by Julia Knight
Paul smiled and locked the door quietly behind him. “Oh yes. Caught and ready for you, sir. In this room, as it happens, and not much point finding her more clothes. I intend to have her out of them at the earliest opportunity.”
Wagstaff’s eyes bulged out of his head. “You intend what? You, sir, are not a gentleman. After what this—”
“No, you’re quite right, I’m not. But then I don’t think my pirate captain would like it half so much if I were. In fact, I’m sure she wouldn’t.”
Catherine shot him a glance, her eyes wide in sudden realisation. She hadn’t thought he’d do it. She’d thought he’d had something else in mind, that was plain, but he’d burned his bridges, shown his hand and that maybe, just maybe, she could trust him. If she couldn’t change, or give it up, maybe he could give up something not as important as his ship. It was the Newquay that had him and ruled him. The sea, not the navy. His career had been only a means to an end, and it had taken her to show him that. Show him what was important.
Wagstaff opened and closed his mouth helplessly, his face growing steadily more purple as he realised what Paul had said. “Your pirate—” He spun toward Catherine. “Catherine fucking Harcourt! I’ll have your neck for this treachery, Ambury!”
“Actually, I think you won’t.” Paul smiled at him, noticed the sheen of sweat on his brow, the slightly fuddled look to his eyes. Someone fell against the door behind him with a cry, but Paul ignored it and concentrated on the drugged admiral in front of him. “The pirates you think are safely locked in the hold aren’t. They’re the crew. The men you brought with you are now in the brig, along with Matthew and what’s left of his crew. You’ll join them soon enough. A nice hostage. The signal’s already been sent that you’ll come with the Newquay to port, that we need repair urgently, the remaining pirate ships to follow. The rest of the fleet are to stay and mop up what’s left. I’m sure we can find somewhere to get a good ransom for an admiral, a captain and a score or more of ratings. Don’t you?”
Catherine laughed, and his stomach burned at the sound. Someone knocked at the door, and a muffled voice came through. “All in the hold, Captain.”
“See, there you are. And now we make sail. If you’d be so kind as to follow my man?”
Paul unlocked the door and four ratings came in, all well-armed. Wagstaff blustered and shouted, but there was nothing he could do, even if there’d been nothing but brandy in that glass. The way the deck moved under them, it was plain they were under way, and not a shot from the fleet. Suddenly Paul saw what it was that lured Catherine to this. The thrill of the risk, that it might so easily have ended in disaster, in a noose, but it hadn’t. A laugh ripped through him, tore free all his notions of what was proper, what he should be and do. Always he’d been railing against it, but he’d never found the one thing that would free him from the constraints he’d been born into.
Catherine stood staring up at him as though she couldn’t quite believe he’d done it. He grabbed her and swung her about. She’d shown that to him.
He kicked the door shut behind him and caught her round the waist, holding her tight so she wouldn’t push him away this time. “I know what I want. You, all of you. Every last drop. And this time, I won’t take no for an answer.”
Catherine tried to pull away, her mind whirling. She’d thought it all a ruse, a bluff, not suspecting for a minute he’d really go through with it. The window stood propped open in case she needed a hasty escape. She even had some money she’d thieved from his desk. And now he’d really done it.
Paul gripped her tighter as though trying to keep her with him, but sudden fear made her wrench away. He might have severed all his ties with the navy, but the thought of giving him what he wanted, giving him her, made her heart race with panic. She was alone in her heart, had been for too long now, and the only time she’d ever dropped her guard, it had ended in disaster. She couldn’t risk that with Paul. For either of their sakes.
She spun toward the door, but he was quicker than she’d thought. He trapped her, face to the wall inside the cage of his arms, then pressed against her with his mouth at her ear. She trembled against the wood. Was this how it was going to start, the disappointment, the rages? A quick feint to one side, and she lunged for the door. Again he caught her against the wall. This time he threaded the fingers of his left hand through hers as he spoke soft words in her ear.
“Don’t push me away, not now.”
Catherine rested her forehead on the wood and tried to still the trembling in her legs. Tried not to notice the way he pressed against her, and the thrilling tremor in her loins at his touch. “I can’t change, I told you. I tried and it won’t work. I—I don’t want it to end that way for you.”
He laughed softly, and his breath tickled the side of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “I don’t want you to change. I never really did. I love you, Catherine, exactly as you are. I love the fact I never know what you’ll say or do next. I love your fearlessness. I love you.” He ran his right hand over her shift, round over her stomach and down. His fingers caught at the silk, and drew the skirt up in folds till he was touching her bare thigh. “It’s not that you can’t. It’s that you won’t. Tell me to stop, and I will.”
His hand drifted up her thigh, and she trembled not from panic but from his touch on her skin. Fingers slid through her pubic hair, and she gasped when one found her sweet spot, flickered over it gently, then more insistently. She shut her eyes and tried to remember why she couldn’t do this. Why she shouldn’t let him into her heart. Why she should cry out and run, as fast as she could, for her own ship. For the sweet haven of her quarters on the Wicked Lady. She’d be no man’s slave. She’d been alone all her life, bar her one disastrous attempt at love, alone with no one to trust, and she ached for that. When he touched her, all she wanted to do was agree to anything, anything at all, just as long as he didn’t stop.
He pushed his finger inside her, and she bit back a gasp. But he knew; she could tell by the way his mouth curved against her neck. He pressed against her, his length pushing into her through his breeches and the thin fabric of her shift. He took his hand away, and she moaned with disappointment, but after a few fumbled moments, he pulled up her shift. His cock slipped between her thighs, teased her by sliding past her entrance, and then his hand was back. Her clitoris throbbed and strained to meet it, twitched almost painfully when his skin met hers, and she nearly cried out.
Still she couldn’t say it, couldn’t bring herself to say the one little word that he wanted, and couldn’t bring herself to say stop either. She couldn’t say anything. Her brain refused to work. She could only do.
She twisted in his grip, lunged for the door, but his grip was too strong and she ended up with her back to the wall. She shut her eyes, not daring to look at him. He pressed in close, and she shivered against the warmth of him. A warmth she didn’t dare to share. His breath was on her neck, along her cheek, a breeze across her lips. Before she knew it, before she could push him away, he kissed her, and she was lost.
A soft caress at first, his lips testing the waters. When she didn’t pull away, he drew her into him, rained hard, insistent kisses on her that robbed her of breath. Her heart was beating fit to burst in panic, in fear and want.
He pulled away a little, and she opened her eyes, looked at him as he searched her face for something, for a hint that she might say what he wanted to hear. When she said nothing, he kissed her hard enough to thrust her against the wall, and pulled at the front of her shift. His fingers trailed soft fire across her thighs, melted the tightness in her stomach, loosened her muscles to encourage him further, even as she wanted to run.
“God damn it, woman,” he said into her neck. “God damn it, I’m going to fuck some sense into you if it’s the last thing I do.”
Without warning, his cock was in her, pushing in with ease as he thrust her backwards. She did cry out then, an almost-scream as every muscle twitched and clenched at the feel of him,
his hot breath fanning her neck, his cock sliding out, slowly, ever so slowly before he thrust in. At the words he whispered in her ear: “Let me in, Catherine. Let me love you. Say yes.”
He thrust in, harder, and again she shouted, a word this time. His name. He slowly withdrew until she thought he’d pull out. She meant to say, “I can’t,” but “No, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” were the words that appeared on her lips.
The fingers of his left hand tightened around hers, and she grasped at them, as though only they saved her from drowning. His right hand sent silver shivers through her muscles, her bones, her brain. He plunged in, and this time he didn’t stop. Each time deeper, each time his breath harsher in her ear, and then she wasn’t just crying out, she was screaming against a taut spasm that spun through every part of her, robbed her of the ability to think or move, that brought unbidden tears to her eyes. Her muscles were water, and she almost fell, but he caught her, his arm around her waist and his lips kissing her neck as he slammed into her. With a final push that almost had her off her feet and a “Fuck!” he came.
He fell forward, so they both leant against the wall. His arm tightened around her waist, and he shook his head before he rested his cheek against hers. He smelt of smoke, of gunpowder and brandy. There, in the cage of his arms, she no longer felt a prisoner. She felt safe, as maybe she’d never felt safe before. That someone was ready to protect her, if she needed it. Someone was on her side. She wanted, so badly, to let herself love him. It was a risk to her heart, though. A risk to what made her her.
Paul took in a deep, shuddering breath and enjoyed the smooth feel of Catherine’s skin against his. He hoped that he’d shown her, the only way he knew how, that she could love him, that he wouldn’t hurt her as her husband had. That he loved her as she was, knew what she was and didn’t care. That he loved her because she was who she was.
Before he could catch his breath, gain some control over the muscles in his thighs, she wriggled out from under him. She stared at him, and the mask had slipped. On her face was the one thing he’d never thought to see there: real fear, a terror that tore at his heart. A few stray tears ran over her cheeks as she shook her head. “I—I can’t.”
Paul leant in closer, and she shrank away from him, but he couldn’t give up now. He let his fingers trace the tears and wipe them away. She trembled at his touch, but she had nowhere left to run. “I’m not him, Catherine. And whatever happened with him, whatever went wrong, it won’t happen with me. I promise you.”
Closer still and her breath was soft on his cheek. Her eyes were very wide and her pulse fluttered under his hand. Her lips twisted, as though she screwed up her courage for some terrifying ordeal. Then she grabbed at his head and pulled him down. She kissed him, her lips hesitant, soft and yielding under his for a brief moment.
She pulled away, her eyes searching his. “I want to. I want to, but I’m afraid.” Every mask gone—this was her, the real Catherine.
Paul drew her to him, gave her a kiss of his own, a long, soft kiss that shuddered his spine. She relaxed into him, her body lithe against him, and his cock stirred.
Her arms moved around his shoulders, and she stood on tiptoe to kiss him harder. And then she laughed under him, her breath sweet in his mouth. “Some bloody pirate I am. I live for the risk in everything else. Why not in this too?”
She kissed him harder now, her tongue flickering along his, her hands pulling at his shirt. Buttons pinged to the floor as she ripped at his shirt and threw it off. Paul pulled her away from the wall, tearing at her shift. They fell onto the bed, naked and still kissing. She rolled on top of him and slid herself down the length of his body. The soft warmth of her skin against him, the thought that finally he had some part of her, had him ready. It was three days’ sail to anywhere worth berthing, and he wanted to spend the whole three days kissing her, fucking her till they were raw. Loving her.
He ran his hands over her firm backside and up before she sat up, wriggled against his cock and smiled at him. The smile behind her mask. The real Catherine, at last. He tried to pull her down, but she shoved playfully at his chest, and he sank onto the bed. She gave him a gaze that prickled the skin on his nape as she leant forward and kissed him, long and slow and lingering, and he had her. All of her. And she had him, had done almost from the moment he’d met her. She was going to be trouble, and plenty of it.
He couldn’t wait.
About the Author
To learn more about Julia Knight, please visit www.juliaknight.co.uk. Send an email to Julia Knight at [email protected]
Look for these titles by R. G. Alexander
Now Available:
Ilfayne’s Bane
Love is My Sin
The darkness in his soul could claim her love…or her life…
Savage Kingdom
© 2010 Deanna Ashford
Freygard, a world where women rule and men are slaves, would seem to be a female Nirvana. Not for the warrior Nerya. So far her required visits to the coupling chambers have been awkward and embarrassing. Until Jaden. Despite his chains, the defiant slave’s expert pleasuring satisfies her body—and sparks a determination to defend him from her cruel queen.
Jaden couldn’t be in a worse position. Nerya has not only claimed his prized white stallion, she’s somehow managed to abscond with his ability to resist her sexual appeal. His escape attempt is disastrous, until Nerya intervenes with an unheard-of deal. In exchange for guiding her to an unmapped kingdom to find the sister she never knew she had, she will free both him and his men.
On the journey, Nerya’s determined to resist her powerful attraction to Jaden melts away in the heat of his desire. Leaving her wondering just who is in control—and what it is about him that bothers her. When they are forced to face a soul-stealing mage, his secret is revealed.
He is warrior of the feared Dai’Shi-en, legendary for the dark magic that fuels their violence…and their lust.
Warning: Contains hot, sweaty warrior sex, sex in chains and sex in a tent.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Savage Kingdom:
She’d made a mistake sitting so close to him because, moving more swiftly than she could ever have expected, Jaden grabbed her and pulled her toward him. Keeping her imprisoned in his strong arms, he took possession of her lips, kissing her with unrestrained passion, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She should fight him, try to get away, yet she couldn’t find the strength. Her body responded to his sensual demands, and her tongue darted between his lips, eager to explore the hot, moist interior of his mouth. Raw unrestrained lust flooded through her as the kiss deepened and continued until she was boneless and trembling with desire.
As Jaden let go of her, Nerya shakily straightened. She rubbed a hand against her face, but that wouldn’t wipe away the blush that tainted her cheeks. How could she have allowed herself to get so carried away with lust for a mere man? She was a warrior. She must act like one. Yet still part of her longed for him to touch her again. “How dare you! I could have you whipped for such disrespectful behavior.”
“You stare at me with disdain and call me slave. Yet I have only to touch you and you melt in my arms.”
“You deceive yourself.”
“Your attraction for me terrifies you, doesn’t it?”
“The women of Freygard do not feel desire for slaves.”
“Don’t try to deny it. Your expression tells me all I want to know.” He continued to stare at her with eyes so black she could lose her soul in them. “Leave now, then. Find some other man to couple with, if all you want is fertile seed.”
What sort of warrior would she be if she fled from this challenge? Nerya couldn’t tear her gaze from the face of this demon who tempted her to deny all she’d been taught. She’d bedded a number of women, but she’d never experienced the pleasure she’d felt when she’d coupled with Jaden. Deep down she had to admit she was desperate to experience that exquisite pleasure again. Her entire body ached with desire for
him.
“Men are put on this earth to serve women, and if I order it, you will serve me right now.”
“Yes. I’ll serve you.” He slid his long legs off the bed, and Nerya sprang to her feet, the stool clattering to the floor as she took a step back, out of his reach. “But not in the way your queen demands it. Unchain me and let me show you what true pleasure can be.” As she stepped back another pace, he added, “You’ve no need to fear me. I won’t harm you.”
“I don’t fear you. I’m a warrior. I fear nothing.”
“Except your own desire.” His voice was lower pitched now and caressingly smooth. “I’ll not harm you or even attempt to escape.”
“This is insane.”
“Sex wouldn’t be quite such a humiliating experience if I was unfettered,” he replied, his arm muscles flexing as he pulled against his chains. “Surely you don’t keep all the slaves who serve in these chambers chained?”
“Of course we don’t.”
“Perhaps I should feel honored, then, that you all fear me so much. You’re curious about me and my mission, are you not? If you release me, I’ll tell you all you wish to know.”
“All I wish to know?”
“Everything, Nerya. In fact, there are things you should know that may well eventually concern the fate of your land as well as mine.”
Was he telling the truth? Did he have such information? It might be wise to take advantage of this situation and learn all she could. Even if she released him from his chains, there was no way he could escape. He had no weapon, and she was perfectly capable of defending herself if the need arose.
“If you are lying to me…”
“I’m not lying.” He put his hand to his heart. “I swear on my honor as a nobleman that I’m not.”
Nerya walked to the table, flipped open the small wooden box and removed the key to his manacles. Not at all certain why she was acting so rashly, she returned to Jaden and slid the cylindrical iron key into the lock. With a quick twist, the locking pin released and the heavy manacle fell open. Jaden gave a sigh of relief, flexing his arm while she opened the other manacle.