by Jayla Jasso
“Jolie, querida mía, I need to slide myself into you, sweetheart, if you are ready.”
She definitely was, but a moment of reality hit her. “Gabriel, I…I could get with child.”
Marcano pressed a kiss along her jaw line. “There is a way I can avoid impregnating you. But I will not take you now unless you wish.”
His erection pulsed against her aroused flesh, sending a flood of pleasurable tingling throughout her body. “Gabriel…yes,” she managed. “I wish.”
He lifted her slightly in order to settle her onto his shaft, watching her face as he pushed slowly into her tightness. She gasped a little as her body stretched to accommodate his generous size. She closed her eyes, embarrassed as he continued to study her, pushing gently up against the thin barrier of her virginity.
He paused to caress her back and hips with shaking hands, then cradled her head against his. “Jolie, it may cause pain for a moment, sweetheart, but I...I will try to make it go away as quickly as possible. Relax your thighs.”
She did, clinging to his neck. He held her hips steady with his hands and thrust up into her. She stifled a cry in her throat and clutched his neck tighter. He was just too big, and she became discouraged about being able to go through with it.
“Relax, querida...relax your legs and allow me to pleasure you,” he soothed, caressing her back and thighs.
She obeyed as best she could, and Marcano trailed his hand along the inside of her thigh to the place their bodies joined and began to stroke her sensitive folds gently with his fingertips. It felt heavenly, and soon began to distract her from the pain; after a moment she released a soft sigh of pleasure. He moved his hips beneath her, almost imperceptibly at first but then with gradually increasing pressure. With the gentle, sinuous movements of his hips and fingers, he built her need, and soon Jolie found herself pressing against him, moving with him as he ground himself up into her, guiding her hip with a strong hand.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he crooned huskily near her ear, still caressing her sensitive pleasure-point with his other hand. “Give it to me.”
Jolie felt spasms of intense, crackling heat center on her pelvis, then ripple outward throughout her entire body. “Oh, oh, oh!” She convulsed against Marcano, husky gasps escaping her throat. “Oh, God!”
Marcano groaned and lifted his hips completely from the chair seat, holding her firmly in place with his hands, head back, eyes shut as he began to take his own pleasure. She felt every muscle in his body tense and flex; after a moment, he withdrew quickly and spilled himself against her thigh, a hoarse moan escaping his throat.
He pulled her against his chest into his embrace and held her tightly, his breathing ragged. She buried her face against his neck and he stroked her hair, their breathing the only sound inside the cabin.
“Jolie, I am sorry,” he said after a moment. “I should not have taken you like this, on a chair, with my clothes and boots on. Dios.”
She smiled against his neck, her heart still pounding. “It was wonderful.”
He sat stroking her back and hair for another long moment, and then gathered her into his arms, stood up, and gently settled her on her feet.
“Let me undress and get my bath on the balcony. Then I will show you the way I have wanted to love you ever since I carried you on the back of my horse across Crab Island.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Guillarte peered through his spyglass over the dark expanse, then gazed up at the glittering stars. The sea was calm, and the brigantine sliced through the black waves, relentlessly pushing onward toward Puerto Rico. All was quiet, almost too quiet. They had just made off with a cargo rich enough for the king himself, without a scratch. The night sky was clear and beautiful, but the endless, undisturbed expanse of waves stretching out before the prow of the brigantine seemed ready at any moment to give way to something turbulent. Guillarte rested his booted foot atop the bottom railing of the balustrade. This tiny, nagging feeling of uneasiness would pass. He would simply keep diligent watch over the Amatista until it did.
#
Jolie washed up at the washstand, dressed in her silky nightgown, and then watched with intense interest through the bay window as Marcano tossed the bucket down the side of the brigantine and heaved it up full of water, the muscles in his arms flexing in the moonlight. She nibbled at her thumbnail and stared as he poured the water over his body, rinsing the soap from his gorgeously rippling muscles, then tossed the bucket down for another fill. After dousing himself one last time, he set the pail aside and began to dry himself with a towel.
Inside, Jolie wandered over to the trunk, rummaged through her things for her brush, and drew it quickly through her hair. That done, she clambered into his bunk to wait for him, pulling her gown down over her knees and hugging them to her chest.
The back door creaked open and Marcano stole inside, carrying his trousers and boots and clutching the towel about his slim hips. As he moved closer, she detected the clean smell of the soap on his freshly washed skin.
“Sitting alone in the darkness, querida?”
“I...like the dark.”
“You are shy now that you have had time to think about our intimacy, ¿sí? I will help you relax.” He chuckled and moved past her to put his things away in the armoire, then returned to stand near the bunk, the towel tucked securely around his hips.
Jolie scooted back a bit in the bunk to make room for him, watching as he slowly unwound the towel from around his waist and hung it on a nail. Her gaze was drawn down over the muscular planes of his torso, illuminated faintly in the dim moonlight, then slid lower to his groin and thighs. He stood still, allowing her to view his body at her leisure. When her eyes moved back up to his face, he was grinning, his white teeth visible in the faint light.
“I was only returning the favor from earlier tonight. Do you find me to your liking?”
She smiled. “If you recall, this is not my first time seeing you standing over my bed naked, Captain. I have always found you very much to my liking.”
“That makes two of us, then.” He chuckled, and Jolie noted how his lean abdomen muscles rippled with the movement. He continued to stand there, apparently quite comfortable with his naked splendor in her full view.
She giggled. “Would you please come here?”
“Your wishes are mine to carry out, princesa.” He turned and seated himself on the mattress beside her, sidling up close so that their legs touched. One of his hands curved over her gown-clad knee. “Tell me what else you wish.”
Jolie stared at his handsome, angular jaw and long, gorgeous mane of damp black hair. “I wish...to know if you really love me,” she ventured. “It seems too good to be true.”
“Don’t say anything more until you see what I have for you.” He got up and moved to the hook near the door where he had hung his coat, stuffing a hand into the pocket. When he returned to her side, he held a ring up between his forefinger and thumb for her disbelieving inspection.
She let out a gasp and cupped his hand in hers, glancing from the ring up to his face. “A ring?”
“It’s not much of a ring, but I am partial to amethysts…”
“It’s beautiful!”
Marcano smiled, looking relieved, and took her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. “Look at that. I hoped it would fit, and it does.”
Jolie gazed down at the lovely, marquis-cut purple stone, perfectly set in gleaming white gold. Tears stung her eyes. “This is the most wonderful gift anyone has ever given me.”
Marcano cupped her cheek and made her look into his eyes. “It is not just a gift. Accept the ring as a token of my love and devotion. And tell me if you will consider becoming my wife as soon as we reach Spain.”
The hopefulness in his voice caused her tears to spill over. Jolie circled her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his firm cheek. “Of course I accept the ring, Gabriel. As for becoming your wife, nothing in this world would make me happier!”
&n
bsp; Marcano pulled her fully into his arms and pressed his lips to her cheek, then buried his face in the curve of her neck. “Jolie, querida mía, I am truly a lucky man. I will spend the rest of my life making certain you never regret having made this choice, my love.”
“Regret, no, never,” she insisted, shaking her head. “That’s impossible. I love you, and I never want to leave your side, Gabriel.”
He held her in his embrace, caressing her hair, her back. Jolie’s heart pounded against his chest; she could hardly believe this was happening, that this brave, beautiful hero really had come to care for her, and wanted her to marry him! It was too much to absorb all at once.
Eventually, he drew back from their embrace to look at her, reaching up to stroke a few strands of her hair back from her face. “You are so beautiful,” he said, resting a hand on her ankle and slowly sliding the silky material of the nightgown up her calf along her sensitive skin. He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “What is your next wish, mi querida?”
She smiled. “You love me and want me to marry you. I don’t have anything else to wish for.”
“Then you feel I have nothing else to offer you, mi amor?” he teased, brushing the hem of the gown up over her knee, exposing it to his caress.
“I don’t know,” she murmured.
His breath fanned her ear again. “I assure you I have much more to offer. My hands, my lips, my tongue, my body…”
Jolie giggled breathily. “Oh, yes, those.”
Marcano moved his fingers up along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “Quickly, make a wish so that I can fulfill it.”
“Must I choose between your hands, lips, tongue, and body? I wish for all of them.”
“Your wish is granted,” he whispered hotly against her ear. He gathered her body in his arms and dipped his head to claim her mouth, tracing her lips with the tip of his tongue, pressing her soft curves against the hard planes of his body. One hand strayed down over her waist and hip, down the length of her thigh and back up again, then paused to cup her breast through the thin silk. Jolie shuddered, still not accustomed to such thrilling, intimate caresses from a man. This was nothing like Hauste’s disgusting groping. Marcano’s gentle, loving touch was like liquid fire pouring all over her body, and it created an intense yearning inside her for more, more, and yet more of him.
He kissed her until she was pleasantly dizzy, then tore his mouth from hers in order to taste her neck. His lips teased the sensitive flesh there, nipping and sucking gently until she squirmed. His hard erection pressed insistently against her thigh, filling Jolie with scandalous thoughts. To see that she had this effect on him was a joy all its own. He pulled her arms tighter around his neck and she clung to him as he shifted their positions, scooting under her and lowering himself onto his back on the mattress while placing her on top of him. She found herself lying atop his muscular legs and torso, her hair pooling onto his chest and shoulder. She could make out his handsome smile in the shadows, and his dark hair spread across the white pillow.
“Raise up a bit, querida, so I can remove your gown,” he urged, sliding the silky fabric up her thighs and hips.
Jolie straddled him and sat up, finding his shaft positioned at the crux of her legs, pulsing vigorously with life. He disentangled her arms from her sleeves and whisked the gown up over her head. When it disappeared over the side of the bunk, she tossed her hair back and squirmed atop him, rubbing against his erection.
“Mmm, be still, hermosa,” he groaned. “I am not ready to endure that sweet torture yet. You wished for my hands, lips, and tongue and you shall have them.” His hands stroked up her arms and pulled her down toward him so he could taste her lips again.
Jolie rested her torso on his chest and gave herself over to the seduction of his masterful kiss. She found herself glorying in the feel of her naked body pressed against his, knowing this moment was perhaps the most wanton of her life but also admitting she had long dreamed of doing all these things with a man who had her full love and respect. But her even her wildest erotic visions fell short of Gabriel Marcano. Here was a real, living, breathing, incredibly gorgeous man, and the urgent passion in his touch was both frightening and exhilarating.
With nothing to impede him from exploring every inch of her body, his hands strayed down to the backs of her thighs, caressing her there before gliding up over her naked derriere. His fingers moved higher to massage her back and shoulders under the fall of her hair, igniting a fire on her skin every place he touched. He reached up, gathered her hair in his hands, and drew it over one shoulder, raising his head to kiss the other shoulder and nuzzle the curve of her neck.
Then, without a word, he rolled her gently onto her back and covered her body with his. Jolie’s head sank back into the pillows as she stared up into his shadowy face. He avoided putting his full weight on her, resting himself on his elbows as he dipped his head to kiss her lips. He trailed a gradual, heated succession of kisses over her neck, shoulders, and chest until he reached her breasts. Jolie took a quick breath and held it as he hovered over one of them, his breath hot against her nipple. When at last his mouth made full contact, she arched up, moaning softly. His tongue stroked over her nipple several times before he sucked it into his mouth. Jolie grasped his muscular shoulders to steady herself as these new sensations swept her body. Soon his lips strayed toward her other breast; he also took that nipple into his heated mouth and sucked gently while she squirmed against him, luxuriating in his lovemaking.
By the time he moved lower to kiss her stomach, Jolie was a trembling mass of pure arousal. Protesting anything he was doing was the farthest thing from her mind; she was completely captive to his sensual kisses and skilled touch. Even so, it was a bit of a shock when she felt him bending her knees and easing them apart, then placing his warm mouth shockingly high up on the flesh of her inner thigh. She winced, surprised by the contact, and moved to sit up.
“Relax; lie still, hermosa niña,” he commanded in a thick, raspy voice. “Let me.”
When he again began to taste the private softness of her inner thigh, Jolie tried to obey the order to relax and sank back into the mattress, shivering. He moved his mouth back and forth over her heated flesh, allowing her to gradually become accustomed to this increasingly intimate invasion. He caressed her thighs and hips with his hands, forcing her legs wider and moving his lips even higher on the inside of her thigh. After a moment she felt his breath and then his lips gently brushing against the most intimate part of her, that part which was now aching for his touch. It was difficult to lie still, but he was pressing his lips to her so feather-lightly that she couldn’t protest and truthfully no longer wanted to.
Soon he was fully kissing her there, incredible as it seemed, open-mouthed, tongue and all. Men do this? And want to? This hadn’t been in Vera’s intimacies-with-men lecture, Jolie thought, stifling a gasp—no, several gasps. His powerful arm wrapped around the thigh of her bent leg, pinning her hips firmly to the mattress while his tongue stroked over her tingly flesh with maddening precision. She couldn’t help but writhe under him, gripping fistfuls of the sheets and arching up against him. He found the most intensely sensitive spot and teased it with his lips and tongue for a seemingly endless moment as something coiled up inside of her, something exquisitely pleasurable and excruciating at the same time. The coil wound so tight Jolie feared it would burst, and then it did. Her climax was like white-hot liquid flowing all through her, pleasure and sweet torture, miraculous and unspeakable all at the same time.
When she came back to earth, she heard him say, “Don’t move,” just before his mouth brushed hotly against her hip and then her lower abdomen. Jolie shuddered, wondering if there was any possible way he could surpass the ecstasy he had just given her, and afraid to even think it. He moved higher and closed his lips over a taut nipple, teasing it gently with his tongue for a moment before moving farther up to kiss her neck and jaw. Jolie wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him for dear l
ife.
“If you let me I will make it happen again,” he murmured against her cheek, stroking her hair. “Bend your knees, querida,” he commanded gently.
When she complied, he pushed her knees apart and lowered himself between them, dropping heated kisses across her breasts. Jolie arched herself rapturously beneath him, gripping his pelvis against her inner thighs. All she could think was how she wanted him inside her, wanted him to receive the pleasure he had just given her, if that were possible. He reached down with one hand to position himself, and then she felt his shaft rub against the spot that was still tingling.
She shuddered, gripped his hips with her thighs, and swallowed. “It feels like you are killing me,” she confessed, “with pleasure.”
“I know what you mean. It feels that way to me too.” He probed at her opening. “I will try not to hurt you this time,” he whispered, then sucked in a breath and entered her gradually, a bit at a time, cradling her hips in his hands. She felt herself warm and slick against his shaft, her body welcoming his invasion.
“Ay, Jolie, I need you…you feel so good,” he rasped against her neck. He thrust inside her more fully, the muscles in his back rippling under her hands, his breathing ragged.
Jolie groaned with the pressure but pushed up to meet him, wrapping her legs around his hips. She caressed his shoulders and neck, tangling her fingers into his damp, wavy hair. He reached down to stroke her with the fingers of one hand and began to move his hips rhythmically, moving his hand out of the way as he started making a sliding contact with her center of pleasure with each thrust. She strained against him, feeling the tension build inside her again. He moved against her sinuously, knowing exactly how to make the most of each movement, until she was clutching his flanks with her knees, moaning and arching beneath him, losing herself in his impassioned lovemaking.
“Oh! Oh, Captain Marcano, ohhh…” Her climax hit her suddenly, her vaginal spasms contracting violently around his shaft. He groaned and thrust deeply, shuddering, and then withdrew just as his release racked his body. He pulled her tightly into his arms and ground himself against her thighs until the warm fluid was spent, his labored breathing hot against her neck. She could feel the thudding of his heart mingling with hers against her chest.
