“I’m sorry for my outburst. I didn’t know your plans.”
“Obviously.” The one word sounded as if it were squeezed from an overtight sausage casing.
“If you had but told me.”
Taking a shuddering breath, the captain said, “I am not in the habit of divulging my strategy. And now, if you’ll excuse me.” He sprang from the table and started looking through drawers. “I have a celebration to attend with my men. See yourself out.”
The cold dismissal delivered the same effect as a winter dunking in the Thames. He sat up slowly, hating the loss of the captain’s heat, his touch.
He adjusted his clothing and left to find Lydia. Seemed he had more apologies yet to give today.
As he opened the door, Breckenridge said over his shoulder, “And, Mr. Morgan, I expect you and your sister to dine with me tonight in my cabin. Arrive at sundown unless you want cold rations.”
Chapter Five
It was a joy to watch Miss Lydia in a shimmering blue dinner gown and Dunn in his olive-green uniform interact. They acted as if they’d been friends since birth. Surprising, since she was gently bred and Dunn fought his way up every step of the way to attain his current position.
Watching Morgan was a different story altogether. Just admiring the man forced him to fight lust one minute and then fight annoyance at the man’s aloofness the next. Why wouldn’t he relax, let down his guard, enjoy himself? It was obvious he wanted to.
Alastair truly believed they could interact as well or even better than Miss Lydia and Dunn. If only the man would stop looking at him through his preconceived biases. Shattering biases was the point of tonight.
He topped off Morgan’s wineglass.
Alastair wore his nicest dinner clothes and brought out his drawing room manners. He rarely played dress-up on ship and rarely when in the colonies. His mother, however, dragged him all over London when he was in town. Showing off her beautiful son, she liked to say.
Slightly disgusted that he’d dressed up like a peacock to impress a man he liked an ounce too much, he watched the man in question.
Morgan sat quietly in the brown suit he wore the first time Alastair met him. The man observed everything—the crystal glasses, the silver cutlery, his sister, Dunn. Everything, that was, except the peacock in the finery.
Pushing his braid behind his ear, he tried to look less like a fop and more like the successful sea captain he’d become.
Miss Lydia and his first mate carried the conversation for several minutes while everyone enjoyed the chicken, biscuits, pea mash, and Madeira wine.
The fowl was a rare treat this far into a sail, but Cook usually kept a few alive for a special dinner, such as tonight. The bird, although tough, combined well with the wine and onion sauce, making the dishes savory on his tongue and very welcome.
When dessert of poached apples in brandy was served, Alastair decided it was time to draw the handsome, quiet guest into conversation. “My dear Mr. Morgan?”
The man’s head swiveled toward him so fast, his hair fell over his forehead. Straightening his locks, he cleared his voice and said, “Yes?”
“I am pleased you and Miss Lydia have shown no signs of seasickness. Have you suffered from any digestive distress?”
The young man smiled, showing just a hint of strong white teeth. “Happily, no. It seems the sea agrees with both Lydia and myself. I rather think if plantation running doesn’t agree with me, I shall petition a position as yardman on your ship.”
They all laughed, but the thought of having that man under his command was intoxicating. “Mate Dunn, is there room for Mr. Morgan on crew?”
Dunn pursed his lips and tapped them with an index finger. “Now that I think about it, we do have a need for an undercook.”
Morgan replied with a look of mock disgust.
Good to know he could enjoy teasing directed his way. Perhaps the wine diluted prickles.
Alastair once again poured more wine into the young man’s wineglass while his attention was on discussing his plantation. The way his face lit and his body animated, one could tell that he was looking forward to the challenge of getting the little plot of land running efficiently and profitably.
“Our plantation is not an established one. My father purchased it shortly before he died, and the overseer is slowly making improvements. The first four years, a neighbor leased the land to raise goats; then I asked the overseer to handle the planting by hiring help. We’ve seen no profit this past two years. Well, truth be told, we’ve not seen any profit yet.” He shrugged and took a sip of wine.
“Higher taxes and reinvestment in the property, you see. Lydia helped me form a plan for increasing profits. So I fully expect that after I negotiate a lower tax rate and utilize the changes I have read about, we shall start seeing a profit. After all, sugar prices have never been as high as they are currently. It is only a matter of time before we are sitting on a little gold mine.”
Miss Lydia beamed at her older brother. “Rhain has researched this very, very fully. He is incredibly smart for a man of only four and twenty.”
“Did you go to university, then, Mr. Morgan?” Dunn fortunately asked, so he did not have to. He found he was much too interested in this passenger.
Morgan was in the middle of a large swallow, so his sister chimed in on what must be a favored topic. “Rhain had a short but adequate education. He was the absolute best at fencing and pugilism in school. He is smart, strong, and agile, so if anyone can make the right decisions about profits, it will be he.”
“Lydia.” The large man blushed under her praise, and with flushed cheeks, he appeared younger than twenty.
How unexpectedly endearing.
Alastair could envision the man playing sports. He was strong and muscular with a domineering personality; of course he would be good at everything. Alastair would bet he was an expert in bed sports as well. He topped off the wineglass again.
“Actually, Lydia is a wizard with numbers. She keeps my accounts and is always finding ways to economize and notices when a tradesman is trying to overcharge.” Morgan sported a contented glow and was positively nice and, well, almost sweet-natured at the moment. With that relaxed smile, he looked delectable.
“Miss Lydia, I must say I have always detested keeping the books, and I put that task off until I absolutely must do it.”
“Truly, sir. I would be happy to catch them up for you, if you wish. It would give me something to do that I enjoy.”
He didn’t need to even think about her offer before accepting. If anyone offered to order his books, he was willing to let them try. He had not even wanted to look at them after Morocco. Too damn disheartening to see his plan to build his own fleet slip further and further out of his grasp. They made plans to start her working on the accounts ledgers the next day.
“These partially settled islands can be unstable at times; do you feel safe going alone, just the two of you?” Dunn asked.
“Hmm. I don’t think I need to worry. After all, Lydia owns a very wicked-looking knife.” When the laughter died down, he continued, “In addition, my foreman informed me that the new investments have made the place quite comfortable to live in.”
“I must say, I was pleased to hear so after Rhain told me we were moving there. I’m afraid I like a certain amount of comforts.”
“We all do, my dear girl.” Dunn patted her hand, and she briefly grasped his fingers.
“The currency on many of these islands is unstable, and there can be excessive lawlessness. I cannot say much about Dominica as I have never been there; have you, Dunn?”
“No, actually the closest I’ve been is Barbados, where we will stop on the way. Now, what a paradise that island is. I’m certain Dominica, being so close to Barbados, must be just as grand.”
“Is that so? Do tell us.”
Dunn regaled Miss Lydia with tales of mountains, waterfalls, birds of astonishing plumage, and game so abundant one did not need to raise animals fo
r food.
During the narrative, he noticed Morgan looking at him. When he glanced back, the boy would drop his gaze to the table.
They all ate heartily, this being a treat five days after leaving Casablanca. With the food consumed, port was savored, and everyone complained of eating too much.
Dunn began his leave-taking, claiming an early morning of duties.
There were the expected “thank yous” and “lovely evenings,” and the guests started filing out.
“Mr. Morgan, a moment if you please,” he said.
The boy looked over his shoulder. “I should walk Lydia to her berth.”
“I’m certain Mate Dunn won’t mind seeing she arrives there safely.”
Dunn lit up like a full moon on a cloudless South Pacific sea. “Not at all. My lady?” He held out his arm.
Miss Lydia took it, giggling. “Oh, how gallant, sir. I am quite pleased to have your protection.”
“Lydia?”
“I’ll be fine, Rhain. Enjoy your evening.” The saucy girl fluttered her lashes at him.
She was a rare one, for a certainty, but Alastair wasn’t at all convinced this experience would be good for her future comportment.
Morgan stepped back into the room, and Alastair closed and locked the door.
“You wished a word with me, then?” He cocked his brow, looking somehow small in his big body.
“No, actually. I wanted to do this.” He slammed that big body face-first against the door, yanked down his coat so that his arms were trapped, and licked the side of his face. The faint smell of eau de cologne went perfectly with the lemony-sweet taste of his skin. His cock went poker-hard before he could even swear. “God. For such a prickly bastard, you taste so damn sweet.”
BECAUSE OF HIS wine-muddled head, it took Rhain a moment to realize what happened. He first thought Breckenridge planned to physically harm him, but then, with a tongue against his neck and the grind of a very hard erection against his hip, he realized the attack was for pleasure instead.
The slide of that warm tongue along his cheek tickled. He would have chuckled if not for his rigid cock pressed against the hard surface of the door. He moaned. There was no way to stop the sound from escaping his throat even if he wanted to.
“Ah, yes. You want me too.” Breckenridge rubbed against him. “I thought as much.”
Want him? Rhain had been wood-hard all evening. Needed him was a better description.
“Turn around, then.”
He struggled to remove his coat, which currently acted like manacles.
“No.”
He was again pushed against the wood.
“Don’t remove your constraint, or I will tie you to the table. I have plans for you, and that requires you being unable to touch me. Understand?”
Rhain nodded, staring over the pirate’s shoulder at the single row of large windows, one tied open, allowing in a cool breeze and the sound of waves lapping against wood.
“Is that acceptable to you?”
He thought for a moment and then nodded again.
“Good.”
Without another word, he was spun around and shoved against the door for the third time. This time, his arms were trapped behind him, and Breckenridge had an evil—no, not evil—wickedly playful grin and half-closed eyes.
“Don’t move, or I will tie you up. Now behave.”
The man’s silky tenor mentioning bindings nearly undid Rhain. Again all he could do was nod. And he kept nodding as the captain slipped to his knees, unfastening Rhain’s falls as he went.
Looking up, not breaking their gaze, Breckenridge slowly pulled the falls out of his way and untied drawers, dragging cool fingers across heated skin as he did so.
His aching prick loomed only inches away from wet, perfect lips.
The captain looked down and finished pulling the cloth away until Rhain’s prick sprang out. “Oh, bloody hell. If that is not the most perfect cock I’ve ever seen.” He licked from the base to the tip. “Even here you taste like a salty dessert.”
Good God! He was going to come. The slide of that warm tongue, his—what was it now, four months?—abstinence, and the alcohol, were altogether too much. He groaned and started to launch over into ecstasy.
“Oh no, not yet.” Breckenridge grabbed the base of his cock and squeezed. The pressure in his balls became bearable, but just barely.
“It…it’s been a while for me.”
“Aye, I can see that. Not to worry. If you blow, then we will start all over. Ready to commence?”
“God, yes! Suck me.”
“With pleasure.” Breckenridge clasped those beautiful lips onto his prick without releasing the clamp on the base. That bit of discomfort was enough to keep him from coming and allowed him to enjoy the surge of pleasure as the smooth male mouth slipped slowly up and down his shaft. The man hummed as he sank deep, and the vibration turned him nearly comatose with pleasure.
So close. So why did he stop the pirate at that critical juncture with a no and snapped open his eyes?
His pirate stopped immediately and sat on his haunches, staring at him.
“Good God, what are you waiting for? Come up here.”
At Rhain’s command, Breckenridge stood and in a fraction of a moment was so close, Rhain could feel heat radiating from the man.
“Help me off with this damn coat so I can touch you.” His coat was whipped off so fast, his wrists burned. Once free, he used unbound hands to undo the thick maroon belt hidden under the pirate’s dinner jacket. It came open with a smoothness of long use, and dark red showed under the buckle. He almost laughed at the idea of anyone wearing a belt that color, but then realized the pirate would look good draped in such a vibrant shade.
Belt out of the way, he opened his pirate’s trousers and extracted a gorgeous, long, thick cock.
“I want this,” he said as he reached and grasped the iron-hard length covered in smooth, silky skin.
Whimpering, Breckenridge grabbed his hand.
Watching his large, masculine hand wrapped around that pretty cock was akin to looking at a masterpiece. Perfect, precious, and worthy of admiration. After several slow strokes of the pirate’s cock, he glanced at the man’s handsome face. He looked right at Rhain, eyes half shuttered, head tilted back, lips moist and parted.
God, but he wanted to kiss that mouth. Truth be told, he’d desired to kiss this pirate from the first time he’d seen him lounging against the door at the Red Pig. And so he did just that.
Lowering his lips to his pirate’s, he watched the man’s eyes flutter shut. The light caress of these particular lips consumed all his senses. He no longer heard the noise of the ship or felt the sway of the boards under his feet. No longer smelled the leftover food. Closing his eyes, he reveled in the sensation of the kiss. His lips tingled, his ears buzzed, and his body hummed.
He could be content here for hours, but his pirate deepened the kiss, grabbed the back of his head, ground their lips together, then slipped in a tongue that tasted like apples and cinnamon.
The kiss was wet and loud; the sound of breathing, sucking, and licking entered his ears and raced down to tease his rod. A surge of lust like he’d never felt before took over. He spun them around and pressed Breckenridge against the door, slamming their cocks together.
He gripped both hard rods in one fist and started rocking.
Wrapping his arms around Rhain’s shoulders, Breckenridge leaned forward and sealed their lips more tightly together, and they kissed while Rhain stroked and rocked. The grip and glide of smooth skin over that long hard cock shot waves of pleasure through his overly aroused body. He was primed again and ready to blow, but he would not come until his pirate did. The man, so beautiful at all times, would be spectacular in the throes of passion.
Breaking the kiss, he leaned back and sped up his stroking. “Come for me, Captain. I want to know if you cry out or are silent when you spend.”
Mouth open, breaths coming in rapid gasps, Breck
enridge leaned his head against the wood, closed his eyes, and moaned, the sound erotic and corporeal. It would be a challenge to hold off long enough to watch his pirate’s climax.
It took no longer than a minute before his pirate writhed against him, head rocking from side to side, husky whimpers slipping from his lips. And then he came, the man’s whole body tensing as streams of hot semen covered Rhain’s hand and both their pricks. And just as he’d fantasized, Breckenridge was spectacular in his passion.
The combination of slick spend and hard cock against his own proved more than he could handle and launched him into that space that only another man could send him. A euphoric place of lust, passion, and danger. But this time, there was that and something more. Something that almost felt like sugar pumped directly into his veins. He shivered and embraced the transportation into bliss.
When the after-climax haze wore off, Rhain let Breckenridge go and collapsed into a chair, not bothering to do up his clothes.
“By God, that was magnificent,” Breckenridge whispered as he stumbled to his own chair. Then, with long limbs and lyrical movements, he poured two large glasses of port.
Breckenridge was so very graceful that occasionally he moved in such a way as to appear feline, or perhaps even feminine, but then he would move again and be all masculine beauty. Somehow the man was a perfect combination of both sexes. All through dinner, Rhain couldn’t help but watch the man who looked sensual as hell whether in his current black, white, and green formal wear or in his disreputable ship attire. He would gently brush that flirty braid over one shoulder, toy with the stem of his wineglass, and tilt his head to listen to Lydia or First Mate Dunn. He didn’t tilt his head when he listened to Rhain, though. No, then his gaze was direct, hungry, head held in a dominant, forthright manner. Like a predator assessing another dangerous beast.
The fascination he held for this man drove him to pleasure himself at night. Even after coming, he would have wet dreams with powerful releases that forced him to call out. He worried Lydia could hear him through the thin wall that separated their minuscule berths.
His Pirate (Second Chance Book 2) Page 5