by Merry Farmer
Her invitation was apparent, and he wasn’t about to send his regrets.
Replacing his fingers with his tongue, he proceeded to tease her womanhood with the tip of it. Delighting in her soft gasps and mewls of pleasure, he worked his tongue into the tight, wet space his cock was desperate to invade.
Fighting every thought of taking her virtue, Blake concentrated on bringing her to the edge of ecstasy. Concentrated on her thighs and how they pinned his head between them. Concentrated on how her body bucked beneath his hold.
And then, when he was sure she could take no more, he laved his tongue across her swollen womanhood.
Once.
Twice.
There was no third time. Barbara seemed to break apart beneath him, her once-rigid legs falling to the sides so her thighs were exposed to him. He took the opportunity to suckle each one for a moment, grinning when her mewling changed to an occasional whispered ‘yes.’
When he was sure she’d had enough, Blake made his way back up her body, dropping kisses on her wrists and on the insides of her elbows. When he heard her giggle, he buried his head just above her breasts and allowed a long sigh.
Her fingers speared his hair, and he growled as her nails scraped his scalp and sent skitters of delight down the back of his neck. “You minx,” he accused in a whisper.
Her hands stilled. “Is that... good? Or... bad?” she asked in a whisper.
Reluctantly, Blake lifted his head from her chest. “Good for me. Bad for your virtue, surely.”
She grinned and returned her fingers to his hair. “Will you take my virtue?”
Nodding, because now there was no way he would allow anyone else to do so, Blake said, “I will, but not on this night. Not until I know for certain you are mine.”
The words seemed to appease her, although he knew disappointment had settled over her. “Are you aware that once we are betrothed, I am at liberty to bed you?”
Barbara lifted her head, her disappointment replaced with hope. “You are?”
“I cannot believe I am saying this, but yes,” he acknowledged. “Perhaps we can marry by special license, so you don’t have to wait so long.”
“You won’t have to wait so long, either,” she countered, a hand moving to cup the rigid member behind the placket of his breeches.
Blake jerked and groaned in response, his eyes closed lest he give in to his baser instincts. “True. So true.”
They lay in companionable silence for a time, sleep nearly claiming them both.
“You’ll sleep here tonight, of course,” he murmured. “I don’t expect we’ll make it back to London until early morning.”
“And then what will happen?”
Blake frowned and tightened his hold on her. “I’ll escort you to Parkenhurst House, of course. Explain to your father what happened, and give him the money.”
“Is that all?”
He sighed. “I’ll ask his permission to court you.”
“And then?”
Sighing, Blake lifted his head from her chest and allowed a brilliant smile. “Then I shall file a report with my superior—I’ll have to detail the events of this day—”
“All of them?” she asked in alarm.
“Well, all but those of the past hour or so,” he replied. “Do not worry. I will keep you a secret, at least with my men.”
She seemed to think on his words a moment. “Do you own this vessel?”
He shook his head. “I do not. I merely... captain it when we’re sent on...” He sighed again.
Her brows furrowing, Barbara regarded him for a moment. “You’re not really a pirate. But if you’re not, then who sent you to find me?”
“Can you keep a secret?”
Barbara’s eyes widened in delight. “Oh, I can, yes.”
Blake nodded. “Well,” he whispered as he offered her his right hand. “Blake Russell, Foreign Office.”
She awkwardly shook his hand as understanding filled her eyes. “You were sent to find me?” Her head fell back on the pillow, as if she was offended.
“Trust me when I say I would have come after you even if I wasn’t duty-bound to do so,” he replied, hoping she wasn’t disappointed. Perhaps she had been thinking he had been tracking her ever since she had disappeared from the ball the night before.
“So, if you’re not a pirate—”
“I am the captain of a ship that pursues pirates and privateers, smugglers and such.”
“Go on,” she urged.
“I report to Lord Chamberlain, and the Molly is the property of the British Navy. Our mission is to capture smugglers, mostly, but occasionally I have to take on some rather unusual assignments, like this one.”
“Hmm.” She was quiet for a time. “And if we do marry, what will you do for a living?”
Blake thought of the discussion he’d had with Nelson earlier that morning.
Had it really only been that morning? The day seemed to have gone on for weeks.
“I think it might be time for me to consider a different living,” he murmured. “Something a bit more land-based. Or more regular.”
He couldn’t believe what he was saying. He remembered feeling sorry for Alex Bradley, in that the former ship’s captain was now piloting a desk in Horseguards.
“Won’t you miss captaining a ship?” Barbara asked in a faint whisper. The cabin had grown dark with the sun having set, and without a candle lamp, the room was blanketed in dark grays.
“Possibly. But if I know I have you to come home to every day, I shall not mind so much.”
Silence stretched for a time, and Blake thought perhaps Barbara had finally fallen asleep. About to lift himself from the bed to dress and return to the wheelhouse, he was prevented from doing so when she tightened her hold on him.
“My father is considering the purchase of some ships,” she whispered. “Merchant ships, much like the Tuscan.”
Blake blinked. “He is?” After listening to Nelson list all the properties Sir Peter already owned, Blake supposed he shouldn’t be surprised the baronet wanted to increase his holdings.
“He’ll need captains, of course,” she hinted.
“But, I don’t think I could bear to be away from you for weeks at a time,” he reasoned.
Barbara shifted beneath him. “Perhaps I could... come along.”
“You would do that?” Blake sat up and stared down at her. In the dark, he could barely make out her milky white skin against the dark blanket on the bed.
“I would. I tend to get seasick, but I haven’t noticed it so much since I’ve been aboard this ship,” she said, a hint of surprise in her voice.
“Probably because I’ve been keeping your mind off of it,” he teased. He lowered his lips to hers. If only they could simply sail away. Enjoy one another’s company by day and spend their nights making love under the stars. “I’ve a mind to stay with you all night.”
He heard her slight hum and grinned when she said, “Then do so. I will not mind a bit.”
Kissing her one last time, Blake sighed and dropped his head to her shoulder. When he was sure she was asleep, he slid off of her body, covered her with a blanket, and took his leave of the cabin.
Perhaps a discussion with his first mate would talk some sense into him.
Discussing a First Mate’s Possible Mate
Meanwhile
Turned around and headed back toward English shores, the Molly barely made any headway given the strong head winds.
“This may be one of those twenty-hour crossings,” Nelson groused from where he stood at the wheel.
Fitz allowed a shrug. Given the events of the day, he didn’t want to see it come to an end this soon. The sailing master had watched in wonder as their captain had rescued the pink-gowned maiden from the kidnapper. Marveled at how members of the crew had joined together to escort the baron to the brig and see to it he was made as uncomfortable as possible. Enjoyed the camaraderie as his mates ate supper and drank ale.
He still couldn’t believe he had challenged the captain for command of the ship just two nights ago. How could he have been such a fool, even in a drunk state? “I don’t think the captain minds if it takes a week to get back to London,” he said in response.
Nelson gave him a quelling glance. “You know what this means?”
His brows furrowed, Fitz gave a shake of his head. “Captain’s not going to give up command of the Molly. Even if he gets the girl. And given her father’s one of the richest men in all of London, I doubt he’ll be allowed to marry her,” the sailing master reasoned.
Rather impressed by Fitz’s response, Nelson glanced in the direction of the captain’s quarters. Blake and the young woman had been in there—without an escort—ever since they had left the Tuscan.
The details of the kidnapping would be kept a secret, or at least as much of one as was possible given the crew of the Tuscan knew as much as anyone on the Molly, so Miss Wycliff’s reputation wouldn’t suffer.
If she spent much longer in Blake’s cabin, she would be thoroughly ruined, though. Perhaps that was his captain’s plan. Ruin Little Bo Peep so her father would have to agree to allow him to marry her.
The scoundrel.
Nelson gave a shake of his head. They had just had a discussion about not getting married. How could so much change in only two days?
With Lord Dorchester locked in the brig below deck and Miss Woodcock in Calais, her only possessions a couple of his shirts, two dead fish, and a sack of potato peelings, Nelson knew there was nothing else to be done until they reached Wapping.
He thought of the missive from Lord Chamberlain and finally allowed a grin. “We’ll have a decent payday from this run,” he said, hoping the promise of blunt would be enough to satisfy his captain if he didn’t get the girl.
“Truth be told, I’d almost do this for nothin’,” Fitz replied, his attention aimed north. “Long as I have a place to sleep and food to eat.”
Nelson blinked. “Well, ain’t you a model sailor?” he teased. But he understood the young man’s sentiment.
And then a thought of Miss Woodcock had his own cock threatening to rise.
He gave his head a shake. What the hell? She wasn’t what he found the least bit appealing, so why did thoughts of her come unbidden? Especially when she had turned out to be a thief?
“You’re thinking of that lady’s maid again, aren’t you?” Fitz teased.
Nelson immediately leaned forward in an effort to hide the bulge that was growing in his nether region. “Am not.”
Fitz didn’t even try to hide his smirk. “She was smitten with you,” he countered. “Said she used to know you back when you were a pickpocket, and the two of you used to work the crowds at the pleasure gardens.”
His eyes widening in alarm, Nelson lifted his finger to his lips. “Don’t be spreading those lies,” he warned.
Fitz merely rolled his eyes. “She said you would say that. She was impressed by how far you’ve come. Said she had to struggle as a maid for a long time ’afore she was able to get hired on as a lady’s maid. Only because her mistress isn’t some diamond of the first water. So she was really scar’t when Miss Wycliff was taken. Thought she’d be out of a position. So I guess I’m as surprised as anyone she would choose France over coming back with us to England.”
Nelson pretended like he was only half-listening to what the sailing master had to say. “How much time did you have to spend in her company to learn all that twaddle?”
“No more than half-hour. Right nice woman, she was. Might have to keep her in mind in case I decide to give up the sea.” He watched the first mate, expecting a reaction.
He wasn’t disappointed.
“Now see here, you fool. The woman was a thief,” Nelson argued.
“Yeah. Stole yer heart, she did,” Fitz countered.
Reeling at the sailing master’s words, Nelson was about to put voice to a protest. Instead, he glanced in the direction of France and frowned. “What’s this?”
A set of sails, barely visible on the darkening horizon, appeared to rise from the sea.
“I’ll get Flinn,” Fitz offered, knowing the barrelman was eating supper below deck.
Nelson was about to tell him not to bother. He was fairly sure he knew the identity of the ship that followed in their wake. But Flinn was already scrambling down the steep companionway.
In the growing gloom of twilight, his attention went to the door of the captain’s quarters. He hadn’t expected to see Blake Russell until morning, but the captain emerged and made his way toward him.
“I see the wind is not in our favor,” Blake commented.
“Would’ve thought you’d be happy for it,” Nelson countered.
Sure he heard a bitter note in his first mate’s voice, Blake said, “I haven’t ruined her if that’s what you’re thinking. We’ve been... talking.”
“Talking?” The word was said with a good deal of disbelief.
“About our future, and what I might do should Sir Peter allow me to court his daughter.”
Nelson blinked. “Court? You?” His eyes darted left and then right before he gave a shake of his head. “Where is Captain Russell? I demand to know. What have you done with him?”
Despite the first mate’s serious demeanor, Blake allowed a chuckle. “He’s been replaced, it seems.”
“Say it isn’t so,” Nelson demanded.
Blake allowed a shrug. “Dammit, man, I think I’m in love,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Lust, you mean. I saw how your eyes drift to her rather generous charms,” Nelson argued. Blake acted as if he couldn’t hear his first mate.
“Me! I never would have guessed it could happen, but I’m living proof that Cupid doesn’t spare anyone.”
Nelson nearly gave up his hold on the wheel. “The chubby urchin better keep his arrows in his quiver when it comes to me,” he warned.
Blake allowed a throaty laugh. “He’s coming for you,” he warned with a grin.
“Oh, so you think he’s on that ship?” Nelson asked as he pointed south.
Blake followed the direction of Nelson’s finger and furrowed a brow. “I’ll be damned,” he murmured. “How the hell are they making such good time?” For now that the ship that was following them had cleared the horizon, it was clear it was the Tuscan.
“They must have decided they didn’t want a stowaway,” Nelson commented.
“Which means they may want to give her back,” Blake teased, although the thought of ever seeing the double-crossing lady’s maid wasn’t one he relished.
Giving him a quelling glance, Nelson added, “And they’re traveling light. No cargo, so I guess it stands to reason they can make good time.”
“Or Miss Woodcock discovered what was in the valise and begged them to bring her back to London,” Blake countered. “You have good instincts, Nelson. You were right about her.”
The first mate dipped his head. “Was I?”
Blake regarded the shorter man with a look that emphasized his confusion. “What are you implying?”
Nelson rolled his eyes and reluctantly shared a snippet of a conversation he’d had with the lady’s maid earlier that day.
“You believe her?” the captain asked as his gaze once again went to the Tuscan. This new information certainly provided another reason for Miss Woodcock to have fled the ship.
Shaking his head in frustration, Nelson said, “I don’t know that I do or I don’t.”
Nodding his understanding, Blake offered to take the wheel. “Why don’t you get some sleep? At least until they make their intentions known?”
Nelson gave a glance in the direction of the captain’s quarters. “Don’t you have someone to entertain?”
Sighing, Blake was about to agree to Nelson’s unspoken offer. Instead, he said, “I am still captain of this ship, and I’m quite sure my guest is sound asleep.”
Nelson gave a nod and said, “Then good night, Capt’n.” He disappeared down the com
panionway leaving Blake to ruminate on what would come next.
Reflections on a Pirate’s Pleasure
Meanwhile, in the captain’s cabin
Barbara knew the moment Blake had left the bed and his cabin, for it was the same moment she experienced a sense of loss. The heavy warmth of the captain’s body along one side of her own lifted away and was replaced with a blanket that smelled of wool and Blake’s cologne.
Had he thought her fast to allow him to pleasure her as he did? She should have pushed him away. Put up a fight, or at least a word of discouragement. Insisted she be left alone until their return to London.
But had she done so, her body would never forgive her.
How had the man managed to endear himself to her so completely after only a few minutes of conversation and a couple of dances?
With his clever repartee, of course. And the way he looked at her. Not like the way every other man saw her. Blake Russell didn’t seem put off by her fleshy breasts or wide hips or her lack of beauty. In fact, he had seemed enthralled by her, even when she had shed her Bo Peep gown and petticoats and stood before him in all her corseted glory.
He is a pirate, she thought with a smirk.
But what if he really was just after the bounty? Her father had no doubt offered a reward for her return. How much, she didn’t know. But given Sir Peter had sent twenty-thousand pounds with Woodcock in the event the Molly didn’t catch up to the Tuscan before they reached Calais meant he did want her back.
That last comforting thought was replaced with a memory of what Blake had done to her earlier that evening. The pleasant frisson that shot through her body had her sighing, and she allowed sleep to take her.
In what seemed like only a moment later, she felt the pressure of a light kiss on her forehead. Opening her eyes, she was surprised to find the cabin lit from the sun.
“I really hate to wake you, my sweet, if only because I want nothing more than to climb in there and spend the entire day with you, but... we must be going.”