The Pirate Lord

by Vanda Vadas

  It would destroy them both.

  He raised his head, watching every nuance in her expression, her reaction. She whimpered in protest, lashes fluttering against her cheeks. Her mouth opened and closed in the smallest degrees, lips pursing in search of his. Her breathing had quickened. She looked ripe for pleasure.

  Hell and damnation! This had to stop.

  For her sake.

  Her fingers interlocked behind his neck, making it difficult to pull away. He drew his knees up either side of her thighs to straddle her hips. When he pushed himself up to sit, she came with him. Her hands unclasped and slid to his shoulders, digging into the skin around his still-fresh wound. He winced.

  Her eyes flashed open.

  ‘Let go, Eloise.’

  She slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. ‘Don’t go.’

  ‘You won’t be alone. I’ll sit in the chair. You need sleep.’

  She shook her head against his chest and held him tighter. ‘What I need … What I want is for you to …’

  It was hard enough to pretend he didn’t feel the shape and heat of her full breasts through his shirt. Harder still not to inhale her delicate scent. But to breathe air that carried her unspoken plea? An invitation to sample the delights of her body? Hell! He’d gone mad. Intense desire was playing tricks with his mind. ‘This is wrong.’

  She lifted her head from his chest, as though to seek his gaze. ‘Wrong? “Next time you feel an urge to get to know me better, be prepared to get to know all of me.” Were these not your words?’

  She’d remembered. How not to damage her pride? ‘Eloise, you’re not thinking clearly.’

  ‘Then think about this. I’m not sorry we met. I know I’m blind because I was foolish enough to follow you. You’ve abducted me with good reason, I’m sure, and I intend to learn why.’ She drew in a shuddering breath. ‘But what I’m asking you …’

  Damn, but she looked breathtaking. Had she been any other woman he’d have had her many times over by now. If he didn’t escape the bed before his next heartbeat, he’d find himself buried deep between her legs.

  He peeled her hands from his body. In one swift, agile move he cleared off the bed.

  She lunged for him, hands clawing the air. ‘Zach.’

  ‘No,’ he said stiffly.

  Her head followed the sound of his voice. ‘I’m not ashamed to tell you I want you … to touch me.’

  Her forthright confession winded him like a boot to the chest. ‘You’re asking me to ruin you.’

  ‘Haven’t you already? My reputation is in tatters. Ruined the moment you hoisted me up onto your horse and carried me off. Blind or not, my life as I knew it will never be the same. Society will shun me. I’ll bring disgrace upon my family. Better they think me dead.’

  ‘No.’ He took a step towards her. She was right. He’d been so obsessed with revenge that he’d overlooked how his actions would affect her future prospects. If he were to admit to another truth, it hadn’t mattered who she was the night they’d first met. Somehow he’d known she would become his future. The moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d wanted her.

  She shuffled to the edge of the bed. ‘All things considered, there’s a positive side to having my reputation ruined. Perhaps I should thank you.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Stealing me away from His Grace.’

  Her sigh sounded to him very much like relief. ‘His Grace?’ Zach took a step closer, fists forming at his sides.

  ‘It’s my brother’s wish that I should marry the duke.’

  The idea of it turned Zach’s stomach. Bad enough she was engaged to the man. ‘Do you love him?’

  She shook her head. ‘No.’

  His fists unclenched.

  ‘Tonight, my innocence was almost forcibly taken,’ she continued. Her nerves had taken hold. ‘Now, if only for selfish reasons, I’m offering it to you.’ She swung her legs over the bed and stood up.

  ‘Don’t move.’ Zach stayed beyond her reach.

  She stepped in his direction. Hell! Just like her to disobey an order. Clever minx knew he would catch her if she stumbled. ‘Stop, Eloise!’

  She did, and extended him her hand. ‘I’m not asking you to love me, Zach. I’m asking you to make love to me.’

  How could he refuse? She stood, gloriously semi-naked, like a gift from the gods, offering up her virtue. He longed to pull her into his arms, to inhale the scent of her skin and hair. To worship with his mouth and hands her porcelain shoulders and breasts; to cup the auburn triangle between her thighs.

  Firm resolve slipped away with every suffocating second. The fire within singed, then burned, his self-control. The tight rein he’d held on his carnal frustration finally snapped.

  In that moment it struck Zach that he would let no other man touch her. She was his. He would school her in the ways of lovemaking. Take her where she would experience all that was exquisitely physical and otherworldly. He would possess her completely. ‘You’ll regret this, Eloise.’

  Her hand fell limp by her side. She shook her head, her mouth grim. ‘Regret would be if I were to marry His Grace. Though I should think now he wouldn’t want me.’ She offered her hand again in a timid gesture. ‘Regret would be never having lain with you.’

  Zach reached for Eloise and wrapped her in his fierce embrace. Damn his half-brother to the darkest depths in hell. Gareth was by no means the measure of respectability, and the idea of Eloise believing herself worthless was heart-shattering.

  She was wrong on another account as well.

  He, Miles Zachary Fenton, was His Grace.

  He wanted her, and by God he would show her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Zach kissed Eloise, firm and sure, cradling her face in his hands. His mouth lifted a mere fraction to whisper her name on a ragged breath.

  Her faint sigh gave him all the encouragement he needed to gently divest her of the torn nightshift, scrunching it into a ball and tossing it over his shoulder.

  He scooped her up in his arms and laid her on the bed. His shirt came swiftly over his head and fell to the floor at his feet. He eased himself down onto the bed alongside her. Had she been able to look into his eyes she would see his desperate need for her and a vulnerability he had until now kept hidden.

  His gaze swept the length of her naked body, right down to the tip of her curling toes. ‘You’re beautiful, Eloise.’

  She turned on her side to face him, her palm touching, for the first time, his bare skin. He tensed against the fiery sensation of delicate fingers trailing through his chest hair. Her hand flattened and paused over his heart. Was she quick enough to count each beat? He jerked in reaction to her fingers brushing over his nipple.

  She retracted her hand. ‘Did I hurt you?’

  Zach groaned. ‘No. Quite the opposite.’ Her innocence had the effect of an aphrodisiac. She had much to learn about the power and pleasure of a simple touch. How privileged he was to be the one to show her. Propping himself up on one elbow, he curled his other hand behind her neck, tilting her face towards him so that she rolled onto her back. ‘I’m going to kiss you again.’

  She lay there with eyes closed, ready, willing, waiting for him. Her senses would be heightened one hundred-fold. She couldn’t see or anticipate what he would do, or from what direction or angle he might touch her. The thought drove Zach to a fever pitch. God give him strength to keep a tight rein on his near-bursting arousal.

  He flicked his tongue once over her lips and drew back, eager to watch her reaction. She licked her lips as if tasting him, and sighed. He teased her in this way again, sweeping his tongue along the seam of her lips, back and forth.

  ‘Open your mouth for me, Eloise.’ A simple request so trustingly obeyed. He bent to her parted lips and delved inside. The vibration of her whimper against his tongue sent him into a heady spin. Altering the angle of her head, he deepened the kiss and explored the cushiony flesh of her mouth.

  He
r hand latched onto his wrist, using it as leverage to slide her body closer to his, forcing his kiss even deeper. A groan escaped him like the rumblings of a looming thunderous storm.

  He raised his head to pave another brand of hot kisses over her cheek, down her neck and across one shoulder.

  ‘Eloise.’ He waited until she’d opened her eyes. ‘Drop your hand beside your head.’ Again, so trusting, she did as he asked. His hand slid from beneath her neck, to then lock his fingers between hers. Her other hand went to his shoulder.

  He paused a moment, wanting his next touch to take her by surprise, knowing her anticipation would build with every second he remained idle. Creamy breasts rose and fell with her laboured breathing. His tongue glanced across one rosy nipple. She gasped and arched her body up. His tongue flicked the tip of the nipple, swirling around and laving it. He drew it into his mouth, sucking it to a hard peak.

  His shoulder muscles tensed as her nails dug into his skin. Her soft murmurs drove him to the brink of madness and yet he’d hardly begun her lessons in bed.

  His tongue traced a path beneath the swell of one full breast. Again he drew back, watching the way sensation and pleasure left her panting. He happily waited for her to settle, to guess what he might do next. Or had she had enough? ‘Do you want me to stop?’

  Her eyes flashed open and she frowned. ‘No.’

  Zach smiled, triumphant, and subjected her to haphazard kisses over her skin. His lips wandered over her curves as if it were the first time he’d mapped a woman’s breasts with his mouth. And what a breathtaking journey. He’d need no rescuing here.

  She quivered under his roaming lips. He could hardly wait to witness her first shuddering climax. Already he’d discovered she was most sensitive below her ear, in the hollow of her throat, and on the underside of her breast.

  He paid homage to her other breast by tweaking the nipple between his fingers. He gently pulled it taut, applying enough pressure to draw from her the sweetest moan.

  Her hand curled around his forearm. ‘Zach.’

  It pleased him to hear his name in her breathless gasp. He laced his fingers through hers again and held her hand down above her head. When his teeth nipped and grazed the rosy aureole, she arched and tipped her head back, thrusting her nipple into his mouth. He licked it and then blew a thin stream of air over her breast. Her skin instantly turned to gooseflesh. She writhed beneath him and cried out.

  Music to his ears. He paused to indulge in this picture of passion.

  Eloise.

  She was anxious for his touch. Eager for more. The markers were there: her breathing deepened; she raised a bent knee and slid her foot back down the sheet, moving restlessly; her hips gently rotated and rocked from side to side.

  With the gentlest of pressure, he laid a hand over her belly. It twitched, tightened, and relaxed. He caressed her stomach in small circular motions gradually widening his reach to venture over the curve of her hips, up and over her breasts, and leisurely down one thigh.

  ‘Will you part your legs for me?’ His words came out in a husky breath. At first, he thought she hadn’t heard him. If she’d lost her nerve he would understand. But then, inch by inch, she opened to him, exposing her most private and vulnerable femininity.

  A heart-stopping prize. Every drop of blood inside him turned to liquid fire. It roared in his ears. Growing hunger for Eloise intensified with the sight of her so willing and accessible in his bed. His breathing faltered with the scent of her sex. His swollen erection throbbed. Curse the agony of these breeches.

  ‘Zach?’ Eyes wide, her hand unerringly found his cheek.

  He turned his mouth into her palm and kissed it. What he would do next required her complete faith in him. He couldn’t see it in her eyes. ‘Do you trust me with your body, Eloise?’

  Her expression turned grave. ‘Yes. But frustration takes a new meaning in a way I can’t describe.’

  Didn’t he know it! ‘Try.’

  She hesitated. ‘Like …’

  ‘Like?’

  ‘Like a bird taking first flight. Falling and …’

  Zach’s mouth curved into a knowing smile. Ruthless intent made him trail his fingers indolently up and along her inner thigh.

  She gasped. ‘And rising …’

  His fingers stilled.

  ‘Falling again …’

  There it was in her voice, the keen edge of sexual frustration. Zach’s finger gained another inch of ground.

  Her eyes fluttered closed and her breathing came in fits and starts. ‘And … rising.’

  ‘Then let me take you higher.’

  Hell. This had to be more tormenting for him than it was for her. He continued the path along her thigh, skirting up and around the thatch of auburn curls, working his way back down the opposite thigh.

  Candlelight illuminated the pink folds between her legs. Zach breathed in the scent of her desire. Intoxicating, heady, irreversibly addictive.

  His every urge and instinct demanded he remove his breeches and thrust into her. But hard-won control put her needs before his. The heel of his palm settled over her mound, fingers gently stroking her cleft. When her hips lifted to meet his touch, he parted her and dipped one finger inside.

  She inhaled sharply, eyes flaring wide. Zach’s skin tingled with the sharp slap of her hand on his wrist. His shoulder flexed under the sting of her nails.

  ‘Say the word, Eloise, and I’ll stop.’ God forbid he hurt or frighten her. He watched her closely, looking for the smallest sign which might suggest her retreat or discomfort.

  She took a deep breath. Zach’s heart flipped when her hand fell to the sheet, eyes fluttering closed again.

  Permission to proceed.

  He kissed the corners of her mouth, her lips warm and as soft as the moist flesh clutching his finger. Sail the stars. No. He soared beyond the stars!

  Slowly, he withdrew, gliding back in and out. When he slid a second finger in, Eloise tilted her hips and clawed the sheet.

  The tiny bud between her folds swelled beneath the strokes and pressure of his thumb. At the same time, his lips returned to her breasts and neck, seeking out the sensitive spots he’d discovered moments earlier.

  At precisely the right moment, he raised his head to gaze upon her. To bear witness to and memorise the power and pitch of her first sexual release. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and deeper pink. Cherry-tinged nipples stood erect. Her head rolled to one side in the grip of her climax. Her inner muscles throbbed.

  With the last of her shudders, Zach drew her into his tight embrace. He’d discovered the elation of what made her whimper, how to elicit a moan, and had initiated her into the realm of physical pleasure.

  Gratified, he kissed her forehead.

  Eloise lay drowsy and delirious in a circle of masculine strength.

  Zach. Beneath her ear, she heard the rhythm of his racing heart.

  She’d never imagined his mouth and hands capable of working her into a frenzy, and then to safely deliver her from euphoric splendour to tranquil calm.

  He’d unleashed in her an untapped reservoir of sensitivity and sensation. How else might he make her body sing? Already she yearned to experience more, to be able to savour it longer.

  Her hand drifted across his broad chest. As before, he twitched when she brushed over his nipple. Curious, she grazed it again.

  His hand came over hers. ‘How was your first flight, my dove?’

  She smiled at his humour, liking the warmth in his voice. ‘Magnifique.’

  ‘C’est bon. Anything else?’

  ‘Oui. Don’t ever clip my wings.’

  His rich laughter set her off. It was the first time they laughed together. The first time they’d shared something special and sacred. They had established a bond, a connection, through intimacy.

  Her heart turned a corner.

  It softened, opened.

  And let him in.

  Lost in the moment, it didn’t matter to Eloise that
she was blind, or that he held her captive aboard his ship. The whys and wherefores of his secrets seemed inconsequential. What mattered was the solid strength beneath her body and cheek. It brought her joy to hear the rumbling deep tones in Zach’s laugh and to feel the vibration in his body beneath her fingers. Her hand swept down his stomach, unintentionally crossing beyond his buckled breeches.

  His laughter broke off on a hiss while his hand, like a white-hot manacle, locked on hers. A startling revelation. He was just as receptive to her touch as she was to his. The balance of power shifted like the hard length beneath her palm.

  Limited mobility of her hand did not stop her fingers stroking him there. He groaned like a wounded animal. Intrigued, Eloise turned her lips to his chest and hit another mark. Her tongue darted out to lick his nipple. In swift reaction, he groaned and tensed, muscles bunching.

  ‘Where did you learn to do that?’ His gruff question carried with it a vein of suspicion.

  ‘You taught me.’

  His laugh sounded like relief. ‘So I did. What else have you learned?’

  ‘Perhaps you should free my hand.’ Eloise sensed his reluctance. His chest rose and fell on a shaky breath. ‘I’m not asking you to choose between life and death, Zach.’

  ‘I’m not so sure.’

  Despite the amusement in his tone, Eloise’s body stirred with need when his arousal pulsed beneath her hand. How would it feel to have him inside her? She stroked him again. ‘Zach?’

  ‘Yes?’

  Rising need cried out for fulfilment. ‘I’m ready to fly again.’

  He swallowed, and spoke as if under excessive strain. ‘Are you sure?’

  She nodded, his chest hair tickling her cheek. He freed her hand but his body tensed again as if he were blind, bracing himself against the unknown. She trailed her fingers across material, from one lean hip to the other. Her palm smoothed over his iron-hard length, up and down. How could she possibly accommodate him?