by Tamara Gill
Her shoulders drooped. In times like this, another female would be handy to have around. She perched on the edge of her bed. As she wondered where her slippers had got to, the door connecting her cabin with Adrian’s opened and he strode in. “Adrian?” She hadn’t expected to see him until dinner. His abrupt presence sent flutters into her stomach and moist heat between her thighs. Never would she get enough of seeing his powerful form.
“Stand.” The gruff order matched his stormy gaze and work-disheveled appearance.
Sarah scrambled to her feet, her breathing shallow as he looked her over from head to toe. He, like Tommy, said nothing regarding her appearance, only continued the critical glance. Finally, she could take the silence no longer. “For the love of God, does the dress suit me or not?” Anxiety tightened her chest. Why the hell didn’t he say anything?
“Yes, more than I had hoped. Better than I’d imagined.” Adrian closed the distance between them, took her face between his palms and claimed her lips.
Deep, drugging kisses followed, each one taking a part of her soul, and left Sarah weak at the knees. Her heart raced. Her core pulsed. By the time they came up for air, she clung to his shoulders, afraid if she released him she’d crumple to the floor in a boneless heap. “Good heavens. You are quite potent.” Need throbbed through her insides. “It’s unfortunate we have a dinner appointment to keep.”
Two weeks ago she would never imagine craving a man’s touch, but her life had changed largely in a span of days, and Adrian was more than a mere man. Perhaps perspective did color life in all ways.
“Indeed, but the dinner is necessary.” He stroked his hands along the sides of her neck before moving them over her shoulders and down her arms. “Do you find the clothes satisfactory?” His eyes smoldered with the same desire raging through her veins.
“Yes.” The ability to further converse left her as he drew a fingertip along the lace at her bodice. Her breath stalled. Would be take her to bed regardless of their appointment? She trembled with excitement.
“Excellent. While you plotted on the ship to leave me, I took advantage of your absence and bought the frock in one of St. George’s boutiques. The shopkeeper assured me it would fit, as she was roughly your size. Brax brought it back to the ship for me so you’d be none the wiser.” Humor threaded through the statement as if he was pleased he’d played a joke on her.
Shock tightened her chest. “You purchased it? For me?” That meant he’d thought of her in a capacity more than a prisoner. Her heart skipped a beat.
A slight grin parted his lips. “Aye. Think of it as a delayed Christmas gift, since I marred your holiday with the slight matter of the kidnapping.”
Tears blurred her vision. “Thank you.” The puzzling nicety left her shaken. This was the same man who had ruthlessly burned countless men to death, who had whipped a young boy for stealing food and who had taken the pussy to her back? This man, who whispered her name and touched her so tenderly, was the same man who expected unequivocal obedience from his crew?
He was a study in contrasts.
“It’s not often I can render you speechless, my dear.” Adrian dipped his fingertip beneath her bodice and grazed a nipple, effectively distracting her from further contemplation of his opposing personalities. Shivers played up her spine and cycled through her breasts. He repeated the movement once more before withdrawing his hand. A slow, sensual smile graced his lips and he nodded. “And, you are most welcome.”
She stood staring at him in the emotionally-charged silence, she in her new finery and he in his dirt-streaked, sweaty working clothes, but in that one moment, all her doubts and fears melted away. In that one perfect second of time, they were merely a man and a woman brought together by unusual circumstances.
It was enough.
As if he couldn’t help himself, he gave her nipple one last tweak through the fabric. “You could grace any drawing room in London.”
“Now you’re having me on.” But she grinned. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself at such gatherings besides keep the wallflowers company.”
He swept her into a loose embrace. “Men would fall over themselves to put their name on your dance card. Hostesses would vie to have you grace their tables, for you are quite interesting to talk with.”
“Oh stop.” She shoved at his shoulder, and when he didn’t release her, she furrowed her brow. “What are you about?” Had he always been so mischievous or did she bring out the trait in him?
“Leading you out for your very own waltz. Your maiden waltz, I’d wager.” He put them into the correct positions and then initiated the first steps.
“A waltz? But I cannot dance due to my limp.”
“Pish posh, my dear. If you can fight off French sailors on my decks, you can indulge me this.” His confident grin warmed her insides. “I told you before; it doesn’t detract from who you are as a person. I, for one, don’t notice it at all anymore.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t breathe while in his arms in the face of such a gift as well as the compliment.
He swept her around and her skirts swished against her legs. “I beg your pardon, but your father was an idiot. You should have gone to balls and fetes. You should have experienced the heady emotions of your first love and fought off the veiled barbs of the tabbies. He stole all of that from you.”
Due to the close confines of the cabin, they didn’t cover much floor space, but it was a dance nonetheless. She did her best to keep pace with his slow rhythm, but it wasn’t a chore. She scarcely felt her feet on the floor. Her heart raced from the nicety that was so out of place here in her new world at sea. Under his breath he hummed snatches of a waltz popular during her come-out age. How did he know it was a favorite? Perhaps he did not. Perhaps it was merely a tune he remembered from his own past. No matter. The melody swirled through her head and gave her feet wings. His large, calloused hand enclosing hers made Sarah feel safe. His other hand at the small of her back sent flutters trailing through her insides, yet it was his words that melted her heart. If the euphoria enveloping her was any indication, she did indeed experience those first pangs. She willed away the urge to cry silly, emotional tears that had no place on a privateer vessel. After everything they’d both been through, an impromptu waltz had the power to see her undone.
Instead, she relaxed and let herself enjoy the rare intimacy of the dance. Adrian tugged her closer. His earthy scent of sea and man perfumed the air. The gleam in his eyes rendered her breathless while the mischievous half-grin curving his mouth sent desire spiraling through her lower belly. Did he know how much this one dance meant to her? Her breasts brushed his chest. Her thighs bumped his each time they turned. The insistent press of his hardened cock into her belly sent quivers between her legs. His presence wrapped around her and bound her soul to his in a way his orders never could. In this one dance, the two halves of Adrian—the harsh pirate and the considerate lover—came to together into the man who’d left an indelible imprint on her heart.
As they drew to a stop and his humming faded, Sarah moistened her lips. “Thank you, Adrian. I…” She held his gaze, lost in the inscrutable depths. “You cannot possibly know how much this means.”
He jerked from their embrace as if he yanked himself from a trance. “Dinner’s on, and now we’re late. I have much to discuss with the men.” Without another word he strode into his cabin, clearly expecting that she would follow. All traces of the man who’d prompted the dance were gone.
At least I shared that moment with him, fleeting though it was. Sarah stifled a sigh. Even the best of men were only men at their best. Time to beard the lions and hope for a favorable outcome.
*****
As meals went, it could have occurred in any dining room in any civilized city of the world. China and silverware rested alongside crystal on a high-polished tabletop. Adequate food, an abundance of wine and rum, bowls of fresh fruit and a few hand pies were passed around during the course of the evening. While consuming the o
fferings, Adrian and his most trusted officers—Brax, Mr. Elmwood, Little Jim, the corporal and eventually Doctor Anderson— bantered back and forth about a surprising number of world events, including the state of Britain’s monarchy, the increased demand for the slave trade as well as the fate of the new America. It would seem that even upon a pirate vessel one needed to stay current on the news.
Sarah wasn’t quite sure why she’d been invited to attend, as none of the men ever posed a direct question to her, yet they were never rude and often she’d catch one or more of them casting interested glances her way. When she intercepted the looks, they’d smile or nod and then apply themselves to their plates, never holding her gaze for more than a second, and never did they address her by her first name.
By the time port and coffee were brought out and the table cleared of all detritus, the conversation turned to business-related subjects. Sarah listened to the animated sound of their voices. Each timbre, each different speech pattern blended to create a musical background of sorts that soothed her tired muscles and calmed her nerves. Yet time and again, she focused on Adrian’s quiet authority as he went down a checklist of topics. He made decisions and corrected the men if he felt their answers were wrong. He gave praise where appropriate, instructed where the others faltered in logic and provided suggestions on how to make a certain aspect of running the ship more efficient. They talked of upcoming repairs or offenders who’d need to be punished during the next judgment. Even when concern was raised that a handful of men were acting strange and being generally belligerent regarding order and authority, she hung on the words. Every new turn in the conversation raised her respect for him.
In direct flaunting of the manners she’d followed all her life, Sarah rested an elbow on the table and propped her chin in her hand. She swept her gaze along Adrian’s stubble-shadowed jaw, the curve of his ear as well as the hair-sprinkled skin of his chest visible in the loose vee of his shirt. Oh he was handsome all right, and deadly when provoked, but underneath the exterior beat the heart of a champion and a gentleman. He truly cared about the men under his command. Even now he inquired after Elmwood’s mother, listening with rapt attention as the red-haired man detailed her aches and pains.
Sarah’s viewpoint on piracy slipped another notch. For all the violence attached to it, it was a business venture, nothing more. If Adrian didn’t rule his floating world with an iron hand, his business would be in jeopardy. He employed over one hundred men. He cared about them as he would members of a… family. Sarah swallowed past the lump building in her throat. He’d chosen most of the crew because they were alone in life.
He’d steadily nurtured a replacement family, whether he’d been aware of it or not, for both them and himself. The Westerbrookes of Surrey may have rejected him, but Adrian didn’t need them any longer. Here on the Lady Catherine, he’d garnered respect. He’d built a life for him as well as them. They looked upon him as a leader, a father, a brother. He’d filled the hole in his life the best he could. Surely God would overlook the sins attached to piracy in lieu of the good deeds that accompanied them as well.
She held on to that hope and knew that if God wouldn’t grant forgiveness, she would. It had to be enough, and she prayed Adrian would accept it.
*****
Sarah had the sensation of flying and then settling backward into a cloud. She started and opened her eyes. A flash of surprise moved down her spine. She lay on her bed with no recollection of how she’d arrived there. She glanced through the lengthening shadows. Sunset, such as it was so near the equator, had come and gone, leaving a star-strewn sky in its wake. She must have dozed off at dinner, which meant Adrian had carried her into her cabin. Embarrassed warmth swept through her. Had they found mirth at her lapse in manners?
Sitting up, still fully clothed, she swung her feet over the bed’s edge and stood, stumbling slightly as the ship pitched on a patch of choppy waves. Perhaps it was nothing more than the two large goblets of wine she’d had at dinner, the probable culprit for her early slumber. When her balance returned, she moved across her cabin and opened the connecting door. Adrian lay beneath a sheet on his bed, his tanned skin contrasting with the pale linens.
Her heartbeat accelerated. A wave of desire rushed through her body to lodge between her thighs. I want him—now. Never had she’d been so certain of anything. Never had she known such sharp feeling. The stirring pangs of emotion she’d felt during the pre-dinner dance burgeoned into voracious desire. She craved the physical closeness those feelings had begun. She shed her dress and petticoat, dropped them on the floor, mentally reminding herself to fold them neatly so as not to soil the finery. Then she slipped over the cool planks. While she listened to his even breathing, she slid beneath the sheet and edged close to his warm body.
The urge to touch him grew too strong to ignore, yet she’d never initiated anything with a man let alone intercourse. “Adrian.” She nibbled at his ear and stroked his hair back from his forehead. In sleep, the lines that usually marred his brow had smoothed and left him a more youthful air. She pressed a kiss to his skin. He didn’t stir.
“Adrian, please wake up. I am in great need.” She ran a hand along his chest. The rasp of his coarse hair against her palm increased the passion building inside. She enjoyed how solid he felt under her hand. He was a man who’d protect everything—and everyone—he held dear. When he still didn’t move, she harrumphed and resituated herself until she lay half-draped over him. Surely such jarring movement would pierce his sleep. She traced the plains and ridges on his chest, loving that his manly form felt much different than her softer body. Beneath her hand, his pulse quickened. Sarah grinned. “You naughty man. I suspect you are not asleep at all.” To prove it, she slid her other hand along his body, past his navel and below to his groin. His thick, rigid member bumped against her fingers.
He remained nearly comatose, except for a barely inaudible intake of breath.
Sarah narrowed her eyes. “You know, Tommy told me when he misbehaves, you use the pussy on him. I wonder how you’d react if I were to punish you for pretending to sleep while I’m trying to seduce you?” Although seducing might be too strong a term when she had no knowledge of how to beguile a man into doing her bidding. No matter. She drew her finger up his shaft to the head and then back down again. The turgid flesh jerked from her attention, even more so when she wrapped her hand around its girth. Its thickness in her palm leashed a host of flutters within her belly. She couldn’t wait to feel it moving within her body again. “This extremity is a marvel only the Creator could invent.”
Adrian’s body tensed. “Cease your torment, woman.” In a flurry of bedding and limbs, he pressed her back into the mattress. His comforting weight settled on top of her.
“I knew you weren’t sleeping.” Her heartbeat accelerated.
“Of course I wasn’t, not through your teasing. I’m a man not a stone.” He nibbled the sensitive skin beneath her jaw. “Do you want to punish me, Sarah? Would you have me grovel for your touch? Or would you rather I soothe your ‘great need’?”
Thrills shot down her spine. Not even in her wildest imaginings could she think of him in a submissive position. Perhaps there were other ways of punishing him. “Why can I not have both?” His masculine scent flooded her brain and made her mouth water.
“You can.” He teased her lips with his. “However, the only pussy I wish to be punished with tonight is yours, dripping wet with your need and aching for me to fill you.”
Shivers crawled over her skin from his crude assessment of how she felt. When whittled down to the basics, she supposed that was exactly the truth. No flowery passages, no poetic descriptions, merely raw and primal need. Sarah pulled him closer, giving him an open-mouthed kiss. “Board me at will, Captain. I’ve waited too long.”
“Aye, I will, but it’s time that you teach yourself to call my member what it is.” He lifted off her enough that when he grabbed her hand and pressed it hard against his groin she had no choi
ce but to wrap her fingers around him. “It’s a cock, Sarah, plain and simple. Say it.” He cradled his hand about hers and guided her up and down his length.
She swallowed her embarrassment. “I want your… cock inside me.”
His chuckle resonated in her chest. “It’s a start.”
Desire and lust veiled her world then, and sensation assumed command. She surrendered completely into his care, yet while his lips and calloused fingers skimmed over her body she realized how much power she held over him as well. As she caressed him, continued to pump his silky length, his tremors transferred to her fingertips. When she stroked faster and with more pressure, Adrian shuddered. He urged her onward with encouraging whispers.
“That’s right, love, use a certain firmness. It won’t bite.” Again he guided her hand and then coaxed her to explore his stones. When she gave them a squeeze, a fractured moan escaped him and ruffled the hair on her forehead. “Gently now else I’ll spend on you instead of in you, and while that’s not bad idea, it’s not what I’m of a mind to do at the moment.” He followed the warning by claiming her lips with an equally tender kiss.
She sighed into his mouth from the glory of being with him. Intercourse was not always about one person dominating the other. At times it was a sharing of mutual power and respect. It was being able to trust a partner not to bring harm but instead introduce pleasure and understanding. Not willing to give voice to the deeper feelings that lay ready to burst in her heart, Sarah put every ounce of meaning into her kisses and actions, wishful he would receive her message.
Adrian pulled slightly away. “You are a study of contrasts, Sarah. I hope you will never change.” He dropped kisses onto her breasts.
When she arched her back and offered them more fully for his ravishment, she sighed. “Change is the one problem I am contemplating.” Not in the mood for conversation, she tugged his head down and guided his mouth over one tight, aching nipple. He followed her instruction by sucking the tip into his mouth. She panted her appreciation. The ache increased with every lap and lick of this tongue, and the sweet discomfort echoed through her lower body.