by Darcy Burke
Was she guessing? Was she attempting to draw out his secrets?
Keeping his tone even, giving nothing away, he said, “No man ever has the stomach for battle. To ever develop a tolerance for it would be very bad indeed.”
Angelica drank in the masculine perfection before her. Strong shoulders, a muscled chest, and an abdomen so beautifully sculpted she had an enormous desire to reach out and run her fingers over every gorgeous dip and ripple. To draw near. To feel his touch again, for his touch always felt so wonderful.
He was courageous, capable, and had undoubtedly encountered his share of obstacles in his life, meeting each challenge, hiding from nothing. How she admired that.
She’d questioned his decency and honor. Today proved that this man was no cutthroat. Not once had he boasted about the victory or the killing related to it. Despite his attempts to mask his emotions, she could tell he derived no pleasure from war and the carnage.
There was a profound unrest in him that resonated inside her, one she understood. It was a feeling that had blossomed in her since she’d met him. A desire for change.
She wanted to know more about this man, to learn all the facets that made him who he was. Yet how could she learn anything when every time she was in his presence, she was helplessly drawn into the sultry heat that sizzled between them? When she was forced to pull away, to fight against something she wanted to give in to but was afraid to.
“Something is causing you great distress, Simon, whether you wish to admit it or not.” She turned to leave, recognizing that the flare of arousal was becoming hotter the longer she remained. That warming from the inside out, her nipples pressing hard inside her chemise, eager for his attention, and that familiar ache between her legs—all conspiring against her. Not trusting these physical impulses he alone inspired, frightened by how strong they were and what they beckoned her to do, she thought it best to return to the safety of her cabin.
He pulled her back. Placing his hands on either side of her on the wooden rail, he had her hemmed in.
“Oh, there is something that is causing me great distress. You.”
His body, though not actually touching hers, practically surrounded her, her anxiousness to leave clashing further with the temptation to remain. “Me?”
“Yes, you. I may be upset because I lost men today, but you cause me distress.”
“How so?”
He leaned in and tilted his head, his mouth all but touching hers. “Because I want you.” His warm breath caressed her lips. A thrill rippled through her. “I want to take you to your cabin and strip off your gown. I want to take you, hard and fast, then again, slow and deep. I want to make you come for me, over and over until we’re both sated.”
“Oh…” Oh? What sort of answer is that?
“In this world, bliss is difficult to find. I’ve learned that you must seize it in whatever form it takes, for you never know when or if it will be offered again. It would be sheer bliss being inside you, chère. But I can’t take you below and indulge in that bliss, can I, Angelica?”
Her pulse raced, and her every nerve ending hummed with desire. Speechless, she was alarmed and inflamed by his words. He’s waiting for an answer. What was the answer? “No?”
“No.” He straightened. “Return to your cabin, Angelica. You don’t want me to escort you there—unless you are willing to partake in some sexual excess.”
She remained fixed to her spot, staring up into his light blue eyes, not wanting to leave, yet afraid to stay. Finally, she drew in a ragged breath and let it out slowly.
She couldn’t do this.
As much as her heart and body screamed yes, a dark voice reminded her of her past and roared, NO. Forcing one shaky limb before the other, she walked away.
Chapter Eleven
A clap of thunder exploded.
Angelica jumped.
The heavy seas rolled the ship, the tempest sending huge waves crashing against the hull.
Clutching the bed linens, she sat on the edge of her bed, trying her best not to topple off. Tense, she battled back dread. There had been other storms over the last several weeks of the lengthy voyage. But nothing like this.
Taking a deep breath, she then let it out slowly, willing herself to remain calm. But disturbing thoughts of the sea vessel’s ability to withstand the storm’s abuse ate away at her confidence.
Trying to distract herself, she thought about the pleasant afternoons she’d spent with Suzette, teaching her to read. Evenings in the galley with Marta and the ship’s two Italian cooks, brothers Lucio and Nicolo, whose lively fiddle music equaled their fine culinary skills.
The ship surged sharply. The menacing roar from the angry skies assailed her ears.
She moved to the floor before she fell there. Bracing her back against the bed, she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs. The ship groaned and creaked. Her thoughts ran to the man who had brought her on this voyage.
She’d barely seen Simon in weeks.
She was permitted to be on deck at midday. Each day, she found her gaze roaming away from the sea to the deck, searching him out. Occasionally, they would pass each other. He would offer her a pleasant greeting—wreak havoc with her pulse—and go on his way.
Thunder boomed, followed by another violent surge of the ship as the storm continued to howl and enrage the sea.
Pushing back the panic, she refused to think about perishing. Not when the undeniable truth was that she hadn’t truly lived. Not really. She hadn’t just been hiding from her stepfather.
She’d been hiding from life. Simon was right. It was true.
Though this storm was one experience she could have done without, she wasn’t as certain that she wanted to forgo the ones she’d had with him.
She’d shut so much out of her life. Dwindled her existence and experiences down to barely anything.
She wanted more. Deserved more. And she knew exactly what she wanted more of.
Simon.
His words echoed in her mind: “In this world, bliss is difficult to find…you should seize it in whatever form it takes, for in life you can never know when or if it will be offered again…”
She was being offered an opportunity for a bit of true bliss. And for once, she didn’t want to deny herself. Simon made her feel alive. He made her body feel things she’d never thought possible. Whenever he was near, he made her feel like a woman—desirable, whole—despite the scars deep inside. She loved it when he touched her, and trusted in his touch.
She tightened her arms around her legs.
Could she, for once, push away her past and give herself over to the desire that burned between them? She was determined to try. But she wasn’t naïve. Simon wasn’t likely to propose marriage afterward. After what her stepfather had done to her, marriage was out of the question, but some bliss was attainable.
All she had to do was surrender to it.
***
Simon walked toward his cabin. He had been through many such storms. They were common in the West Indies at this time of year. It had finally begun to subside. Now he looked forward to some rest.
His eyes were drawn to Angelica’s cabin door. She couldn’t have slept through the storm. Was she frightened? Crying? She was the only female he knew who restrained her flow of tears in any way.
He stopped in front of her door and pressed his ear to it. Silence. Was she hurt? Perhaps she had fallen and was injured.
He wrenched open the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind him.
Seated at the edge of the bed, she quickly rose.
He took in the vision she made. The gown she wore fit her body so tantalizingly, its pale color a contrast to her dark hair and those bewitching eyes. His blood warmed.
“You have news, Simon?” she asked, sounding anxious.
“News?”
“Yes, about the ship. Its condition. If the ship is badly damaged, please tell me. I wish the truth.” She lifted her chin, trying to appear bra
ve.
The fact that she was determined to put a brave face forward when others facing the possibility of death would not have possessed sufficient courage to do so raised his opinion of her yet another notch.
“The ship is fine. She has been through worse storms.”
“What about—”
“—all the ships are fine.”
She stepped closer and smiled. Though his hair was wet and his sea-drenched clothes were cold and stuck to his body, his blood was now coursing white-hot.
“The storm is subsiding. There is no need for alarm.”
“Thank you. It was kind of you to come to my cabin and inform me of this, to spare me further concern.”
He gave her a curt nod. Leave now, his inner voice warned. And he was going to heed it.
As he turned to go, he heard, “Simon?”
She approached and stopped before him, her body now too close for his sanity.
She bit her bottom lip as though she was searching for her next words. There was something different about her tonight.
“Simon, how does a woman ask a man to kiss her?”
He felt as if cold water had just splashed him in the face. “What? What man do you think to ask?” he demanded, seized by an unnerving sense of possessiveness.
“You.” Her one word dissolved his ire and tightened his groin. “Do I give you leave? Or…am I to kiss you first?”
He blinked. This couldn’t be real. This was one of his many erotic dreams of her. It would only escalate from here, and he would wake up alone. His cock rock-hard.
She raised her hand and covered her breast. “Will you…touch me and kiss me here again?”
Christ. If her words weren’t enough, seeing her touch herself was too much. He grasped her wrist and pulled her hand away from her breast, unable to muster words while she beguiled him so.
“You cannot ask me to kiss you and touch you and expect me to stop there.” How much will did she think he possessed?
“Then don’t stop.”
His brows shot up. “Do you know what you are asking? What you are giving me leave to do?”
She looked back at the bed. His gaze followed hers, his mind filling with the image of her lying naked under him, taking every hard inch of his cock inside. He quashed the groan that surged in his throat.
Capturing her face between his palms, he forced her to look at him. “What you are suggesting will impact on the rest of your life.”
“I was hoping it would,” she said softly. “You’re right about what you have said. Everything you have said. I don’t want to just exist. I want to live. Feel alive. I want to know the pleasure you described. I want you to do to me what you did the first day of the voyage. And more.”
Good God. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “Angelica… I want you too much. I’m no saint…” She’s offering herself to you! Practically begging for it. What was he waiting for?
“Just one time, Simon. Just tonight… Show me what the release, the ‘ultimate fulfillment’ feels like…please…”
That was the prettiest plea he’d ever heard. He hauled her up against him, and had her mouth in an instant, crushing it with savage intensity. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should stop, but as she laced her arms around his neck and returned his heated kiss, all his objections burned away.
Just once was all she wanted. Just once was all he needed to end his sexual suffering. But he was going to make sure she participated in this debauchery so that she couldn’t condemn him in the morning.
“Open your bodice,” he murmured. “Offer me those gorgeous breasts.”
He drew back to look at her, her hands sliding from around his neck down to his chest. She glanced at the neckline of her gown and paused. He feared she was vacillating. And he wasn’t about to let her stop now.
He brushed his mouth over the sensitive spot below her ear and lightly bit her earlobe, adorable freckle and all, enjoying her little gasp. Cupping her breast, he pinched her excited nipple through her clothing. For his efforts, she rewarded him with a delicious little mew. He held the sensitive tip firmly, letting the pressure build into inflaming throbs.
“Open your bodice, chère. Let me give you what you want,” he said in her ear, releasing her nipple, then lightly pinching the other. She whimpered. “You like that, don’t you? You want more, no?”
Her quickened breaths warmed his ear. “Yes…”
He released the tip and stroked his thumb across it. He felt her little shiver of excitement all the way down to the end of his cock.
“Will…Will you do what you did the last time, Simon?”
“Oh yes.”
“You said that…this act between men and women is pleasurable in the extreme. You’ll show me…everything?”
“Open your bodice.” His voice was gruff with impatience. “I will give you what you’re looking for.”
He watched as she tried to unfasten her clothing. Garnished with bows of ribbon down the front, the bodice posed a challenge for her nervous fingers.
His patience snapped. He pulled her up against him, captured her lush mouth, penetrating it with his tongue. His eager cock twitched with anticipation. She gave his tongue a long, luscious suck, her actions sending heat through him like a bolt of lightning, inciting him further when he was already in a state that required no encouragement.
He stripped away her clothing, coaxing her along with hot whispers and caresses. He told her how much he wanted her, how good it was going to feel being inside her, how hard he was going to make her come.
When he was done, he paused to devour the sight before him. She had the sweetest, most edible form he’d ever seen. Beautiful breasts that rose and fell with her rapid breaths. Gorgeous curves. The softest skin. Eyes shut, she tried to shield her body from his view, but he caught her wrists and held them apart, looking his fill. Tonight, she was all his. And she was definitely worth the wait.
“You are every bit as beautiful as I envisioned,” he said.
Her eyes snapped open. The small smile adorning her lips told him that his comment pleased her.
Cradling her breast in his palm, he dipped his head and sucked her nipple into his hungry mouth. She thrust her fingers in his hair, instantly frenzied by the erotic sensations.
He pressed her down on the bed, still drawing on her breast, enticing sharp, shallow pants from her. He wouldn’t relent until he had her writhing. Until she panted out his name. She was so damned desirable. Every untaught movement and uncontrolled sound she made drove him wild. Turning to her other breast, he swirled his tongue around the pretty peak before giving it the tiniest bite. Her cry of pleasure lanced into his groin, milking a dollop of pre-come from his cock.
Simon yanked off his shirt and tossed it onto the floor.
This time, he wasn’t going to be denied. There was no way he could stop. Not even if the bloody ship was sinking. He’d be the one to introduce her to carnal delights. That incredible thought pulsated through every nerve ending in his body. The gift she was giving him moved him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his. Urgency pounded in his blood. Yet he forced himself to slow down, noting she was squeezing her thighs together.
Intent on spiking her hunger, he grazed a hand over her smooth belly, then cupped her sex. They both groaned. She was so slick, her curls already wet with her juices. His cock seeped more spunk. With the heel of his hand he applying direct pressure over her clit, relishing her mewl. “Spread your legs for me. I can make you feel so much more.” He kissed her neck and slipped a single finger between the wet folds of her sex. “Trust me…” Lightly, he delivered a stroke over her clit so swollen with need. This time, she jerked back before losing her breath, stunned by the sharp, carnal sensation.
“I trust you,” she said between pants.
He smiled against her skin. He couldn’t explain why, but it gave him such joy to hear those words from her. He delivered another mea
sured stroke to her clit. She shuddered and tightened her arms around him. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”
He felt her nod and her legs slacken. She was so adorably sweet and incredibly alluring in her fiery state. He couldn’t wait to sink his length into her and give her long, deep, luscious strokes until she came on his cock.
He eased her legs apart with his knee, his hand massaging her sex all the while, fingering her with finesse, his mouth muffling the sensual sounds she made. Arching to him hard, she was quickly reaching the precipice to her release. A release he refused to give her this way. She was going to reach orgasm with him inside her.
Removing his hand from her wet sex, he was up on his knees in an instant, opening his breeches in record haste, finally freeing his cock from its restraints. He stroked his slick fingers along his length. He’d never been so hard, his cock feeling heavy as lead.
She gave an impatient squirm, the pretty crinkle in her brow telling him she didn’t like the loss of his hand on her excited sex. Leaning over her, he pressed a palm down on the mattress above her shoulder, and lightly fingered her with his other hand. Purposely avoiding her clit. Keeping her keen and craving more. “Beautiful Angelica, I am going to give you the release you seek. But I’m not going to let you come with my hand. You’re going to come with my cock.” The very idea of her wet heat clasped around him tightly made his heart pound harder. “You want to come for me. You want a release right now, don’t you.” It was more of a statement than a question, given her quickened breaths. Her wet little cunt. And those mouthwatering nipples of hers that were straining for him, begging to be sucked once more.
She gave him a nod, her cheeks pink. Dieu, she looked so good. Better than any fantasy he had of her.
He lowered himself on her. His weight on his elbows, he finally had his moonlight temptress right where he wanted her. “Tell me you don’t want me to stop.” He stroked his cock down along her dewy folds, coating it with her cream for easy penetration. It took everything he had not to thrust into her all at once. “Tell me,” he said, stroking himself back up to her needy clit, purposely making her moan. “Angelica, say it.” He had to hear her voice the words one more time. “If I am going to take your virginity, I’m going to need you to say it.” He wedged his cock at her entrance. A groan surged up his throat. Jésus-Christ, the most magnificent hot silk was gripping the tip of his prick.