And Trevor was her salvation.
Caroline was already in bed when she realized they had moved, and her captain was hovering as a conqueror gazing on his latest spoils. Conscious of her nudity, she reached for the covers and began to slide beneath.
“Tonight,” Trevor said as he pulled the sheets from her grasp and flung them aside, “let me be your blanket.”
Oh, dear.
After divesting himself of his shirt, he sat at the edge of the mattress and pulled off his boots--the breeches soon followed. The tide had turned, and Caroline knew the time for going back had passed.
For a scarce moment, opposing emotions flickered. Honor, loyalty, responsibility to herself--and her family--welled. Only to be supplanted by unquenchable desire, impossible to abate. This was her chance, her golden opportunity.
Caroline would not shy away from love.
And how she loved her captain.
Gathering her wits, she reminded herself he thought her an experienced paramour. Would not a woman of said profession enjoy the magnificent display of masculine physique? She hoped her aggressive ogling would temper her shock at seeing the front of a naked adult male again. Nervous anticipation bloomed, she prayed he would not notice. Though she knew little of the occupation, Caroline was certain no true ladybird would swoon at the sight of a--
And there it was, just as she’d remembered.
To her relief, when Trevor faced her in all his fully aroused glory, his cocky grin evidenced that he had misinterpreted her reaction as a declaration of his unrivaled endowment. Perhaps he would understand if she fainted.
“Are you ready for me, darling?” he inquired in a tone that held more than a hint of mischief.
The man had to be joking.
How on earth was she supposed to answer?
I do not know where I end and the bed begins.
I feel as if I am about to be ill.
I am terrified.
Just as quick, Caroline corrected herself. Trevor would never hurt her. Biting her lip, she nodded an affirmative, because she doubted her ability to utter coherent words.
With the exuberance of a boy, her seducer joined her on the bunk, stretched beside her, and claimed her mouth in fierce plunder. His fingertips traipsed a sensuous trail from her hip to the curve of her waist, along her ribcage, and traced circles on her breast, setting her skin ablaze and her head spinning. When he pinched her nipple, she moaned her appreciation.
Trevor broke their kiss and caught her wrist. “Touch me.” Guiding her hand, he led her to his hardened length.
As forged steel encased in the softest velvet, it was a miracle of flesh unlike any she had ever seen or felt. Unsure what to do, Caroline tightened her grip.
“Show me...how you...want it.”
His expression of bewilderment, her captain tutored her without complaint or comment. Then, to her amazement, he closed his eyes, set his forehead to hers, his face betraying unfettered ecstasy, and he groaned.
The mere sound of his pleasure tugged at her gut, inside her some unnamed force built, slowly at first, then charging to the fore. Raw hunger nipped at her senses, and sweet fire sang in her veins. That she could wield such power over him was enthralling and inspiring, at once. With wanton abandon, Caroline drew imaginary figures around the swollen tip and caressed him in an urgent rhythm.
“Enough.” Trevor halted her play. “Else this will be over before we get started.”
But she could not stop.
Desperate to know his body, to learn more in the elusive realm of desire, Caroline ran her hands across his rippled chest and skimmed his ribs. To her abiding delight, Trevor took her breast into his mouth, licked and suckled, teasing her without mercy. Then he turned to the other, and the decadent torment began anew. Slowly he eased down, worshipping every inch of her with his lips.
Offering herself with no inhibition, she arched into him. When Trevor reached her navel, he tickled her with his tongue until she squirmed and lauded his finesse with a sultry moan. He moved lower still, wedging between her legs. His fingers sifted through the curls at the apex of her thighs, bringing her alert. With light strokes, he parted her most intimate flesh and bent his head.
It was inconceivable to be kissed--there.
Fearing she would shatter into a million pieces, she held her breath. Eyes fixed on the wooden beams overhead, she stared, mouth agape, tears streaming her temples, as passion tasted her for the first time. To be wanted, to be desired, had been unknown--until now, and the experience was more beautiful than anything she could have imagined.
In that moment, Caroline truly surrendered.
Trevor could do with her as he wished, and she would not resist. When a finger entered her, she cried out, her loins erupting in flames that spread as a firestorm, consuming her from head to feet. Wave upon wave of sumptuous heat sashayed over her skin, and a strange yet enticing hunger blossomed in her belly. Higher and higher, Caroline soared to a dizzying pinnacle.
And then it happened.
Reality suspended, time stood still. Then the world turned, and her last vestiges of sanity shifted with it. She screamed, but it came as a mere echo to her ears through a haze of lust. Drowning in a tide of sensuous pleasure, the gently reared society miss was reborn a woman through incomparable release.
#
Trevor knew as long as he lived that he would never forget Caroline’s face as it looked now. Dew-kissed, flushed, lips swollen, and eyes half-open, her expression so abandoned, so willing--and so trusting. Foreign emotions rose in his throat, threatening to choke him, and he was positive he had just discovered the unimaginable talent of the charming courtesan. She could make a man feel as if he were the most desirable creature in existence.
As if he were her first and last lover.
Never in his life had he wanted anyone so much. He had tried to deny her, tried to resist her. She had been aboard his ship for more than two weeks, sharing his cabin no less, and he had yet to bed her. But the more he spurned his desires, the stronger they grew. Now he was engulfed in need, a need only Mistress Caroline could fill.
Plagued by a burgeoning ache in his loins, he sought to ease his arousal in the way he knew best. But before he yielded his faculties, Trevor feasted once more on the pliant flesh between her legs. She was the sweetest morsel he had ever sampled, and the throaty hum of her appreciation spurred him. Flicking her taut nub with his tongue, he laved and suckled, until the last threads of control fled him, and he ravaged her with his mouth.
Again, she cried out his name, and her body went rigid with completion. He could wait no longer; he had to have her. In seconds, Trevor settled himself over her and lowered his hips. With one powerful thrust, he sheathed himself fully inside her.
She screamed, but it was a scream of agony, and his heart stopped.
It was impossible to miss the filmy barrier, proof of her virginity that he had breached.
He froze, his flesh held deep within hers. “Caroline?”
She lay motionless beneath him, and though her eyes were squeezed shut, tears seeped from the corners, evidencing her distress. And while his mind shouted denial, Trevor suspected he had just secured his place in hell.
But it was unthinkable.
Images played in his head, again and again. There was her shy grin that never failed to disarm him, foam teasing the rose-tipped peaks of her breasts as she slumped forward in an effort to shield herself from his gaze. He recalled the winsome blushes that colored her cheeks every time he undressed in front of her, the way she shivered in his embrace when he kissed her, and how she had swooned during his first attempt at seduction. Hints and indications of her innocence had been everywhere, had he chosen to see them.
It dawned on him slowly; no man had ever occupied the place where he now rested. Caroline was well and truly his, because he had claimed her virtue. The knowledge worked on him in ways Trevor could not understand.
In that instant, everything changed.
Ob
sessive possessiveness surged within him. Whatever their stations, whatever their lot in life, for eternity, he swore he would be the only man to touch her thus. When they returned to London, he would bestow on her gifts and a home worthy of the treasure she had given him. A contract would be drawn to ensure he remained her sole benefactor, because he would not share this bounty.
Descending to his elbows, he framed her face in his hands. “Shh. It is all right, love.” Pressing his lips to her forehead, he tried to calm her. “I promise it will pass.”
He kissed her eyelids, the tip of her nose, the apples of both cheeks, and then took her mouth in a gentle caress. Desperate to reassure Caroline that he would not hurt her anymore than he already had, Trevor waited with patience of which he had not thought himself capable.
After a few minutes, her body began to relax. Her arms raised, her hands once again twined in his hair. When Caroline pulled him close, returned his kiss, intensified it, he pumped his hips. In deference to her delicate state, Trevor withdrew, smooth and unhurried, his spine flexing, and repeated the same conservative cadence. Moving on her, inside her, in monotonous sweeps, he schooled her in an intimate invasion.
Primitive lust, raw desire gnawed at his senses and threatened to devour him. But something in the dark recesses of his conscience stayed the beast within. Like the finest French brandy, he savored her tender flesh, wallowing in the tightness of her succulent, untried sheath.
With a look of wonder, she said, “Oh, my.”
“Oh, my, indeed.” Trevor could not help but smile, as he reached for her knee.
Dipping her chin, Caroline followed his lead, and he was surprised to discover a woman could blush from her head to her toes. Rising, his arms braced, he quickened the pace, thrusting deeper and harder. And she was right there with him, every step of the way, feeding his hunger, matching it with her own. As he was about to lose himself, he stopped.
“No.”
Trevor chuckled at her unabashed demand. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Yes.” She averted her gaze, heeled his flanks, and turned red as a tomato.
Since no gentleman would leave a lady wanting, Trevor gave her his weight and seized her lips in a savage attack. Wrapping his arms under her shoulders, he cradled her head in his hands. Holding her firm in his grip, he set a feverish pace, pumping his hips in an urgent measure. Beneath him, Caroline tensed as she peaked and gave her scream into his mouth.
The decadent ripples of her climax seduced him; he teetered on the precipice of heaven on earth. Thrusting once more, he spilt his seed in what seemed an endless rush of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
#
A few hours later, Trevor woke to the flutter of delicate kisses on his skin. It took him a few seconds to marshal his wits and realize where he was and, more importantly, the identity of the woman sprawled underneath him. Propping himself on his elbows, he gazed into Mistress Caroline’s baby blues.
“Hello.” In the dim light of the few lanterns still burning, she favored him with a radiant smile.
“Well, hello, yourself.”
“I am starved.” She bit her lip, and he would wager his ship that her cheeks were flushed a captivating pink. “Are you hungry?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.” He wrinkled his nose. “But I believe our dinner will be cold as ice.”
“I don’t care.” Her eyes flared. “I am famished.”
Despite inclinations to the contrary, Trevor withdrew from her body, eased from the bed, and retrieved his robe. A small, crimson stain on the sheets caught his attention. “Perhaps you should clean yourself.”
Covering her breasts with her arms, Caroline scooted to the edge of the mattress, accepted the familiar swath of silk he held for her, stood and cinched the belt at her waist. “Oh, dear. I ache where I did not know I could ache.” With tentative steps, she walked to the washstand, as he pulled on breeches.
“I am afraid that is a common occurrence.” He lifted the lids and assessed the state of their dinner. As suspected, the fare had cooled. “Well, it was stew, but it does not look quite right.”
“Try stirring it.”
Frowning, Trevor picked up a spoon and swirled the congealed goo. “I do not think it is helping.”
Caroline approached the table. “You’re right.” She giggled. “I have seen paste that appeared more appetizing. Here, separate the meat and vegetables from the gravy.”
He pulled out a chair. “Shall we dine?”
Over a bland meal, they shared bits of conversation. And though his companion was as entertaining as ever, several questions reverberated in his brain, but Trevor was unsure how to broach the subject.
What had a naked virgin been doing aboard Dalton Randolph’s ship?
He had believed Caroline was Randolph’s mistress. After the events that had transpired between them, Trevor knew he had been wrong. Yet the lady had never refuted his assumption. Had her maidenhead been auctioned?
Who was she in truth?
What was her background?
Why had she not confided in him?
The source of his conundrum stood and leaned forward to collect his empty plate. The folds of her robe gaped, affording a splendid view of her bare bosom. A wicked erection roared to life, and his heartbeat quickened. He grasped her wrist and took the dish from her hand. “Leave it.”
“Did you not have enough?” She blinked. “I have some potatoes left.”
“I do not want food.”
Casting him a shy grin, she acquiesced as he steered her into his lap. With ruthless control of his faculties, Trevor had her naked and straddling his hips in less than a minute. As she eased down, he guided his length inside her, and a moan passed her lips.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.” Caroline gazed into his eyes. “I think you’re lovely.”
He nipped the tip of her nose. “You are lovely, too.”
She shifted and sucked in a breath. “What do I do?”
“Pretend I am your favorite mount and ride.”
True to form, and to their mutual benefit, Caroline applied herself with the same enthusiasm with which she took to her chores--not that he expected any different. As Trevor buried his face in her breasts, he recalled their unfinished business.
They could bloody well talk in the morning.
#
The hinges on the door of his cabin creaked, interrupting his slumber. Trevor hugged the supple feminine body he’d spent the better portion of the night exploring, made a mental note to speak with George about the need for discretion, because the first mate was the only crewmember who dared enter the captain’s quarters without knocking, and yawned. Whatever the reason for the intrusion, the entire French Navy could not coax him from his bunk.
The familiar hiss of steel being unsheathed brought him awake and alert in an instant.
It was a sound every warrior knew, a call to arms. Upon opening his eyes, he found himself staring down the pointed end of a sword. Thinking first of Caroline and her safety, he pulled her close, attempting to shield her from the unforeseen threat. Still asleep, she muttered incoherent babble and nuzzled his chest.
“Just what are you about?” he whispered with ire. “And who gave you permission to enter my cabin?”
Recognition dawned, confusion rode in its wake, and Trevor sat up. Movement had him glancing toward the foot of the bed. In a state of complete bewilderment, he looked right, then left, and wondered if he were in the middle of some horrible nightmare.
The men who had invaded his quarters were no strangers. They were, in fact, nobles of his set, but that did little to dispel his discomfort or explain why one was being so provoking.
“What in bloody hell are you two doing here?” he asked.
Weapon unwavering, the interloper responded, “I have a better question. What in bloody hell is she doing here?”
“That is none of your damn business.”
“On the contrary.” His former naval comrade appeared q
uite put out. “She is my business.”
“I beg to differ.” Trevor would tolerate no interference where Mistress Caroline was concerned--not even from an old acquaintance. “If you believe you have a prior claim on my lady, hear me when I say it must perforce yield to mine.”
“Is that so?” The flat of the blade shook as the captain of the Tristan appeared on the verge of a violent tantrum.
“It is, because I beat you to her prize. If she was meant for you, then I shall compensate you, whatever the price.” Trevor held the stare of his challenger, even as the dangerous metal docked within inches of his throat. “Careful, Rylan. I will not relinquish her without a fight.”
“You will relinquish her with a fight.” The notorious hothead seemed ready to explode. “I demand satisfaction.”
“For what?”
“As if you do not know.”
The lady in question stirred in his embrace. The blanket dropped to her waist as Caroline raised her arms above her head and stretched. Trevor would have preferred she not bare her wares for the delectation of his adversaries.
“Oh, my God!” His expression one of fury, Rylan’s face turned beet-red.
The former virgin rubbed her eyes. “Blake, is that you?”
“Don’t forget me, kitten.” The partner in crime addressed her in a term of endearment, sending a shiver of dark foreboding that traipsed Trevor’s spine.
“Damian?” She peered at the figure that had been standing silent.
“Kitten?” Confusion settled as a lead ball in the pit of his belly, and Trevor arched his brows. Had he not claimed her maidenhead, he would have wondered if she had serviced both dukes. “You know them?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“For the love of Christ, Caroline, cover yourself.” The man averted his gaze, as if he were embarrassed.
The cohort behaved in similar odd fashion, and Trevor was perplexed. “Were you meant to serve both these men?”
Enter The Brethren (The Brethren of the Coast) Page 8