed with a woman after he was done with her. He should be experiencing the familiar panic that always came when someone was getting too close. Instead, his position infuriated him because she could choose to get up and walk away, and he couldn't prevent her. He'd never experienced anything like what continued to happen between them, and he knew in his bones he never would again without her.
How much longer would his men be ashore? Three hours? If he could keep her here until they got back, she might think it wiser not to leave. Then, with time, he could convince her to stay with him.
He could call the watch assigned to the ship, but imagining the betrayed look that would flash down on him as soon as she woke up, he hesitated. Worse, what if she didn't move in time? He had, he thought with an inward smile, given her plenty to be worn out from.
His face tightened. The thought of his watch
coming in and seeing her in the position they were in--No, he thought angrily, that wasn't an option. So now his plan was simply to remain as still as possible and hope she wouldn't wake up until his crew got back.
At least, that was the plan. Until he hardened inside her again.
She stirred in her sleep, murmuring something and lightly grasping his shoulder. Luckily she didn't wake up; if only he could say that about his wayward member.
Think of something else. Anything else. But only impressions of the sleek, warm body lying over his, breasts pressed into his chest, suffused him. He inhaled the scent of her thick hair spread over them, the smell of sex in the room. He waged a losing battle.
Struggling for an alternate plan, Derek decided he could keep her here by making love to her all night. After the second time, she might sleep again.
She moved, and all thoughts disappeared as a surge of hardness pounded below. In her sleep, Nicole squeezed his shoulder, gasping at the building pressure of him inside her. She soon awakened and wonderingly tilted her head up, blinking open her curious eyes.
She must have liked what she read in his expression, because her lips curled softly. Her upper body rubbed along his when she leisurely pressed down on him. He groaned again and lifted his head toward hers, taking her lips and tongue with his own, scalding her with a possessive kiss. She answered him, her mouth trembling and lush. As their tongues danced, her hips moved over him.
Chapter 21
H er daring in the face of Sutherland's killing looks astonished even Nicole. She had left him. Left him with nothing but a partially loosened knot.
"Nicole, don't you dare," he'd commanded, his voice low and menacing.
She'd explained that she had responsibilities to others. That it was her greatest wish to be with him for the time being. If she only had to look out for herself, she would stay, she'd told him, but she couldn't afford to trust him completely.
When she'd seen his reaction, seen his obvious difficulty masking his rage, she'd become afraid.
He bit out, "Where will you go? Who will take care of you?"
Take care of her? His questions had provoked her just enough for her courage to return. "With your money, I'll be able to take care of myself. Besides, I have friends in port who will give me a place to stay. Don't look for me. You'll never find me, and I believe it's for the best.... What good could come of this?"
That last comment angered him even more. His eyes had mocked her. "What good? Damn it, Nicole, what takes place between us doesn't happen with just anyone. If that's why you're leaving--because no good can come of this--then you're blind."
She'd told him in a small voice, "No, honestly, that's not the reason. Even though it's wrong, I very much want to...be with you again. I think spending the next few weeks in your bed would be like heaven."
He seemed to soften at her admission; she took that moment to run out the door.
The next two days of her life were as miserable as that last night had been incredible. Her nervousness that he or his crew might find her never relented. Worse, her undertaking forced her to walk among the rowdy sailors mingling on the docks. It was too warm to wear her bulky cloak, so she'd gone without. She didn't want to alarm herself, but it seemed as though men stared at her. She foolishly wondered if they could sense what she'd done. Could they see the change in her?
For all her discomfort, the time had been productive. She'd been successful in contracting with a captain to drop off a bank draft at the Cape. He would get it to a contact she had there, and she would, she hoped, have all their bets hedged. She'd also scratched off several letters to her father and Maria--even to her grandmother--and sent them through half a dozen different channels.
Nicole sat on the back of a dusty wagon, absently eating an apple she'd bought, trying to decide what to do. She'd reached a point where she didn't know if she could stay away from him much longer. Thinking about the night she left, the things they'd done...the things she'd done to him...she wanted more.
But it wasn't fair to herself or to him. He had no place in her future. It would have to end right when it began, and she didn't know if she could ever willfully walk away from him again.
Chancey would be here soon, if he had in fact been released after they'd sailed. He wouldn't leave her much choice in the matter. When she convinced herself that her future wouldn't be decided by her lack of willpower in dealing with Sutherland, but by an irate Irisher, she gave in. She had to take every second she could with Sutherland before they separated--if he'd take her back.
Decided, she flung the core into the water and began the long walk back to the ship. She hardly registered the brilliant setting sun or the dimming sound of the closing shops because she was so lost in thought. A memory from her fourteenth year kept surfacing insistently in her mind.
It was one of those days near the equator when the sky perfectly matched the flat sea and enveloped everything in a vast, blue ball. Becalmed and bored, she and the cabin boy had rigged a rope-swing halfway up the mast. She couldn't remember if it was her idea or his, but they'd pulled the swing over the water, and before her father could catch them, each had dived off from the sheer height. When she thought of Sutherland, she felt the same sharp feeling in her belly, as though she were plummeting straight from the sky. Wasn't that why they called it falling in love?
Oh, Lord, she did not need to be in love with Captain Sutherland.
She replayed her predicament. If he wanted her after the way she'd treated him, she would have to purposefully close herself off. Although she couldn't seem to resist his bed, she had to make sure she didn't lose her heart any more than she already had. She'd promised to marry when she got back, and suffered no illusions that a rake like Sutherland would be on her grandmother's list of desirables. Not to mention her father's hatred for the man.
When she at last reached the Southern Cross, it was nearing midnight.
"Thank the Lord you came back," said one of the three midshipmen on deck when she stepped aboard. They all looked especially glad to see her.
She raised her eyebrows. "You boys missed me?" she asked in greeting.
"We have. Cap'n snaps at us and barks his orders."
"It's because of you," another crewman finished with a solemn look. His companions were shaking their heads emphatically, and she had to smile.
"You worried the cap'n something fierce, Miss Lassiter. He ain't ate. Nor slept more than a couple of hours since you left. Go on, then." He gestured her past. "You know the way."
When she entered his room, the lights were low. He lay in bed, facing away from her, and appeared to be sleeping. The idea of snuggling close to his long, solid body had her flying out of her clothes. She should find a shirt to sleep in, but she didn't want to wake him. No, honestly, she simply wanted her skin to touch his. Quietly, she slipped in and eased up to him.
Just as she was about to lay her head on the edge of his pillow, he said, "I didn't know if you'd come back."
She hesitantly placed her hand on his arm. His body was rigid with tension. "I didn't know if you'd take me back."
He hadn't relaxed a fraction. Exactly how angry was he?
"I looked for you--I was worried about you being out there alone."
"Is that the only reason?" She moved her fingertips down his broad back.
He sucked in a breath when the muscles contracted. "No. I want you to stay with me." He turned to face her. "Here."
"I will for as long as I can," she replied truthfully, and he seemed to accept that.
He sat up, slowly pulling the sheet off her, tugging it over her nipples, already hard and sensitive, leaving her bare. She reached up to kiss him, but he pressed her down, petting her.
He smoothed her arm back over her head, then the other, skimming the undersides, down the sides of her breasts to her waist. When she shivered, he smiled. Then he brushed his lips across her collarbone, licking and lightly nipping before descending to her nipples. She wanted to cry from the sen
sations when he took one in his mouth and drew on it sharply.
He enthralled her, grazing his teeth against her, pushing her breasts together to lavish one, then the other. So much so that she barely perceived he was wrapping her wrists together with a piece of cloth.
When she did, she yanked away, straining to free her hands.
He merely laughed at her attempts. "We have a score to settle," he promised her, the words harsh. Moving over her in a predatory manner, he tightened her bonds before securing her to the bunk.
"Now, I'll have you." He returned his hands to her. They were rough and burning hot. "My way."
She had no idea what to expect from this man. What would he do to her? Alarm spiking through her, she fought against her bonds and bucked his hand away when he brushed it over her breasts again.
Sutherland continued to stroke her, rubbing his flat palm over her nipples. He changed positions, bringing his hard shaft against her leg and his skilled touch lower and lower, gentling her struggles. One hand pushed her legs apart while with the other he delved his fingers inside her.
Mindless. Teasing her inside, coaxing her wetter. Until he cruelly stopped.
His hands went to her breasts to hold them as he brought his mouth down. She raised her hips against him, searching for his giving fingers, but he ignored her. She'd been so close, and now she throbbed, on the verge of begging him to touch her again. She'd put him through this. Now she understood. He was merciless.
"Sutherland, please..." she whimpered.
"Call me by my name," he commanded in a low, heated voice. "I want to hear you say my name."
"Derek! Please..."
At last, he moved to place himself between her legs, but instead of pushing himself into her as he'd done before, he grabbed her bottom with splayed, clutching fingers and lifted her to his bent head. To his lips.
"I've wanted to taste you for months," he said just above her flesh, so close she could feel the heat of his mouth. Then he kissed her directly in the place she'd begged him with her body to caress, jolting her lower body off the bed, onto his waiting tongue.
