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Her legs, he felt one wrap around him and he forced himself to go slow, to savour. To let the riches of her body wash over him.
Now the ship seemed to smooth, to ease across the waters, and the storm raged inside—inside him. The waves rolled through his body, taking him on their skyward roll, their deepening depths.
‘Are you...’ He meant to ask her something, but his mind got lost in the feel of her and he could not form another full thought. She was everything at this moment—a world for him.
He tried to move a hand up to brush back her hair from her eyes, but he couldn’t. He could not let the ship control his movements. He had to be careful, gentle and not let himself plunder her, but show her the tenderness he felt for her.
‘Melina,’ he whispered. The sound of her name, even that increased the sensations. He could feel so much more of her. Not just where their bodies touched, but the way she breathed, the richness of her voice, all the things of her that made her who she was.
The room brightened briefly again and he saw her face clearly. The sight of her was too much. He could not last any longer for her, didn’t want to last any longer for her, because he wanted those seconds, the endless flashes of time where they were completely together, taking them into another realm of the world.
He released, but it was something different. A connection and blending of their bodies, holding close, melding together in just those heartbeats.
Moisture covered his body, as if he’d felt the rains and they’d cleansed him,
He pulled her against him, falling back with the ship.
When the room became silent—silent even with the storm mocking the tempest that had raged inside the cabin—Warrington’s mind hurdled ahead. Instead of a wash of satisfaction overtaking him—dread nudged the warmth into oblivion. His stomach churned.
He looked into the shadows of her face and slowly pushed himself to the side. Lightning still splashed through the window, but the storm no longer concerned him. She made a sound, no more than a sigh, but the illegible sound of settling in for a jaunt through her own thoughts.
The ship lunged and he reached out, not wanting her to be overwhelmed by the movement of the waves, and pulled her firm against his side.
‘Had you...before?’ he asked, hating the words. Dreading the answer.
She murmured, ‘No.’
She could not have understood what he asked. She could not have said what he heard. He spoke to the walls, letting his mind untangle the puzzle around him. ‘No one’s a virgin.’
He tried to examine her face in the flashes of light. He saw the truth. ‘How could—’
She scooted forward, pulling a bedcover over her. ‘I decided—for passage. I knew what I was doing. And tonight, I wanted to know...how you felt...’
‘I didn’t know, though. I didn’t know. You didn’t...tell me.’
‘Yes.’ Her brows bunched. ‘I said...something.’
He sat up, looking over his shoulder at her. He felt betrayed. How could he feel betrayed again—this time? ‘I thought you were a lightskirt.’
‘I told you I wasn’t.’
‘I thought you meant you weren’t a common whore. That you expected more... That you chose who you...’ He’d been misled again. He didn’t know what to think or do. She was not supposed to be an innocent.
‘I had to bed you or Stephanos, the man who controls Melos. We have leaders, but he is the one who has coin and the leaders do not cross him.’ She sat, pulled her knees up and put her chin on them. ‘I would choose anyone over Stephanos.’
He stared at her. Strength left him. He could barely keep himself from sliding with the ship.
‘But... You offered— I did not misunderstand you in the barn. I did not. You said...’ He heard the volume of his voice rise, embarrassing, and he regained control and pushed to his feet, unconcerned by his nakedness. He noted her quick intake of breath and jerk of her head when the lightning illuminated him. He reached to the washstand, bracing, and poured some water on to the flannel, then lodged the pitcher securely back to its base.
She could avert her eyes, close them or watch. He did not care.
He pressed the cloth to his forehead. ‘How could you be an innocent?’
‘Stephanos. Years ago, he put it about that if any man touched me, his family would be punished.’ She raised her voice. ‘I have no care for Stephanos. But unless I gave myself to him, I couldn’t marry. I didn’t mind not having the choice of another—but Stephanos decided he was tired of waiting. I was not.’
