by Shana Galen
She inhaled sharply. “There would be nothing glorious about it, I assure you.”
“You will have to allow me to decide that for myself.”
She shook her head, and he caught her chin. “But not tonight. It’s too dark for me to see any more than I did that night. But I can feel.” His hand stroked down her chin, across her shoulder, and along her arm. He dragged down the sleeve of the loose blouse, exposing the swells of her breast. She might have resisted, but her head was swimming with rum and new revelations.
“I can touch.” He bent to her breast. “I can kiss.” His warm lips kissed first one breast and then the other. His hands cupped her waist and slid up to test the weight of her breasts. When his thumb brushed over her extended nipple, she groaned. “Now it’s more than the material rubbing against you,” he murmured. His thumb worked her hard flesh in slow circles. “Are you aching for me? For my skin on your skin? My tongue on your skin?”
“Yes. Please.” His hands were suddenly gone and the bodice followed. And then his hot mouth covered her, replacing the shock of cool air on her skin. His tongue lapped the hard point and suckled her. She thrust into his mouth, and he sucked harder until she felt an answering pull deep in her belly.
He paused to lift his head and remove her blouse. She knelt, naked from the waist up, before him. The night was dark, but the stars were countless and bright enough that she knew he could see something of her body. He sat back, looked at her for a long moment, then reached for her again.
“Not so fast,” she said. “Take off your shirt.”
He grinned at her—at least she assumed he did from the flash of white teeth she saw. “Your wish is my command.” He pulled the shirt from his trousers and tugged it over his head. Tentatively, she reached out and ran a hand over his hard, muscled torso. She could picture his chest in her mind, and her breath quickened. His arms came around her, pulling her against him, so their flesh made delicious contact, and she felt that spot between her legs throb. He felt so good. Touching him like this felt so good.
He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her gently, his hands on her back, making her shiver with his long, languorous strokes. His lips slanted over hers, tasting her, and then he entered her with his tongue, filling her and stroking her. As his kiss grew more passionate, so did his caresses, and soon his hands dipped into the waist of her skirt.
It took her a moment to realize he was slipping it off, and she cried out and pushed back. “No.”
He was breathing hard, but he made no move to grab her back. “What did I do?”
“I can’t—I don’t—” She swallowed. “My skirt stays on.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No!”
He was quiet for a long moment, and then his arms came around her again. “Is this about your leg?”
She ducked her head, hoping her silence answered for her. Everything was spinning, and she was so deliciously warm. But she could not forget. She could never forget.
“I see, and I remember now,” he said
She couldn’t have heard him correctly. “Remember?” She looked up at him, forgetting she could not see his expression. But she could feel his strong arms around her. She could feel the way he held her, the tension in his body, showing her that he wanted her, that he restrained himself only because she’d asked him to.
“That night. I wanted to lift your skirts and kiss you, but you kept pushing them down. You kept pulling my head back to your lips.”
She remembered as well. She’d been so afraid he would see her burnt flesh and shudder with revulsion. “I think we did very well, even without you kissing my legs.”
He laughed. “I didn’t want to kiss your leg, Ashley. I wanted to kiss you far more intimately.”
“I don’t…” She paused. “But you can’t mean…” She actually felt her cheeks heating as warmth flooded into her face. Thank God for the weak starlight.
“Why don’t I show you, my little innocent?” Gently, he pushed her back on the sand, and she felt its warm, soft texture on the bare skin of her back. She was so intrigued by what he implied, she forgot to resist when he lowered her to her back. But when he tried to lift her skirts, she batted his hand away.
“Ashley,” he whispered, his breath feathering the sensitive skin at her ear. “I promise you will enjoy this. You will beg me to continue.” He inched her skirt higher, exposing her calves. “I will not look at your leg. Even if I did, I can’t see anything.” His mouth lowered to her neck then her breasts. He kissed her slowly, and she felt herself relenting as his hands inched her skirts higher, exposing her.
If he’d touched her leg, if he’d tried to look at it, she would have fought him, but he kept his face turned toward hers. He kissed her breasts then her belly then moved between her legs. “One day I’m going to do this in the daylight, when I can see you.” His hands moved from her hips to the inside of her thighs and she gasped in a breath. His hand stroked her inner thigh gently, and she found herself opening her legs wider. She could not seem to stop herself. It was a wanton act, but she had always liked to think of herself as a little wanton.
His hand came to rest on her core, and the feel of his skin on that sensitive spot made her jump.
“You’re wet for me,” he murmured, sounding pleased. “You want me as much as I want you.” He moved his hand against her, stroking her, and she groaned. “Tell me you want me. I promised myself you would beg me before I touched you again.”
“I want you,” she said, catching her lip between her teeth when he stroked her again. His finger delved between her legs, finding that sensitive spot he’d made such satisfying use of that silent night on the ship. And then before she knew what he was doing, he bent his head and she felt the warm, wetness of his mouth where his finger had been. The feeling was so exquisite that she almost screamed, arching off the sand with pleasure.
“Beg me,” he said, his breath on her inner thighs. “Beg me, and I’ll show you how good this can feel.”
“Please, Nick.”
His tongue rasped against her again, and she would have said, would have done anything if he would continue. “Please, please. I beg you. Do not stop.”
He bent his head again, lapping at her until her hips rose and she writhed with anticipation. She knew what was coming, knew the exquisite sensation he would bring her, but she was still shocked and awed when it slammed into her. She cried out, digging her heels into the sand and riding wave after wave of pleasure. When she finally opened her eyes and caught her breath, Nick was looking down at her, his expression intent. “That was beautiful. I may have to do it again just to see your expression.”
She could only shake her head weakly. “I cannot take any more.”
“Oh, we are not yet finished,” he teased.
She felt him thick and hard between her legs and realized he’d been waiting until she was cognizant of him again.
“There’s more pleasure to be had,” he said, eyes dark as he pressed against her. Amazingly, she felt her body respond. She did not think she had the capacity for more pleasure.
“Will you allow me to show you?” He kissed her cheek and her forehead, his lips gentle, but his body was tense and she could feel his arms shaking with the effort of his restraint. She was his wife and they were alone and half dressed. He’d just done…well, she did not know the word for what he had done…and now he asked her if he might take what was rightly his. She could fall in love with him if he continued like this.
“Yes,” she said, wrapping her hands around his neck and kissing him back. His mouth covered hers, making her forget everything but the feel of his lips on hers. His tongue mated with hers as he entered her. He slid easily into her body, filling her with a delicious fullness that made her groan. He groaned in response, resting his forehead against hers.
“I want to take you slowly,” he said, his voice sounding tight and harsh. “But I find I am as eager as a schoolboy.”
She lifted her hips sligh
tly, liking the new sensation that rippled through her. “I am eager too.”
“If you continue to move like that, continue to say such things, I will embarrass myself.”
But she could not seem to help herself. She could not stop her hips from pressing up and against him. “Nick.” She breathed his name, unable to form words.
“I can’t hold on.” He moved within her then, thrusting so hard she caught her breath. She cried out, and he caught her hip with one hand, holding her where he wanted her. Holding her where she could not escape the exquisite torment. The way he moved, the way he brought her to the brink of climax, then retreated again. She was sobbing by the time he cried out. “Come with me,” he ordered her, and his hand moved between them. Stars seemed to explode when he touched her, and she arched into him, feeling, for the first time, that they were truly one.
THIRTEEN
Nick lay in his wife’s arms, panting. His heart pounded so loudly it sounded like the blast of cannons in the midst of a battle. There had been little skill in the act, little finesse, but that did not seem to matter. He was completely undone. He had not felt like this since…since the first time he had made love to Ashley.
Had it scared him as much then as it did now? He remembered, vaguely, that it did. He’d told her he broke it off because he did not want to drag her into the sordid life he led as a pirate. That was true—in part. What was also true was that being with Ashley made him feel things he did not want to explore to closely. She made him feel vulnerable, the same way he’d felt when Nerissa had been a tiny newborn. Looking at her had been like seeing his heart outside of his body. He’d wanted to wrap her up and put her somewhere safe, where nothing and no one could hurt her because he knew if anything happened to her, it would kill him.
Without Rissa, he had no reason to live. It was far too dangerous to allow those sorts of feelings to develop for Ashley. He had to keep some part of his heart inside his body, some part of it safe and protected. But now, lying here, he felt exposed and vulnerable. At the same time, he felt complete. He felt content in Ashley’s arms. He never wanted to leave. Reluctantly, he disentangled himself and sat. She pushed her skirts down but made no move to rise or even sit. He felt inordinately pleased that she was as affected as he. He also felt a tug of regret when he considered he would have to leave her in a two days’ time to search out Yussef. It seemed the odds were always against them. Now that they had made a truce of sorts, he would leave her.
“That was—”
He looked down at her, her blond hair spilling out on the sand, her pale skin glowing in the starlight. It was too dark to see the expression she wore, but he thought she was smiling.
“Words fail you?” he said, teasing. “I doubt that has ever happened before.”
She punched him lightly. “Do not ruin the moment.” She sighed. “That was…”
“Amazing?”
“Yes! More than amazing, but I don’t know a word for something more than amazing.”
“Ashley.”
“Yes?”
He leaned down, caressed her cheek. “A word for someone more than amazing.”
“Ah. Now you are charming me.”
“It’s easy to be charming with this between us.”
“Then you feel it too?”
He raced to reassure her. For some reason he wanted her to feel special, to know this was not an ordinary occurrence for him. “I’ve never felt like this before.”
She rose on her elbows. “Now you are charming me again.”
“No.” He touched her hair, stroked a hand down it. “I speak the truth. I want to hold on to this moment.”
“Then why don’t you? Don’t go after this Yussef.”
He tensed, and the breeze from the ocean suddenly seemed several degrees cooler. “Many reasons.” He stood, found his trousers, and pulled them on. “You don’t understand.”
“Of course I don’t,” she said, reaching for her blouse. “Because you won’t tell me anything.” She turned to face him. “Do you blame yourself for what happened here? It wasn’t your fault.”
“Of course it was!” he said, raising his voice more than he’d intended. “I was supposed to protect the women and children here. And I let them down, just like I let—” He shook his head and tried to move away, but she grasped his arm.
“Who? Who else do you think you let down?”
“I don’t want to speak of it.”
“And I don’t want to be abandoned on this island! If you’re going to leave, at least tell me why.”
“I already told you. I failed these women. I did nothing to protect her”—he shook his head—”them. I won’t stand by and allow their deaths to go unpunished.”
She gave him a long hard look, and when he tried to pull away, she drew him back. “Whose death went unpunished?”
He did not want to speak of this. He did not want to remember. But he did owe her some explanation. “My mother. She died when Jack and I were boys. It was my fault.” He lowered his head and closed his eyes. “I always wanted adventure, and I didn’t stay where I was told. When Jack and my mother couldn’t find me, they searched and my mother was—” He swallowed. “She was assaulted and murdered in Whitechapel.”
“Nick.” Her grip on his arm tightened. “You were a boy. Surely no one blames you. Does your brother hold you responsible?”
“No. Jack is the sort who accepts responsibility for everything. He holds himself at fault.”
“So you’ve both spent years blaming yourselves. You weren’t to blame for your mother’s death, and you aren’t to blame for Yussef’s action here. Don’t you think it’s past time to let go of your hatred and need for revenge—”
He thought of Maria and Costa, left to rot where they’d fallen. He tore his arm out of Ashley’s hold. “No. Yussef will pay for his crimes. It’s not finished until he’s dead.”
He thought she might say something then, might try to convince him to change his mind, but before she could speak they heard voices approaching. He was glad for the interruption. “Someone must have had the same idea we did.” He took her hand and led her back the way they’d come. “Let’s return and give them the privacy they seek.”
They took a different path back to the camp on the beach, one that took them through part of the forest. Enveloped in a canopy of darkness, trees bowing over them, he felt that in these fleeting moments, he and she were alone in the world. Even the stars could not be seen, and the jungle was silent as they moved through it. The insects paused in their chirping and the birds were at rest. Nick couldn’t help but wonder what their lives might have been like if they’d met like this—not in a jungle, but without all of the obstacles, obstacles that still stood between them when they entered the camp and went to their separate tents.
The next morning Nick spent back on the Robin Hood which had been restored to its original position in the cove and which stood tall and proud, guarding the island. He inspected every inch of the ship as the men positioned cannons and stored supplies of powder and shot. The vessel was in top shape, ready as it ever would be to take on the Barbary pirate. Nick was ready too, but he had two tasks ahead of him, and neither would be pleasant.
He found Rissa first. She was playing a complicated game of chase with the other children, and rather than interrupt her, he watched her play. Ashley had mentioned to him that the child still had nightmares about Yussef’s raid, but he was happy to see in the daylight, she was playing and behaving normally. Already the village on the island was being rebuilt. The men had buried the dead and the women had helped them clear the rubble. Soon new construction would begin. He imagined when he returned from this last voyage, a great deal of progress would be made.
Nick leaned against a tree and shook his head. His last voyage. Once he had thought he would sail the seas forever. Now he knew it was time to give the Robin Hood to Chante. Nick would captain it one last time, and then he would take Ashley and Rissa home.
Still, even if h
e ceased pirating and never returned to the island, he was pleased to know he would leave it rebuilding. He would leave it safe from the Barbary pirate.
“Papa!” Rissa said, spotting him and stopping her game. She ran to him, and he scooped her into his arms and gave her a crushing hug. She laughed, and he spun her around. “Is the ship all ready?” she asked.
“It’s as good as new.”
“No!”
He set her down. “You don’t want my ship repaired?”
“No. You’ll leave now. I want you to stay forever and ever.”
He crouched down in front of her, and she threw her arms about his neck. He almost toppled over but caught himself in time. “I want to stay with you too. It’s just for a little while that I go away. And when I come back, I’ll take you to England with me. We’ll always be together.”
She stuck her lip out. “You’ll be gone a long, long, long, long time.”
He rose and held his hand out. Her small one slipped into it. “Not so very long if you know how to keep busy. Will you walk with me to collect shells? While I’m gone you can make a necklace out of them and remember the time we spent together.”
They walked for an hour or so, and when she yawned and complained she was tired, he carried her back to the beach camp. She fell asleep on his shoulder, and he placed her in the care of one of the women to watch her while she slept. He hadn’t seen Ashley all morning, and he asked about her now. The woman gestured toward the bathing pool and made a comment to the effect that Mrs. Captain was too modest to bathe when the other women went.
Nick set off after her, thinking of her leg. He did not know what had happened to her, what sort of disfigurement she suffered, but she obviously went to some lengths to keep it hidden. She had probably not needed to when she lived in England. A lady did not dare even show an ankle, but here no one cared about modesty.
Except Ashley, of course.
He stepped into the clearing and spotted her almost immediately. She must have heard him coming because she was submerged in the pond up to her shoulders and watching the path. Her shoulders sank, and she sighed when she recognized him.