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I might have triumphed, but I wasn’t sure I won. The energy had been bristling between us from the first moment on my ship when her naked body slammed into mine, and it has been tempestuous since.
That peculiar moment earlier when I caught her after she almost fell was like I had been stripped naked, my soul painfully exposed. At the same time, it felt like I was sinking inside her, engulfed by her, on the edge of the most consuming orgasm I could ever fathom. It was only a moment, the intensity so overpowering I felt like I was drowning in lava.
It scared the fuck out of me, made me want to run, get the hell away from her. Yet I kept finding myself next to her instead.
Katrina Roth was forbidden—a line I crossed but should never cross again.
It was what I told myself as I lowered down on the mat, the padding at least easing the harshness of the ground a little.
“Aren’t you going to be a gentleman and give me the mat?” She stood at the end, frowning. “And sleep on the ground?”
My eyes lifted to her, my voice deep, filled with implication. “When have I ever been a gentleman, Kitty-Kat?”
Her cheeks flamed, her eyes moving off me, and I knew her mind was going to that night. To the way I knotted my hands through her hair, tugging hard, driving deep into her over and over. How I made her cry out, her nail marks still carved into my back.
Clearing my throat, I tried to ignore my cock twitching awake. “Lay down and go to sleep.” I grunted the order.
She glared at me for a moment, the refusal right on her lips, but she let out a noise and dropped down, curling up on a mat away from me.
My fingers twitched, wanting to run through her silky hair. My body sought to move in around hers, pulling her tight against me.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
I didn’t “cuddle.” I didn’t stroke hair. As pathetic as Amara had me at one time, I never wanted to lie around in bed with her or spoon after sex. That was never me. That one night with Lexie before the battle was the closest I’d ever gotten to that kind of thing. Holding her was enough because I wasn’t ready to go further. In time, that might have changed, but I did have boundaries. Restraint.
Where the hell was that with Kat? I wanted to fuck her and hold her, kiss her, and play with her hair. I couldn’t count the number of times on this trip I almost grabbed her hand, cupped her face, kissed her, and even more when she was pissing me off.
Scrubbing my face, I tried to get myself in check. Annoyed and horny seemed to be my constant state around her.
Lying down, my back to hers, my eyes stayed on the slumbering man, my gun clutched in my palm. Heappearedold and harmless, a lonely man hungry for company, but in this world, you learned to not take anything as it seemed.
Usually I could pick up on lies, especially from humans. He showed no sign of falsehood when speaking about the nests. If he led us to them, it was the most likely spot the nectar would be near or hidden in. We had to hitch our wagon to him for the moment, though I wouldn’t let my guard down.
I had done that once. Trusted. Didn’t see what was coming. And I lost everything.
Water cascaded down, and a scream stuck in my chest. I could hear the crashing of waves, the gunfire, and clanks of swords, but everything felt frozen in time. Someone hit the pause button on life.
Lowe sank the blade into Rotty’s chest, his body stilling, his eyes widening with something beyond fear, like grief or regret.
“Noooo!” The cry bellowed from my chest, my legs already launching me forward in fury as Rotty’s body tumbled to the ground.
Wood groaned from deep within the bowels, and the ship tipped further, sailing me away from my target. Landing hard on the deck, my body slid, knocking into the side, water crashing down on me.
Spitting and shaking the water off, I searched for Lowe, my blood boiling with the need to kill.
The wave had tossed him back onto the main deck, yards away from me. Getting to his feet, he swayed as the ship teetered. Sinking farther under, he looked back at me.
“It’s fitting how the illustrious Silver Tongue Devil goes down into a watery grave.” A malicious smile grew over his lips. “One thing about betrayal—it never comes from your enemies. It’s always those who are closest to you.” With those words, he turned around and jumped on the railing, the ship groaning with its death throes. Lowe tipped his hat and leaped off the side. Below, his men were waiting in rowboats, ready to take their master back to the comforts of their sound ship. His men followed their leader overboard, knowing the fate of this dying vessel.
“Abandon ship!” I bellowed through the windy rain. There was no difference between the sea and sky, both engulfing us, taking us down to a watery grave.
“Captain?” I heard Scot shout, waving me to follow. “Hurry!”
We all knew any dinghy had to be well away from a sinking ship, or the power of it would tug everything down with it, like pulling a bath plug.
“Go! Go!” I motioned for the ones who were still alive to leave. The dead bodies of over half my crew were being washed back and forth on the deck like ping-pong balls. Out of my periphery, I saw Master Yukimura’s smaller frame in his familiar haori jacket slide past me.
Agony bubbled under my skin, but numbness kept me from acknowledging the grief, not wanting to know who was dead. Who I failed.
