by Ruby Duvall
She was delightfully unaffected and jutted her chin. “Stop trying to steer the conversation. What I’m proposing doesn’t involve copulating, especially not a three-way.”
Ryder’s eyebrows shot up at her blunt language. Had she been talking to the mademoiselles?
“I am listening, madam.” He pulled off his vest and dropped it on his coat. Next, he went after his cravat. The damn thing was too tight anyway.
“That man last night, Mr. Webb, intends to arrest your brother for smuggling and murder. You don’t want Phillip to go to prison or to be executed. Am I right so far?”
“You are,” he said after a pause. His cravat came away with little trouble. He jerked his shirt out of the waist of his trousers, becoming more impatient as his cock became harder. What was it about her that so one-sidedly affected him? She resisted but he could not. What element in her eyes was so compelling that even their current conversation despite its very serious nature was still provocative?
Her eyes followed his movements. “And I take it you found him last night.”
“Perhaps.”
“He has debts, and I bet you’re still going to smuggle to pay them off.”
He sat on the bed to remove his boots, not responding.
“I can do bookkeeping and set up buyers.”
Ryder froze at that. “Truly? I would not expect a woman to have such a background to recommend her.” Dropping his other boot to the floor, he saw in her expression that he had offended.
“How far we have come,” she said dully.
He stood. “Well, I cannot fathom that a businessman would employ a woman in a capacity to test such a talent.”
“Would you?” she asked.
He could hear the challenge in her tone and answered her question with a question. “What experience do you possess?”
“I ran a business by myself for more than a year—an antiques shop. Brian was the one who acquired pieces, but I took care of everything else. Daybooks, invoices, shipping…”
“You are well acquainted with a system of record. Impressive.” He unfastened the buckles at his knees. “Is this Brian the husband who abandoned you?”
If her cold expression were tangible, gooseflesh would’ve risen on his skin. “He was not my husband,” she said. She hated the man, did she? Ryder removed his hose and then unbuttoned his breeches. Her eyes went to his hands. “S-stop that.” Her reactions were fascinating. Her nervous resistance in contrast to her hatred of Brian only incited him.
“I am damn curious,” he said softly. “Who is he, madam?”
“It’s none of your business.” Her hands were fisted in stubbornness and even in the candlelight he saw the flush of anger in her cheeks, but he would not be dissuaded.
“Is he in the colonies? Did he send you here?” He pushed his breeches down. She seemed to brace for the sight of his nudity, but the length of his shirt veiled his privates. Her eyes returned to his face.
“In a manner of speaking. Look, I’m just suggesting that I help you with your venture. I-I’m not offering anything but that. I promise I am perfectly qua—” He pulled off his shirt, successfully distracting her from whatever else she might’ve said. Unabashed, Ryder stood there for her inspection, which was splendidly thorough. Her breaths came faster and shallower. Her eyes studied him with such fascination and he knew that despite her apparent knowledge, she was a stranger to the delights of the flesh. He would be glad to introduce her. Personally.
“Can we not also reap the benefits of intimacy?”
“Indulging vice while masterminding a criminal enterprise? That’s how your brother got into so much trouble.”
A corner of Ryder’s mouth shot up. “I’m going to kiss you.”
“You shouldn’t.” Her gaze bounced between his face and his loins. She was nearly panting. He closed the distance between them. “We shouldn’t—” He reached for her, but she hastily backed away.
“I am a considerate lover, Samantha,” he assured her. “Was I not considerate last night?” He could tell her heart was racing. Her breasts rose and fell with her quick breaths. She chewed her lush lower lip and he found himself licking his own lips.
“You were,” she admitted. “At least until afterward.”
“Upon reflection, I admit more than a modicum of regret.” It was the furthest he would go to apologize. “I cannot deny myself more of you.” Needing the sensation, he grasped his cock and stroked himself. He imagined her lips where his hand was and wondered how soft they would feel.
“I’m not interested in a partnership with such…addendums.”
He grinned. “What flam. Only last night you begged me to rend your maidenhead. I rather believe we could both greatly enjoy such an arrangement.” He followed her as she backed away. “You will be pleasured well, madam.Pleasured very well,” he promised. She hit the wall and pressed herself tightly to it.
He lifted one hand and laid it against her cheek. When she closed her eyes, he smoothed his other hand over her hip and whispered her name.
Her heart hammered. Her sex tingled. Ryder stepped close and his hand slid to the back of her head. She parted her mouth and waited, but he left her lips wanting and laid a soft kiss behind her ear.
“Yes.” She didn’t realize she had said it until it was done. His mouth moved gently over her neck and a shiver prickled across her body. He took apart the knot in her belt and pushed the robe off her shoulders. The room was chilly but Ryder was warm and she twined her arms around him. The ponytail of his hair tickled.
He grasped her hips and pulled her to him. His cock was hard against her stomach and its heat seeped right through her linen chemise. One of his hands went to the back of her leg. He raised her knee and hooked it over his elbow. A shuddering exhale was the only sound she could make when he lifted her chemise, removing the thin barrier between their skins. He then bent his legs, dragging his shaft down her abdomen and across the damp curls covering her vagina.
His cock popped free of the press of their bodies and rested against the swollen lips of her vagina, almost parting them. She heard a high-pitched sound and realized it was coming from her. She canted her hips, shuddering at the thought of him taking her right there, standing up.
With his next thrust, the head of his cock slid between the lips of her vagina, though not yet penetrating. His deep groan was unreserved. He pumped his hips, his erection riding the slick seam and almost catching, almost plunging inside.
She was reeling at the sensation, gasping. His hand squeezed the back of her thigh. Her arms clamped tightly around his shoulders. They stood there against the wall, their lower bodies grinding against one another.
Her name came out on a growl. He tossed her other leg over his arm and lifted her. The next thrust slid right in and she cried out.
Ryder stopped, half-buried in her. “Are you all right?” His voice didn’t sound like his own.
She gained a better grip on his shoulders and also tried to get a better grip full stop. He had fogged things up again and she was more than a little turned-on at how quickly he had done so. As for pain, it was minor.
“Yeah. Yes, I’m all right,” she finally got out. He adjusted his hold on her, palming her ass, and carried her toward the vanity where the single candle sat.
“Hold on to me,” he whispered. His cock sank home.
“Ah,” she moaned. His hands slowly moved her over his cock, up and down. Jesus, he was strong. In. Yes, that felt good. Out. His shoulders bunched beneath her hands. In again.
She knew why he had chosen this position and this exact spot. He controlled the speed, where her hands were. She couldn’t easily turn her face away or hide her expression. The candlelight let him see every jolt of pleasure, every gasp and sigh.
Gradually, torturously, he upped the pace until she was slapping against his hips. That dizzy sensation was so close.
“Look in the mirror.”
She didn’t recognize herself and—oh God yes—she could see him p
lowing into her. His biceps were bulging. His hips pumped like well-oiled pistons. Her vagina was hot and slick from the sight.
“You’re gonna make me come.” She squeezed his cock inside her.
“Christ,” he growled.
Before she knew it she was on the bed. His hips were ramming into her. The heat of orgasm burst and she keened as her sex grasped his cock.
Ryder hissed, pulling out of her and stepping back. Her feet found the floor and her shoulders settled deeper into the mattress. The heat spread to her arms and legs, making her languid.
The candlelight outlined just how wet and hard he was. She thought he might finish on her, but he didn’t touch himself. She would’ve moved to do it for him, but her limbs were like lead and she just wanted to catch her breath. So did Ryder, it seemed, who was panting like he had run a mile.
“Pacing yourself?” she asked when she was able to form words.
“Take that off.” He gestured to the chemise bunched up around her waist.
She swallowed and sat up. Her head was swimming but she lifted the chemise.
“Slowly.” His hand was at the base of his cock, though not moving. She revealed her breasts gradually, letting her hair spill out as she pulled the chemise free of her head.
“Lie back on the pillows.”
Sam wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but she didn’t care. It was obvious that he wasn’t done with her and didn’t that just get her heart jogging. She scooted back on the bed, arranged the pillows to support her, and lay back.
“Spread your hair out.” His hand stroked his cock. His moan was almost inaudible as she fanned her hair across the pillow.
“Now open your legs. Touch yourself.”
She was strangely embarrassed all over again, even after being fucked standing up. Bringing her feet up and planting them shoulder-width apart, she left one hand by her head and smoothed the other down her stomach until she met the curls of her sex.
“Wider.” His voice was so deep. She shifted her feet farther apart, but only a few inches. Her longest finger slid between the lips of her vagina and her cheeks burned at how wet it was. She then found her clit. It was still super sensitive and she jumped.
Ryder climbed onto the bed and sat on his heels between her feet. “Wider,” he repeated and pushed her knees apart until her legs flopped open. “Now let me watch.”
She slowly rubbed her clit. Damn, it felt good. Ryder resumed fisting his erection, his eyes all over her, especially what was happening between her thighs. Little noises eked from her throat. She palmed her breast with her free hand and imagined it was his hand. She plucked and squeezed the nipple. Pleasant shocks shot straight to her sex.
He hissed again and took his hand from his erection. “Did you like it standing up? How did it feel?”
“Vertical.” She smiled at his bark of laughter. “I felt wild.”
“You liked it.”
“Yes,” she breathed, rubbing harder. She lifted her hips, urging that sensation to wash over her again. A noise caught in Ryder’s throat.
She was glorious. A beautiful, virile woman. He had nearly spent himself when she came. Her sex tightened around him and he had to pull out.
He would not think of her offer, though his mind pestered him with all the ways in which she would prove a boon, both in his bed and out of it. It had been many months since his last tumble with a woman and he could not let his cock dictate his actions.
Just watching her pleasure herself though…she knew what she liked and her fingers were tireless. She writhed and the firm mounds of her breasts bounced. Her teeth clenched and she pressed her head into the pillow.
Ryder needed to have this woman. Now.
In a rush, he was on top of her. His body blocked some of the light but he didn’t have the patience to move them. She groaned, tucking her knees back and hooking her wrists behind his neck. He spread the lips of her sex and his cock sank into her. The air caught in her throat and he couldn’t help his own gruff sigh as he fully sheathed himself.
He slid one arm beneath her shoulders to brace his weight as he tested the waters with slow, gentle thrusts. “Yes,” she sighed. She was delightfully soft beneath him. Her smooth, red hair tickled his arm. Tight, slippery muscles gripped his surging shaft.
God, he would not last much longer. He concentrated on the push and pull of his cock, plunging it deep until his ballocks rested against the lips of her sex. She tried to stifle the sounds of her pleasure by pinching her full lower lip with those beautiful teeth. He palmed the supple flesh of one of her breasts and pinched her nipple. Her lips fell open and a loud moan echoed in the room.
“Harder,” she begged.
“When is your next monthly?” His hips rolled against her, earning a gasp. Her arms tightened around his shoulders.
“It just ended. It’s…it’s all right.”
He snarled, pumping his hips in earnest. Her eyes slid shut and her breasts bounced with the rocking of her body. Her knees clamped against his sides. She made a rough noise of relief and he groaned as those slippery muscles rippled around him. The ecstasy on her face was beautiful.
Ryder lost control. His ballocks tightened and he thrust deep. His eyes closed though he wanted to watch her reaction. Her gasp would’ve done him in if he weren’t already tossed. He held his hips tight against her, grunting with each spasm of pleasure.
Her grip on his shoulders loosened. He sank onto her soft breasts and shared a breathless kiss with her. One of her legs fell to the side and the other lay against his bare backside. Her fingers twirled across his back. When the pleasure died away, they lay there, utterly consumed.
He lifted his head. “Damn.”
Samantha’s lips curled in a lazy smile. “Mm-hmm.” Something she said earlier returned to him in that moment and he found himself grinning.
“What?” she asked.
“Pray tell, what does BOGO mean?”
Her laughter echoed in the room.
Chapter Six
“At last, a lucky shot took out the ship’s mast. We boarded our newest prize only to discover that the captain had died several weeks previously,” Ryder said.
Sam gasped. “So it wasn’t who the captain thought it was?”
“Exactly,” he said. “All this while, Williams thought he was facing the same French captain who had nearly sunk us seven months previous and he was gloating over his victory, but the look on his face,” he said, chuckling, “when he realized a new captain had—” Ryder couldn’t finish his sentence. He was laughing too hard.
Sam smiled at his amusement and nibbled on the strawberry in her hand. She and Ryder lay on the bed, naked and entangled in the sheets. He had ordered “room service” and spent another chunk of change on champagne and fruit. She was giddy from the alcohol and thoroughly charmed by her jack tar, who had been regaling her with stories of his adventures at sea. The very notion of exploring the oceans and discovering new land was so intoxicating to Ryder that he infected her with his eagerness and fascination, even if she already knew what the world map looked like.
“God bless Williams, but I’ll never forget the look on his face,” Ryder said. He reached for the champagne bottle and poured more into her glass.
“How long have you been a sailor?” She lifted the glass to her lips. His eyes watched her mouth as she took a sip.
“Ten years. Altogether, I’ve spent only eighteen months on land since joining.” He said it proudly.
“And you entered the navy when you were thirteen?” She took another sip.
The corners of his mouth twitched. “Are you attempting to discern my age?”
“It’s hard to believe someone so young has been at war for six years. London must seem like another world after all that.”
“Someone so young, you say. You talk as if I am younger than you,” he said.
“You are younger than me,” she said. “Two years younger, actually.” She finished her glass and sighed as the effervesce
nt liquid went straight to her head. It was a welcome sensation that blocked out everything else but Ryder and his easygoing smile. She was pretty sure she’d never been this drunk before.
“Two years, really?” He sidled closer. The champagne bottle was still in his hand and he tipped it toward her glass, which was tucked against her bare breasts. When he poured the last of the alcohol into her glass, the bubbly liquid overflowed and dripped onto her skin. Ryder bent his head to lick up the stray drops of champagne. She wasn’t sure if it was his tongue or the chilly air that made her shiver.
“Although if calculating with a Gregorian calendar, you’re almost two—” She paused to do the math in her head. “Two hundred thirty years older.” She wasn’t sure what made her say it aloud—who was she kidding, the champagne was the obvious culprit—but it sounded so ridiculous that she knew he wouldn’t believe her.
Ryder laughed against her skin and placed one last kiss to her breast before raising his head. “You must be quite drunk, madam. How did you arrive at such a number?”
“I’m from the future.” She squinted and waved her fingers at him. “I was born in the 1980s, so congratulations—you look good for your age.”
Ryder collapsed onto his back in a fit of laughter. With an unguarded smile, Sam took another swig of champagne. Her narrow, fuzzy field of vision was weirdly comforting, and the difficulty of keeping her head in one place made her wonder how she normally held such a heavy noggin still.
Once he had control of himself again, Ryder set the empty champagne bottle on the floor, still grinning. “You are singularly enchanting,” he said. “If you’re from the future, then do you know events to come?”
She knew it was dangerous to be too honest, that she should pretend to have been joking. After all, it was still an age when accusations of devil-worship or witchcraft could land you in prison or get you killed in any number of horrifying Monty Python-esque ways, but something in her wanted to impress him.
“Major historical events only,” she said into her glass before finishing off her champagne. She rolled to her other side to set the empty glass on the floor and nearly fell off the bed. Ryder swiftly snatched her wrist, his reflexes belying his state of inebriation. “This bed is not stable,” she muttered.