by Tamara Gill
The tip of his member entered her and she slipped her legs up around his waist.
“You make me so desperate I can scarcely breathe.”
Arabella bit her lip, loving that she could make him lose a little control. His breath was ragged and she undulated beneath him, wanting more, needing Stephen to make her his. “Is this what I’m supposed to do?” He pushed a little further in and a slight sting dampened her desire.
He nodded, rolling his hips a little as he pushed some more. “It’s very good. Too good,” he said, before thrusting once and taking her fully.
Arabella froze as the width and length of him wasn’t what she’d expected. Deep inside, she felt full, sore, but also impatient to see what else he could do for her. She wanted to experience it all, and now wasn’t soon enough.
“I’m sorry.” He kissed her, swooped her into a void of need before slowly, with each thrust of tongue, matched the stroke with his hips. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
The sincerity in his voice made her heart thump. “I’m well.” She wrapped her arms about his neck and smiled. “Please proceed.”
* * *
Stephen chuckled, but took each stroke slowly. He was large, probably too large for a virgin of her petite frame. But women like Arabella were rare and the thought of her future husband taking her in such a way, consummating their marriage wasn’t to be borne.
The fop she was betrothed to wouldn’t be gentle. Why, he’d more likely turn her over and sodomise her instead.
She undulated beneath him, her breasts rocking with their lovemaking, and he felt sure his choice to have her was right. Maybe not morally right, but for Arabella he’d done her a favor in showing her what it was supposed to be like for a woman when laying with a man.
Heat, the slap of skin on skin, moistness and moans were what was supposed to be heard and felt when a woman was in the throes of passion. Not silence, whimpering like he instinctively knew she would endure with Lord Montague.
“Have you ever found bliss, Arabella?”
She opened her eyes and he lost a part of himself to their crystalline beauty. “What is that? I’ve seen women with men before and they seem to enjoy it, but I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“The fact that you do not know is all the answer I need.” He rolled onto his back and pulled her to straddle his waist. He’d not thought she could be any more beautiful, but above, him, in control of their enjoyment, she was magnificent.
She braced herself on top of him, her hands idly feeling the hair on his chest. “Is this position even possible?”
“Absolutely. Just lift yourself as if you’re riding a horse, but bring yourself down on me. Nice and slowly, but continuously. I promise you’ll enjoy it.” He clasped her hips and helped her, as the first few movements were awkward. It didn’t take her long before she’d mastered the sexual position.
Stephen bit the inside of his lip as she rode him, her hips swaying slightly that matched her bountiful breasts. He shut his eyes not needing to see the stimulating picture she made. He wouldn’t come until she’d found her own pleasure, and by the increased pants and slickness between them, it wouldn’t be long.
A self-satisfied smile tweaked his lips knowing she was enjoying this as much as he.
“Yes, keep doing that.” Oh God, she was going to kill him. Her body, tight and willing drew him along, pulled at his cock and made him want to blow between her legs. How did she learn so quickly? “Ride me until you come. Use me.”
The sight of her fondling her own breast was too much. Stephen swore. He couldn’t take much more. She rode him, her strokes consistent and mind numbing.
Stephen grabbed her hips, helped her to come down hard with each stroke. Her gaze went hazy with awe. “Is that good?” he panted, knowing it felt bloody fantastic.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Oh yes it is.”
Their speed increased. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed throughout the space along with the scent of sex and still he urged her on, wanting to see her shatter for the very first time in his arms. It didn’t take long.
Arabella moaned, her head flopping back as she rode him through her release. Stephen, leaving one hand on her hips, clasped her breast and tweaked a pinkened, erect nipple. She gasped again, her body convulsing around his cock and dragging him along to join her.
Lights blazed behind his eyes as his body released days of pent up desire. He took her without heed or care, allowed them both to come apart within each other’s arms.
Arabella collapsed beside him, both their breathing ragged. Not willing to let her scoot away, he pulled her into the nook of his shoulder to keep her close.
“I’m…speechless,” she said, sighing and sounding sleepy.
Stephen laughed. She was more than speechless. She was thoroughly ruined and by him. Never had he felt more like a cad or like someone who’d given a precious gift to a woman who otherwise may have never known the pleasure that could be had between two people. “And now you know.”
She looked up at him and the trust he read in her gaze unsettled him a little. “What?”
“What pleasure is.” He grinned at the blush that stole over her cheeks. How after what they’d just done she could be embarrassed he had no clue. “I gather you rather enjoyed it.”
Arabella grinned and started to play with his chest hair. “I did. Rather a lot, I’m afraid. Which could be a bad thing.”
“How so?” He didn’t think such a thing could ever be bad, especially if he had her before him, opening for him, beckoning him with her gaze. His cock twitched at the thought.
“Because I’ll want to do it again.” She held his gaze, not an ounce of fear in her declaration.
Relief poured through him that he’d not scared her off. “Well, I’m never one to disappoint a lady.”
She raised her brow and threw him a knowing grin. “Not with sex it would seem.”
“Touché. Not with sex at least.” He laughed, rolling her onto his back and taking her again. With each kiss, each embrace or touch they shared, Stephen felt his life changing, growing brighter, clearer than ever before. Arabella was delightful, a willing companion in his bed, laughed and took charge when she wanted. She was a breath of fresh air in a life that had stagnated a long time ago.
Chapter Six
The next few weeks passed in a haze of desire, stolen moments and laughter.
Arabella couldn’t remember when she’d had a more delightful time in her life. Somehow, Stephen brought out the best in her in what could possibly be the worst time of her life. Which was interesting since he was the root of her problems or at least, part of them.
Stephen changed his mind as to their destination and had sailed past the entrance to the Thames river and had instead, continued along the English coast toward Cornwall. Today they were anchoring off a remote cove where a small village could be seen scattered back from the land behind. A magnificent house further up the coast looked over the township and rocky outcrop that made up part of the coast. She stood beside the wheel and watched the men go about their jobs. They were so close to home. It had been months since she’d set foot on English soil.
Arabella frowned, not knowing how seeing England again made her feel. She supposed a little sad that her voyage with Stephen was ending. That soon he would hand her over to her father once the debt was paid, and her betrothed if he would still have her, which she hoped he would not. The thought of laying with another man other than Stephen made her stomach roil in dread.
Lord Montague and their impending marriage floated through her mind. Did he know of her disappearance? Had her father somehow managed word to him and even now, were both in pursuit to rescue her? She scoffed, doubting his lordship cared a fig what happened to her person. His only concern would be for the money he’d lose in not marrying her.
She bit her lip to stop her eyes from welling up. The thought of being removed from Stephen’s side and embarking on a life she had promised another left
her hollow. She didn’t even know Lord Montague. Had hardly spent any time being acquainted when he was in Malta with her family. The image of laying under him, making love as a wife should with her husband brought revulsion coursing through her blood. If she were lucky, his lordship would not want someone who is sullied, would look elsewhere for a wife. Such hope didn’t last long, not when her marriage portion was large enough to forgive any misdemeanor by her.
Footsteps sounded behind her and she knew by the fall of the boot who it was without turning. Strong arms encircled her waist and she settled against his chest the fresh smell of the ocean and soap coming with him. “Do you wish to join me on the mainland? It may be nice for you to be on land for a little while.”
“I would love to.” She turned and pushed the lock of hair out of his face. A few of the crew smiled in their direction, some making light of the captain’s public show of affection. Arabella reveled in it, loving how he had no qualms in kissing or touching her anywhere on the ship and before anyone. “How long do you think your business will take?”
“A day or so. No more.” He walked her backward and the cool wood of the railing sat against her back. “Why? Impatient to get me back in our cabin?”
She slapped his chest but undulated against his hardness, loving the fact he now called his quarters their quarters. “Of course not. Whatever gave you that impression?” He laughed and shook his head. Over the last few weeks, a closeness had formed between them. One that she’d not thought possible, especially with how they were thrown together in the first place. With Stephen by her side, Arabella felt free, more herself than any other time she can remember. There were no rules with him, no must and must not’s in life.
“You have a certain look in your eye, one where I believe you’d like nothing more than to take me somewhere private and do wickedly naughty things to me,” he grinned, a devilish light in his eyes.
“No I do not. You’re simply imagining things. Now come, we’re getting closer to the coast and I need to change into appropriate clothing for a woman.” Not that she’d like to change out of her breeches, loose fitting shirt and jacket. Never had she ever been so comfortable in clothing in her life. The fact she could get about with ease and with little fuss was liberating.
“Of course. Lead the way, my dear. Any excuse helping you change.”
Arabella laughed. “You’re incorrigible.” But she pulled him along with her in any case.
They anchored late in the afternoon, just as the sun started to disappear behind darkened clouds to the west. It was only a short boat journey to the quaint town. Thatched roofed homes and walls that were made of wood and plaster ran along the foreshore a little back from the beach. Children scooted about playing, some people walked along the cobbled streets entering a few stores that sold particular goods. A highly polished carriage was being unhitched and unloaded at the Boar and Hound Inn. It was a lovely location, very English and welcoming.
Arabella followed Stephen up a side street off the main thoroughfare and was surprised to see an old woman standing on the street beside a cottage door smiling at them. He jogged toward her and picked up the lady and spun her about, laughing. Arabella stopped and just watched. From the love and jovial exclamations the woman was making, she gathered his important business was seeing his mother or some relative.
Stephen gestured for her to join them, and her heart squeezed that he would include her in this. The older woman was a lovely lady, very welcoming and happy to see her son. Introductions were performed and they took afternoon tea with his mother. Arabella considered the lady’s perfect manners and impeccable speech which seemed at odds to her sons employment. Again she wondered who Stephen really was and what his history had been. Something told her he wasn’t only just a pirate.
They weren’t able to stay long much to her surprise. Stephen had other business at the inn, but he promised his mother he would visit again and discuss all that was necessary then. Arabella bid farewell, but was unsure as to what Stephen had meant. What was necessary with his life and what did it have to do with his mother?
A short time later, they walked into the taproom of the inn. Arabella looked about while Stephen organized a private dining chamber. The room was dim, with a burning fire that sat directly across from the bar. Stephen threw orders about like a seasoned gentleman of the ton, and once more Arabella was struck by how commanding, autocratic he was. Their weeks together had brought them close in every sense except in the one way that mattered most to her. Who was this man? What had happened in his past that he now sailed the high seas for a living?
He was still a mystery. She knew nothing of his past, of his life outside the captioning the ship or what he’d like to do in the future. And today with his mother only confirmed her suspicions he was hiding something.
But what? And why?
The innkeeper, an elderly, rotund man led them off into a little room that had a roaring fire and a beautiful view of the seaside beyond.
Small vessels dotted the shallow coastal water and Arabella stepped over toward the fire to warm herself. Stephen sank with a sigh into a settee and shut his eyes. The storm that had been on the horizon earlier in the day was starting to show its presence as the wind picked up and rain started to spatter against the windowpane.
“You said you have other business here. Are you meeting someone else?”
Stephen ran a hand through his hair making it stand on end. He cocked one eye open. “I am. Yes. He should be here after dinner, which should be served soon.” He gestured to the seat beside him. “Come. Sit with me.”
Arabella sat, not liking how he seemed a little ill at ease. “Is something troubling you?”
He pulled out a missive and passed it to her. It was from Lord Montague. She started for a moment before tearing the missive open.
Captain,
I’m shocked that you would steal away the woman who is to become my wife in only a few weeks’ time. I should imagine if you’re reading this missive you should also be looking over your shoulder as I’m going to have my revenge on you.
If one hair is misplaced on Miss Hester’s head I shall have great enjoyment hurting you in any torturous way possible. It is well advised that the moment you make land in England you hand over my betrothed immediately if I’m not there to make you do so. Not that by doing so will alter the course of your future. You will hang for this crime, you dirty pirate scum.
That is one promise I will make and hold true.
Lord Montague.
Arabella screwed up the letter and threw it into the fire. Fear spiked through her at being ripped away from the one man she’d ever cared for. To be placed with peer who held her in little regard other than monetary value.
Stephen didn’t say anything, just watched her as she fiddled with her skirts. “I suppose we should discuss what you’re planning to do with me and when you’re going to be rid of me as well.”
“And if I don’t want to be rid of you. What then?” He turned a met her gaze fully, his eyes as bleak as her own emotions. “Will you leave me anyway, Arabella?”
She stood, needing space. “You know I cannot stay. They will kill you if they ever caught you. The banns have been called, here and in Malta. Everyone knows I’m to marry Lord Montague. You seek revenge on my father, you’re using me for leverage to gain payment. That fact is not something to be passed over and ignored.”
“I know that.” He stood, towering over her and her body yearned to lean into him, wrap her arms about his neck and kiss them both senseless. To kiss their problems into oblivion. “Perhaps knowing what your father owes me for will make things clearer for you.”
“Please. Enlighten me.” She crossed her arms over her chest needing any defense she could gather just in case what Stephen told her was devastating. Just one look at Stephen pulled her into a world that wasn’t where she belonged. He was impossible to ignore.
“I’m a smuggler by trade, have been since the man you’re about to meet after d
inner gifted me his ship. Your father sought me out and asked me to smuggle into England a large shipment of silk to be sold in the markets of London. I should imagine most of the upper ten-thousand are wearing what your father shipped illegally into this country using my men and my ship. The payment due was to be the last monetary amount needed to give them and their families a comfortable life. Better than anything they’ve ever dreamed of. Your father has stolen this from them and I’m not going to allow that to happen.”
Arabella sat back down. “I don’t understand. Father has money so why he’s refused to pay what was due, illegal or otherwise doesn’t make sense. How much is the debt?”
A muscle worked in Stephen’s jaw and trepidation settled like a rock in her gut. “Two thousand pounds.”
“But he has that.” Doesn’t he? Of late they had been having food that was less extravagant than usual. Come to think of it, less servants and only one carriage to support their household in Malta. Was her father short of blunt? Were they poor? She swallowed.
“Apparently not,” he said.
“What will you do if he cannot pay?” Would he ruin her publicly? Throw her overboard as a waste of his effort and time? She shook the silly thought aside, her mind going places that were less than helpful. At times such as these one needed a clear mind, free to think rationally.
“I will ruin him.” And you as well. The unspoken words hung between them like a noose.
She clasped his hand. “Perhaps if I speak to my father I can get him to pay you and there be no need for any further trouble.” Although the more Arabella thought about the strictures of her life of late, something told her that her father wasn’t going to be able to pay no matter how much she wished it.