Page 42 of If I Go Down with This Ship

“Sorry,” I mumble as I find his lips once more.I only faintly recall where I found these clothes and who they belonged to before me.My mind is foggy with want.

It’s impossible to think of anything buthim.

We stumble toward the bed, him steering and me following, Captain Night the leader even in the act of kissing, and when I settle onto the edge of the bed, his other hand finds my hip, nudging me backward on the mattress before he straddles my lap.His hands never leave my face, his lips never stop on mine, as eager for me as I am for him.

In seconds, my shirt is untucked, and a thumb brushes across my stomach, sending a flurry of shivers over my skin as it drags down to the waistband of my pants.I hesitate for a moment, but not for long, because he breaks the kiss and tilts my head back, seeking the tender place just below my ear.And god, he is bliss.I don’t want this to end.Years.I have been searching foryearsfor someone who can make me feel like he does.Someone who can make me feel appreciated, welcomed.

Wanted, wholly and completely.

His lips dip down to my throat, gently nibbling.I groan, rocking my hips against his, seeking the bulge in his pants.His fingers tug on my hair in response, making me gasp and open my eyes.

“Is this all right?”he asks against my skin.

“Better than all right.”

I take in a shaky breath, pausing to admire him.The brush of dark hair sweeping over me as he bends farther still and wraps his hands in the fabric of my shirt, his teeth scraping over my collarbone, the flutter of his eyelashes on my skin.The hungry, almost pained expression on his face as he presses a string of kisses to my chest.

I blink away the haze, the cloud of lust that seems to filter everything I’m seeing, and zero in on that spot of blue across the room.My hands freeze in his hair, my breath coming out in a bigwhoosh.

Do I even want to return home?Do I have to?Or could I just stay with him, here, now, being held like this, forever?Wantedlike this?

He pushes against my shoulder, and the thought escapes me as I fall back with a soft exhale, my hands going to his hips, my nails digging into his skin.My fingers find the knots of a scar, a gunshot or a stab wound, and my thumb brushes across it as he works his way down my neck.His hard length is against my thigh, and before I can make a quip about his pistol pressing against me through his pants, his lips travel farther, his tongue tracing a path down my body, and I sink with him, his touch tugging me beneath the surface and silencing me.

Heat rolls off him, his chest pinning me down, his hair fanning out around us, and all I can smell is him.It’s that dizzying, heady scent of his that makes it difficult to focus on anything else.

I don’t want this to stop.I don’t want him to look at me any differently.I want him to continue seeingme, to continue looking at me as if I am his everything.

Continue kissing me like I’m his everything.

I try to forget about the coat, to let myself stay in the here and now, in this moment of falling so completely, but it’s no use.

It takes every ounce of willpower I have to lift my hands from his hips.He raises his head in question, and I’m ready to push him away, to tell him the truth, when someone knocks on the door.He glances over his shoulder, his hair brushing my face.My chest rises and falls rapidly as I struggle to catch my breath.

“Yes?”he calls.

He presses a hand to my mouth when I go to speak, and I can’t help it, I take one of his fingers in my mouth and suck, biting gently.His eyes widen, lips parting in surprise.Why am I like this?Why can’t I stop even when I’ve thought of betraying him, of betraying this?

His hair is mussed, and I want to tug him back down, to ignore the person on the other side of the door, ignore the blue coat that is my ticket back to London.Give myself this much.

There is a beat of silence, and I think for a moment we imagined it, but then a familiar first mate’s voice calls through the door, “We found something, Cap’ain.”

Captain Night cups my cheek and kisses me on the lips softly before he climbs from my lap and crosses to the doors, opening them to peer out.“What is it?”he asks gruffly.

“We ’ave a lead, Cap’ain.”

“I’ll be there in a moment,” he tells Jack.

I struggle to sit up and smooth down my hair as he closes the door.There’s another awkward beat of silence as we stare at each other.

We’re both out of breath, pieces of us still caught up in the kiss, in those long, heated minutes.And I know that there’s nogoing back.For some inexplicable reason, ever since I arrived on his ship, this was inevitable.

We are inevitable.

But there are things to do, places to be, and he is a captain above all else.He tears his gaze from me, hands rubbing roughly at his jaw before dropping down as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself.Finally, he nods to me as though we’ve just signed a business deal, and sir, what have I agreed to?

I open my mouth to ask, but he disappears behind the screen, returning in a crisp off-white shirt.This one is practically new, the sleeves and fabric creased as if it’s been folded and hidden away in a chest.

There’s more fabric balled in his hand, and he tosses it to me.I catch it, holding up dark pants and a shirt not too dissimilar from the one he is wearing.