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For this, he would have sailed around the world—twice—to capture her so she could bring him to his knees and let him rise back up, unburdened.
He kicked his trousers free at their feet.
Hooking his arm under her leg, he pulled her knee to his mouth for a chaste kiss on the coarse cloth of her skirt. Now the fabric felt leaden, thick and suffocating for skin soft as hers. Much too rough.
He wasn’t quite sure how her clothing worked. This wasn’t the same dress of an English woman, which slipped off easily, only to reveal rigging underneath as well structured as the ropes holding the sails.
She sat up and reached behind, tugging her garments. She slipped the blouse over her head and removed her chemise after pulling it from her skirt. His jaw fell. Nothing tied underneath. Not a thing. Lightning flashed again, somehow only illuminating her breasts. Even though the burst lasted less time than a blink, the image of the white softness with pebbled peaks lodged in his mind. His body reacted with the same intensity of the storm.
Then she reached to the side of the skirt and undid a knot, and slid herself out. The thunder increased. The bursts of light showering the room must have meant he’d done something right in his life.
‘You are perfection,’ he whispered.
Leaning forward, he cradled her and swept her back to rest on the covers. Her eyes widened. She reached up and clutched his shoulders. The wind almost drowned out her whisper. ‘I am not a whore.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he reassured her. This time, he didn’t care who’d been before him. He was with her. ‘We are the only two people in the world. We must savour this.’ His fingertips traced the mark at her breast and he trailed downwards, over her nipple, and to her stomach and the curve of her hip.
When he bent to kiss her and let his hand rest at her thigh, she slid sideways with the ship’s movement and he followed the momentum, but didn’t let his full weight go against her. His bent knee rested over her, his foot pressed against the ledge that had once cradled his mattress. He reached up, holding the edge of the bunk to keep them from rolling back.
‘Are you hurt?’ he asked, his face resting against her hair.
‘No. Please don’t let me go.’
He had no intention of it. Nor could he have. She rested inside the crook of his arm. Her hand nearest the deck captured his shoulder, the other held his back.
When the ship lunged and she grasped, fingernails clenched at his skin. Instead of feeling pain at her fingertips, he ached for her. His cock nudged her thigh, pressed against her smooth skin.
The weather slammed the ship down and he held firm so they would not slide backwards. He hooked his heel inside the opening at the bunk, lodging his leg over the ledge that framed the base next to the deck planks. His hand was momentarily freed to trace the outline of her hip and, with her head still on his arm, he reached out to grip the base at the other end of the bunk. He was as comfortable as in a cradle. The waves rocked them.
He felt where her waist curved in and then let his fingertips trail downwards into the soft curls and the wetness beneath. She was ready.
But he wanted her more than ready. He wanted her gasps and cries and release. If they died in the storm, he wanted her to be pleasured first, more than she’d ever felt before.
He began a rhythmic caress while his mouth rested against her face, her neck and her hair.
Her teeth grazed his shoulder and her hands pinched into his back. She writhed and he felt his own pleasure bursting inside. He watched, mesmerised with the moment, until he knew she peaked, her gasps plunging desire into him so that his whole body burned an aching need for her.
Forcing himself to wait, he pulled his hand from her and gave her a chance to recover while he brushed his face against her, lips caressing her.
He tugged, sliding her so she could move above him. Both her hands went out, resisting movement.
Releasing her, he pulled back from the kisses. ‘Sweet. It might be better if you got on top. The waves. The hard bed.’
She breathed her answer. ‘No...’ Her disagreement registered in his mind, momentarily giving him pause. But only for less time than it took for lightning to flash.
Brushing his face against hers, he rose over her and gently lowered himself, entering her, and her fingernails plunged into his back, and she gasped.
Something forbidding flashed through his mind. An unease hit him. But the moment couldn’t be stopped or interrupted. He held the woman of his dreams, bodies bound together with intensity.
Carefully, he rocked into her, whispering tenderness against her ear.
