He had to stop staring at her. But he couldn’t help it. Soft blush cheeks and the warm embrace of her smoldering gaze kept him prisoner. Even the scent of her inspired him with carnal thoughts.
The need for a mate gnawed at him. He’d not mated when he should have, and Luísa’s proximity reignited the primal urge.
A woman had been selected for him, a werewolf like himself, but he had no conscious desire for her, except for the savage ache that drove all of them. Luísa was different. He wanted her, needed her—not as a wolf, but as a man.
His common sense told him not to threaten the only chance he had to save his sister’s soul, but the animal side of him, the part that knew only passion, wanted this woman beneath him. The hairs on his hands grew incrementally.
Luísa came toward him with a fine china cup and weak tea. Her eyes seemed to see through him, perhaps preferring that to acknowledging his nakedness.
“What’s it like,” she said. “Being a wolf?” She sat at his side, student to his every word. There was an eagerness in her voice and the need to know. She picked up a soiled rag and scraped at the crusted blood on his arm. “Does it hurt to change?”
“A little. You get used to it.” The rag skimmed across the hair on his arms, teasing it with a delicious itch. Harder, Luísa. Harder.
“It must be lonely—living like that.” She paused her ministrations, and her breaths grew shallow, suddenly aware of her proximity to him.
“There are more of us than you know. We live among the common folk every day, though I dare say, we keep our distance. We’re in no hurry to meet the hangman’s noose.”
Daltry put down his tea then took her hand, pressing it gently against his chest. Her touch—even through the cloth—seared him, and yet he couldn’t bear to let her go. “Do I still frighten you?”
Her gaze flitted to the floor and then the hearth, everywhere but to him. “That depends. You don’t plan on changing into a beast right now, do you?” She tried being flippant, but it only served to make her look more self-conscious.
Daltry rubbed a callused finger along her chin. “There are many different types of beasts, kitten. Not all of them dangerous.”
She lifted her eyes hesitantly. Instead of censure, she wore a look of puzzlement. Her lips parted, anticipation and fear lacing her expression.
She saw through him, he was sure of it, but she didn’t understand the wildness inside. A virgin. This girl, a child who had seen the world in all its rawness, was as lost as a lamb. And now this lamb lay within reach of a wolf.
He leaned toward her and inhaled her fragrance, lifting her face until their lips were a breath away from each other. He nuzzled her and felt her stiffen when he pulled her into his arms.
For a moment, she refused to speak, even to breathe, hanging on to one heartbeat.
“Xander,” she whispered.
“Don’t be afraid, Luísa. This wolf won’t hurt you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Luísa shut her eyes, hoping he couldn’t see her obvious need. “What are you doing, Capitán Daltry?” Her voice sounded so husky she thought it belonged to someone else.
What was she thinking? She simply couldn’t give herself to this man, no matter how great the craving.
He hadn’t done more than rub his nose against her face, and yet it felt as if she had been laid completely bare to him. Could he tell that her body lusted for his? Could his kind read her heat the way animals did?
His voice resonated against her skin, and she felt more than heard him. It hadn’t been easy living on a ship full of men. Men—no, brothers who went off to brothels and other lovers whenever they made port.
Luísa had been left behind to quell her need in other ways, submitting to her own fingers when the need overwhelmed her.
But this—this was different.
She grazed her fingertips across his lips and felt him shiver. Or was that her?
His back pressed against the wall, Daltry spread his legs and cradled her between them. She felt his rod thicken from beneath the thin blanket.
God forgive her. Could she go through with this? After all this time of wanting to be with a man, was she ready for what came next? She wasn’t even sure what next was.
She was no stranger to what men did with themselves in privy. She’d once caught Dooley pleasuring himself and felt ashamed to have been spying. He may have been a boy, but his Jolly Roger bloomed to the size of a twelve pound mallet, and he stroked it until his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he spurted his wad all over the floor. Dooley groaned when he came, sending Luísa into a frenzy of her own. The look on his face made it look glorious and painful all at once.
Daltry pulled her attention back to him. He held her against his chest and breathed into her ear. “Do you trust me?”
Luísa rolled her eyes at him. “No,” she said in a hoarse whisper.
He laughed. “Smart girl. But I’ll go slow, luv. We don’t have to hurry this.”
“Xander,” she said as her face grew hot. She was breathing fast, partly from terror, but the other part from thrill. “What happens when we…you know?”
“Well, kitten. The first thing we need to do is get these clothes off.” He ran a thick finger down her arm. “And then I get you wet.”
“Sink me. Why do I need to get wet for that?”
Again he laughed. “Not that kind of wet, silly.” He kissed her on the shoulder. “A different kind of wet, the kind between your legs.”
“Oh,” she said, embarrassed. “I don’t think we have to worry about that.”
“Is that so?” His hand glided up her thigh and then to the laces on her breeches, pawing the top knot until it unraveled, then loosening the laces all the way down.
Luísa thought she would faint of embarrassment. She slapped his hands away then scooted off him and toward a corner. “I can’t, Xander. Papa will kill me.”
He laughed softly as if her protest was daft. “Papa isn’t here,” he crooned. He ripped the blanket off him and crawled toward her, caging her with his body.
He was in human form, but even now he moved like a wolf, slow, confident and masterful. His erection jutted out of him like a compass point, marking her as his final destination.
Daltry knelt in front of her and leaned in to kiss her.
It was a soft kiss, nothing at all what she expected, and it warmed her mouth with courage. She kissed him back.
“You seem to like kissing.”
She nodded. “It’s very nice—with you.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? So you’ve had others.”
“There was a young man two years ago who kissed me in a crowded market in Tangier. He was a very good kisser,” she said with as much authority as she could muster.
“I see. And what happened to this lover?”
Luísa blanched and shrugged her shoulders. “Paqua caught him kissing me and ordered the crew to tar and feather him.” She sighed in exasperation. “I couldn’t get another man to look at me the rest of the time we were in port.”
Daltry kissed her throat and worked his way up to her lips, all the while his hands roaming her body, gently teasing her with warm caresses. “Then it seems I risk a greater hell with what I have planned for you.”
Luísa giggled in spite of herself. She ought to be drowned in bilge water. She let out a breath, not realizing she had held it in. “I don’t wish you any hells, Xander.”
He pursed his lips into a roguish smile. “Good,” he whispered. “Because I plan to show you heaven.”
Daltry unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it off her shoulders. His hands slid down the bare skin of her arms, coveting her as if she were treasure. The breeches came off next. He tugged them off with such delicious slowness that it was painful to wait. She was ready to strip to skin of her own accord. Only the fear of the unknown kept her chaste.
She knelt before him in nothing more than the stolen chemise, the silk tidings of a plunder she scarcely recalled. But now, reve
aled to him in this soft wine shift, a chemise so diaphanous it kept no secrets from him, she wondered what gifts the previous owner had bestowed.
Daltry’s eyes took his fill of her, examining every inch, devouring her with a hunger that looked unquenchable.
He had given her a chance to stop him at any time. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. She was ready to sin and enjoy it.
Was this the wicked pleasure her brothers on board the Coral felt? No wonder they bolted ship whenever they made port. She would’ve done the same.
Papa would kill Daltry if he ever knew—then he’d lock her in a convent all the rest of her days.
She didn’t care. It was worth any punishment just to taste this demon’s lips on her skin.
Daltry drifted his hands over her breasts, the sheer fabric no deterrent to his touch. She shivered as his fingers circled her nipples, pinching them lightly until they bloomed into hard peaks.
She wanted to touch him the way he touched her, but she was still afraid. Blast her inexperience. He probably thought her dim and flawed for not reciprocating.
He said nothing, but continued his machinations, easing her out of her shift, naked for all the world to see.
She drew her knees up toward her chest, locking her legs together as if that would stop him.
He said nothing, allowing his hands to do his talking. With slow determination, he parted her knees and tickled the curly fur at her crotch. She scooted backward, but there was nowhere to go. Gentle fingers nursed her until she accepted him.
“Dios mío!” she gasped. No one had ever touched her there. She wanted to close her legs again, but he dipped a finger between the lips of her vulva and swirled it around in the heady juices of need.
The stories she’d heard were never like this.
“What are you doing to me?”
He smiled, but never took his hands off her.
“Relax, Luísa. I’m only testing your readiness.”
“How will you know that?” she said in a small voice.
He pulled his soaked finger out of her and slipped it into his mouth, kissing his fingertip when he drew it out. “I’ll know, luv. You’re ready now.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded toward his cock, sporting a magnificent erection.
“Ay, no! I-I don’t think I can do this, Xander.”
“Of course you can.”
“No. No, I can’t. Truly. You’re too big.”
He grinned. “Well, thank you, milady. I am rather proud of it.” He laughed, stroking the swollen head.
Luísa couldn’t take her eyes off his cock.
“Have you never touched a man’s rod?”
“Of course not!” she said, insulted.
“Then this will be your first lesson.” He took her hand and placed it over his thickened member. “Don’t be afraid. Touch me.”
Timid fingers reached out for it, smoothing down the throbbing rod that seemed to beat with a life of its own.
“More,” he ordered. “Don’t stop.”
She obeyed.
It was big and hard, but surprisingly smooth and almost velvety. She grasped it with renewed pluck, grazing along its sides and the ribbed cap at the crown. He groaned when she pulled the foreskin down and squeezed. A clear drop of fluid bubbled out of the tip.
During her time on the Coral, she’d seen a few of the men pleasure each other by sucking each others’ cocks. Papa would’ve thrown them to the sharks had he known, but Luísa had said nothing, preferring to watch, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Would it please Xander if she did the same for him?
She placed both hands at the base of his cock and rode them up, netting a long gratifying groan from Daltry. His eyes closed and he leaned back, servant to whatever she offered him.
Luísa peered up at him once more as she trained her hands up and down his shaft. With his head tilted back, she made her bold move. She tested him by leaning down and licking the rim of his cock.
He bolted upright, startling her. “Jesus, woman! What are you doing to me?”
Luísa retreated in haste. Had she done something wrong? “Don’t you like it?”
“Yes, luv. Careful you don’t send me overboard though. I’d rather my cock be inside you.”
She shrugged, not fully understanding his meaning. Did he mean inside her mouth, or inside… Luísa shuddered. She might fit him in her mouth, but she was certain he’d never fit down there. In case he meant the latter, she thought it best to distract him with the alternative.
She flicked her fingertips across the top of the head and ordered him to sit back. When he complied, she bent her head over his shaft and opened her mouth. It loomed bigger than she expected and she hesitated, licking the bulbous head and making him quiver like a blade of grass in the breeze.
With all the courage she could muster, Luísa took him as far down as she could. Except for his rigid staff, Daltry seemed to dissolve into a boneless mass and he sat there obediently while she mimicked the men she had once spied upon.
A salty taste prickled inside her mouth and she withdrew. Not wanting to offend, she tried again, but Daltry stopped her.
“Enough, luv, or you’ll have me spent before I’ve made you a proper woman.” He cupped her chin and smiled. “I won’t ask where you learned to do such a thing, but I think you catch on quick. Time for you to learn something new.”
He pressed her to the mat and lay next to her, giving himself full access to her body. Daltry started at her breasts, kneading one handful while his mouth tortured the other one with sweet ecstasy.
Luísa gasped. She’d never felt such a sensation, and the excitement welled up in her belly. Moisture dripped down her thighs in rivulets.
His hands roamed lower until one of them reached between her legs and rubbed the foamy fluid along her privates. Once more he pushed his finger inside her and she moaned. If a finger barely fit, how would the rest of him manage? He’d tear her apart for sure. Her legs clamped tight.
Daltry sensed her apprehension at once, and he cooed in her ear, all the while teasing the juncture between her legs until she granted him access.
Luísa’s skin flushed with heat, and she grew giddy with the swell of butterflies in her stomach. Everywhere he touched sent waves of tingles. She ached for more. More kisses, more tongue, more of his long caresses down her thighs.
Somehow, she knew he had to be inside her. It was the way of things and she wanted it to happen.
Luísa’s breath came in short gasps. Her eyes widened, trying to take in everything that was happening to her. She wanted to sear every single moment in her brain. She pulled his hand from between her legs and then grasped him by the cock.
He froze, staring at her with the intensity of a preacher on a pulpit. His cock throbbed in her hand, and she noticed his eyes narrow into glowing amber lanterns.
Did she do something wrong? Was he turning on her?
Man or wolf, she still wanted him. She didn’t let go, guiding him instead to the entrance of her maidenhead.
She’d heard the crew natter about deflowering virgins, punching each other with typical male bravado at how their enormous cocks burst their lovelies into hysterical little kittens.
Suddenly, Daltry’s body seemed far more menacing.
She tried to wiggle from under him, but he wouldn’t let her go.
He kissed her, bruising the crook of her neck with a firm buss and a heady whisper that seemed to vibrate straight to her bones. “Too late to change your mind now, luv.”
“Xander…” She hesitated then gulped. What had she gotten into?
No more words passed between them. Daltry guided his cock between her legs, rubbing it against her woman’s entrance, and forcing her to lose control again. One hand braced himself above her, the other tormented her flesh with masterful strokes. He kissed her, holding her mouth captive and stoking the fire that set her on this course.
She kissed him back, tears streaming down her cheeks because she couldn’t ho
ld the need back any further. His tongue flicked inside her mouth, right before he impaled her, splitting her open like a ripe apricot.
Holy Mother of God! She tried to scream, but his mouth pressed against hers, and she lay trapped beneath his body.
No amount of shoving could get him off her, and he rocked into her body with steady strokes, never pulling out completely.
It burned! It felt as if someone had parted her with an iron pike, raking her insides with a fullness that seemed unbearable. She squirmed to no avail, and he kept fondling her, deliberately trying to take her mind off the pain.
Slowly, and she didn’t know how, the pain was replaced with a different sort of ache. She was getting used to his size, and she noticed that each thrust sent shivers of ecstasy pulsing through her like a trail of lightning strikes.
Her mouth opened, caught in little gasps of awe and welcome. God forgive her. This was beginning to feel good.
Daltry increased the speed of his strokes, and somehow she felt him swell even larger, making her feel him in reaches she didn’t think possible.
“Oh, God, yes!”
Something shattered inside her and she met his thrusts with her own. Luísa screamed when a wash of rapture overwhelmed her. It felt like being on the bow of the Coral, the wind so brisk, she thought she could fly. Just like now.
Daltry’s breath grew ragged. His strokes became faster, mad to find the same paradise he had given her. She was ready for another go and urged him to come with her.
He succumbed to her eagerly and plowed into her like a man possessed, his face soaked with sweat, his eyes closed in willing surrender. He seemed to hold one brief moment of consciousness when he opened his eyes to look at her.
Regret? Pain? She couldn’t be sure, but the next thing she knew he was trying to pull away. Was he mad?
Luísa refused to release him and clawed at his back to keep him tied to her. She bit his ear, forcing him to listen. “Come with me,” she ordered in a gruff whisper.
That was all he needed to hear, and his strokes drove them both to completion. He yelled a hoarse cry and then collapsed on top of her.
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