by Chloe Harris
“How in the world do you think she ended up here?”
Connor tamped down the urge to shrug. “No idea really.”
Whatever it had been, it couldn’t have been good. Not that he wasn’t grateful for having had the pleasure of her company. But it most likely would have been better for her if she hadn’t ended up working for Madame Poivre. Connor wondered what it might take for her to give up a few of her secrets. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted badly to know her name.
“I have to give it to our hostess, though,” Reinier said. “The whole idea of someone of her obvious birth refusing to give her name, spinning a tale that’s so easily seen through, gives her a great air of mystery. Pair that with a pale beauty so rare here and her passionate enthusiasm. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if it was all a ruse to attract more clients at higher prices.”
Connor didn’t like the idea that the lass might be a training doxy acting the part. It didn’t sit well with him, and neither did Reinier for daring to suggest it. “There are other rare beauties, you know. Like those with more tawny skin and bright turquoise eyes,” he snapped. Without thinking, Connor reached down and began stroking her hair.
Even in the dim light it was easy to see Reinier’s lip curl in displeasure. “If I’d realized how possessive and ill-tempered you’d get from fucking a countrywoman of yours, I would have told Madame Poivre no and settled for watching you take the cat to one of the other girls’ ample backsides before her taking both of us at once.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Connor grumbled and quickly pulled his hand away from the lady in question’s glossy hair. He gently removed his arm, turning her away from him.
It seemed they were both ill-tempered. This was ridiculous, really. She held no special interest for Connor above newness, truly.
Reinier was his closest friend; Connor didn’t want them parting on bad terms. Completely comfortable in his nakedness, he tossed off the sheet and sat on the end of the bed. “Pour me a glass of that, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” Reinier rose and handed him his glass, then moved right back to his chair.
“I’m sorry,” Connor began. “I should not have mentioned Emiline like that. It must be hard for you going home after all this time and after hearing she might be unfaithful.” Granted, he’d heard it from Connor–and Connor had made the whole thing up after running into Emiline in town. But that didn’t change how Reinier felt about the whole thing. “I don’t envy you the task.”
“Come with me, then.” Reinier lifted his chin. “You can leave the Coraal in Mr. Parrish’s capable hands and we can sail on the Sirene together. We’ve not sailed together in quite a long time. It might be pleasurable reliving those days.”
The offer was tempting, but Connor’s first instinct was to stay. Not just for the mysterious redhead sleeping peacefully behind him. Of course not. “Those are fond memories, and Maxfield would love nothing more than for me to put more into his very capable hands, but I think your wife might offer you a better reception if I stayed behind.”
Reinier brushed Connor’s last comment aside. “Don’t worry for my wife. I can handle her.”
Connor wrinkled his forehead. After having seen Reinier’s wife just recently, he wasn’t so sure. Besides, as much as he knew his friend wanted to avoid facing her alone, it was best. “I have no doubt, but I’ve things I’ve still to do here.”
Reinier gave a disdainful snort and looked to the sleeping woman. “You’re not ready to leave her, you mean.”
“Purely for the mystery and another good fuck or two, I assure you. And a bit of gambling in town before leaving again. Why don’t we stick to the plan and I’ll follow in two days? We’ve done that before. One goes and the other one follows after. But it being your wife … if you’d rather not …”
“Don’t be silly,” Reinier retorted a little too quickly. “It’s settled, then. In no less than two days I’ll expect you on Ronde.”
Connor nodded in acceptance, tilted his head slightly and with a wink he tipped his forehead with his right index finger in a mock salute. “By your order, Captain Barhydt, I’ll be there.”
Reinier grunted with the hint of a chuckle and stood. After having pulled on his breeches, Connor saw his friend to the door.
Standing there long after Reinier had left, Connor watched the lass sleep. He had two more days with her until he’d leave. Just a couple more days to sate his lust for her body and unravel some of her mystery. Then he’d surely be ready to move on and see how Reinier fared with his wife–and if he might be of some assistance.
Yes, that was a good plan.
Making his way across the darkened room, he heard the lass stirring and stopped to move the candle closer before he settled back down on the bed.
“Is it morning?” She stretched lazily, wiggling the toes of her right foot, which had sneaked from beneath the sheet. Connor found the sight strangely endearing.
Just in time he managed to remember to reply. “No. You’ve only slept for a couple of hours.”
“Oh.” She sat up clutching the sheet tightly to her chest, squinting into the dark while her eyes adjusted. Connor smiled at her shyness. “Reinier has left?”
“He had an appointment to keep.” Connor swallowed a sigh when he saw that her grip on the sheet didn’t in any way allow him a small peek of that lovely, freckled bosom.
His grandmother used to call freckles like hers “fairy kisses.” Come to think of it, she did look ethereal, like a fairy, with her skin so light her veins shone through. And that long, straight hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall of liquid copper, her dazzling lips, her eyes that grew even rounder now–
Wrenching his attention away from her stunning beauty, Connor cleared his throat. “Are you hungry? I could go down and order up some food while you freshen up. Would you like that?”
She just looked at him for a moment and then back to her lap, biting her lower lip like she wasn’t sure what to do or say. Her long lashes fanned the sudden blush on her cheeks. No doubt she was replaying the afternoon’s events in her mind, not sure what to think of it all and not knowing quite how one was supposed to act in the aftermath.
Once again he felt oddly protective of her. His hand moved to rest on the coverlet over her thigh. “I know I could use a bite to eat and a bit of conversation with a fascinating and beautiful woman. You wouldn’t mind indulging a poor sailor a little longer, would you?”
Her shoulders relaxed a little, but she didn’t turn to him. Connor thought he caught the beginnings of a grin. “That might be nice, I suppose?”
He lightly squeezed her thigh and without thinking leaned in to peck her on the cheek. “Very nice, indeed.”
He still wore his breeches, so he only needed to slide into his shirt. When he was about to close the door from the outside, his gaze lingered on her lying on the bed still unmoving, looking around the room and then out the windows.
Finally she scrambled to sit on the edge of the bed and he called to her, “Light a few more candles, if you please. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
There was definitely something about this woman that made her different from the others–at least for now.
In a very short time Connor sat in breeches and shirttails with bare feet on a blanket spread out on the thick Asian carpet. They feasted on a loaf of crusty bread, mango and papaya slices, pieces of roast chicken, a soft cheese made from goat’s milk, and the best French wine Madame Poivre had on hand.
Three candles in their silver holders sat just off the rug to the left, illuminating the woman sprawled on her side before him in a hazy golden glow. She was wrapped in the sheet she’d clutched earlier, but that didn’t lessen her appeal. Quite the contrary. The sheet parted slightly above her knees, allowing him a teasing glimpse of her calves.
Sipping her wine propped on one elbow, she seemed relaxed enough. Connor might catch her unaware. “You look completely decadent, lass, like Dionysus himself se
nt you to tempt me into his madness.”
She took another long sip of her wine, then raised it as a toast to him. So she knew Dionysus was the Greek god of wine? Any lingering doubts about her upbringing or education were gone now.
Her tongue darted out to catch a stray drop. “My life has seemed like the height of insanity lately.” Jaidyn smiled. “But that I actually found some pleasure in it, too, is almost ludicrous. Thank you for that.”
Connor set his own drink down and reached for a slice of mango. “Don’t thank me yet. The pleasures are not over.” He held the fruit up for her. “Here, have a taste of this.”
Obediently she opened. Connor took his time painting her lips with its juices, enjoying how they glistened in the candlelight, before placing the fruit in her mouth.
Watching her delicate throat work reminded him how good it felt when the tip of his cock touched the back of it as she sucked hard and laved him with her tongue. He wanted to watch her do it again–right there on the floor, caught in the glow of the candle’s flicker. He wanted to twist his hands into her silken hair, guiding himself in and out of her warm, wet mouth.
Feeding her another piece, Connor tried to tamp down his eagerness for now.
“The height of insanity?” He didn’t think confronting her with the obvious lapses in her story was a good idea. He wanted her to want to tell him the truth, which meant he had to coax it out of her somehow. “Indeed, you’re as tempting as a maenad. And as beautiful.”
She froze, holding the wine glass in midair. Her eyes darted toward him. Wariness flared in them like tinder, but then she shook her head slowly and relaxed again. Hitching one shoulder, she gave a mock sigh. “Poor sailor that you are, you might not be aware that you just offended me. The original maenads were hideous creatures. Not to mention extremely cruel and bloodthirsty.”
Connor liked how her eyes lit up with mischief. “Forgive my slip, then. You as a mere downstairs maid would know better, I presume.”
She had the astounding ability to lift only one eyebrow. It would make her appear lofty if it weren’t for the lopsided grin that spread over her features. “Of course. I dusted the books once a day, you see.”
“I see. Quite clearly.” Bracing his elbow on his raised knee, he leaned back a little more. “So, tell me something about the maenads I don’t know yet. What I know is give them something to drink and they’d lose all self-control … engage in wild sexual acts in their ecstatic frenzy … But wait.” Connor cocked his head. “That sounds very much like you.”
Laughing, she set her glass down, shaking her head. “Oh no. Not like me at all. Not typically me anyway. It seems I’ve only recently discovered that side of me. Hmm …” She drummed her fingers against her chin, deep in thought. “The maenads all have different names. That’s something you as a simple seaman might not know.”
Connor immensely enjoyed exchanging banter with her. Probably more than he should, but he couldn’t care less right then. “They do? So, which one are you?”
She only gave him an airy flick of her wrist.
“Ambrosia? Agave?”
Now as she rubbed her toes against her ankle, a gesture born out of slight discomfort, Connor supposed, he couldn’t help being drawn to the strangely erotic sight of her toes yet again. The movement had the sheet hitch up another notch, revealing a good part of her thighs. Connor let the tip of his tongue trace his upper lip.
“If you want to know my name, you only have to ask.”
As if she could read his thoughts, she picked at the sheet until it covered her knees again, cutting through his thoughts, which were foggy with lust.
“What’s your name?” Connor almost fell for it. Just in time he remembered to add, “But don’t give me just any name. I want your real name.”
She sucked in a breath and held it, her eyes round as plates for the fraction of a second. “Oh. That I won’t tell you.”
“You won’t?”
She shook her head, her mouth a luscious slash of resolve. Well, then. There were other ways for him to cajole the truth out of her.
“No, I–” She gasped, watching horrified as Connor moved onto all fours, stalking around what was left of their dinner to stop near her feet. “What are you doing?”
He saw her breath catch as he wrapped one hand around a slim ankle. “All this time I was wondering whether you were shy or just a tease.” He pulled her legs apart, slowly forcing her from her side to her back leaning on her forearms. “Now I know. But you should understand that two can play that game.”
“What game?” She sounded confused.
Connor’s seeking hands moved up her calves to caress her inner thighs.
“Oh,” she breathed, her head wobbling.
He hummed at her willingness, so unspoiled and, in a way, innocent. If she’d been a doxy, she’d have faked more pleasure. As it was, she was all the more exciting for him. Her reaction fueled his enthusiasm and he lay between her legs, nudging them farther apart with his shoulders.
His cheek rested just below her hip when he blew purposefully strong breaths across the nub of her sex.
“Ohh,” she gasped again and rolled her hips once.
“Tell me your name,” he whispered just loud enough for her to hear. His lower lip nudged her bud twice. He could smell her need, saw her hunger beading on those pretty ginger curls.
“Connor …” She had such an alluring, wanton sigh.
Two fingers delved into her already slick core, pressing down and stroking deep but slow, pushing in and sliding out just a little until she writhed and her sighs turned into soft moans.
Her breath became shallow pants when his thumb began tickling her tight rosebud. Connor’s mouth watered for her sweet cream and he leaned down, his lips settling over her. Lapping slowly from her entrance up to her clit, he settled into tender strokes with the flat of his tongue. Back and forth it flicked, alternating gently sucking with light nips of his teeth while his fingers continued to push in and out.
Damn, she was tasty. “Your name,” he whispered against her dewy folds. “Tell me.”
He could feel her tighten around his fingers, her nether muscles flexing with her imminent release. Her head began thrashing from side to side. She licked her lips, her chest heaving with the quick breaths she took, her legs trembling.
Connor slowed, thinking he’d stop soon and tease her some more into revealing her name. But apparently she remembered that lesson only too well, because her hands delved in his hair, keeping his head just where it was.
When she fisted her fingers tightly in an ecstatic lock on his head, the small pinpricks in his scalp sizzled down to his toes. His body ignited with desire, a fiery blaze skittering down his spine and pooling in his cock. Connor felt his aching erection strain against the fly of his breeches and the hard floor.
He pushed the tip of his thumb inside her tight rosebud and wiggled it.
“Connor! Yes!” she screamed, threw her head back, and tensed, arching her body off the blanket as a moan ripped from her throat. She crested so hard he almost couldn’t move his fingers inside her.
The deliberate brush of his tongue between her slick lips never ceased while his arms snaked around her thighs. Grasping her wrists tightly by her hips, he urged her legs farther apart, her thighs locked tight around his shoulders.
She writhed, completely at his mercy now. Her hips thrust up against his chin and Connor started another assault. Once more his tongue swirled over her core with playful licks and teasing nibbles. Faster and faster he flicked over her until his mouth closed to suck only her engorged pebble.
She jolted in surprise and his grip tightened in response, holding her in place.
“Connor! No, stop!” She breathed, a violent quiver shaking her body. When she stared at him, her eyes were dazed with lust.
In response, Connor lifted his head from between her thighs and gave her his most devilish smile. He could feel his lips wet with her honey and hoped they shone in the dim ligh
t like hers had earlier. “Tell me your name.”
He set down to pleasuring her again until she twisted helplessly on the sheet. A hard tremor seized her. Feeling the motion, he smiled against her folds.
“Connor, please stop,” she whimpered mindlessly despite pleasure lighting her face. “I can’t–”
“Yes, you can. Tell me your name,” he said with a low moan against her soft folds before he took her bud between his lips once again. His mouth was playing her body like a lyre.
“I won’t stop unless you tell me your name,” he said softly, compulsion barely hidden in the silvery tones of his voice. To emphasize his point, he let his tongue flick over her sensitized bud again. She shuddered with each pass of his tongue, her hips twitching frantically. Her legs tightened around his head, her heels dug into his back.
Gasping, then giving a deep groan, she heaved her upper body off the blanket. “Ohmygod … Connor … please … I beg you!” Her voice was rough, strained from her ecstatic moans that had turned into screams. It rang in his head like heavenly bells.
He chuckled but didn’t let go of her. If she did as he asked of her, she wouldn’t have to endure this.
Or maybe she would. Connor couldn’t make up his mind about that right now.
Her body started to glisten with a fine sheen of perspiration. If Connor didn’t know better, he’d think her musky fragrance had intensified. It was the most intoxicating, most exquisite aphrodisiac he’d ever tasted. He ravenously devoured her sex, his tongue spearing her lips just before his mouth leisurely closed around her clit one last time. He sucked gently and with a few quick passes of his tongue he took her over again.
“Oh … Connor … no!” Her gasp ended in a loud moan. “Jaidyn! My name’s Jaidyn!”
“Is. That. Your. Real. Name?” Connor asked in between pleasuring her, accentuating each word with another quick, torturing flick of his tongue.
“Yes, oh God, I swear, yes, it is.”
Straightening, he looked down at her as she sprawled, weak and stunned. Her eyes were closed, tears wetting her temples, but there was no mistaking the dreamy smile curving her lips for anything other than contentment.