“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered against her lips.
“Then why did you leave me?” Hurt furrowed her brow.
Jacob’s thumb caressed the curve of her bottom lip. His voice was a ragged whisper, “is that what your father told you? That I left?” He kissed her on the forehead.
“Yes, he said you joined the crew of a merchant ship.”
“It wasn’t my choice, Grace.” His fingertips brushed along her cheek, over her ear, and down her throat. He traced her collarbone with the palm of his hand, and she sighed at his fiery touch. “Our love was doomed. Do you really think Lord Strathclyde would allow his only daughter to carry on with the bastard son of the lowly cane farmer, Jonah Pratt, and a Negro woman?”
Grace swallowed the lump of embarrassment in her throat. Jacob so resembled his father that she rarely remembered that his mother was a house slave. “I only see the man I love, you know I never cared that you were…” her voice trailed off.
“You might not have, my love, but others did.” He tilted her face to his and pressed a deep kiss to her lips.
“When father told me that your ship was lost at sea, I thought you were dead.” Grace toyed with an auburn curl that hung over his defined pectoral muscle.
“Jacob Pratt died the moment he was sent away from his beloved Grace,” he said. “Pirates attacked the ship I was on off the Carolina coast and offered the cabin boy, Jacob Payne, a choice; death or piracy.” Jacob smirked and taking her hand in his, he kissed each of her knuckles, “you can guess which one I chose.” He drew each finger one at a time into his mouth, sucking them, exploring the delicate tips with his tongue. The muscles below Grace’s navel clenched and she moaned softly.
“I didn’t think I would ever see you again.” His kisses trailed along her open palm and across her wrist, lingering on the thrumming pulse beneath her milky skin. “When I intercepted the courier and learned of the war with France, I knew your father would need of men such as I.” His teeth raked against her forearm and nipped lightly at the soft skin at the bend of her elbow. “I’m a pirate; no one cares who my parents are, and with a letter of marque I could come back to you.” Jacob’s mouth trailed along the curved mound of her breast, his tongue flicking her tender nipple and pulling it into his hot sucking mouth.
Grace’s fingers tangled into his hair and she arched her back against his body, begging for the breathless ache that his mouth brought to her loins.
“But,” he sighed against her skin, his breath cooling and goose pimpling her flesh, “then your father commissioned me to take you off to marry some lousy Duke’s son in Williamsburg.” His mouth halted in its teasing and he stared at her from between her breasts. Jacob’s deft fingers flicked the hard peak of her nipple and his full lips turned up into a smart smile.
Grace groaned, planting her hands on the side of his head, attempting to guide him back to his sensuous task. “I do not want to think about Samuel York right now.”
“Did you want to marry him?” He nipped a neat trail along her breastbone and down to her belly, dipping and swirling his tongue into her navel.
She bucked her hips, grinding against the firm muscles of his torso. “You tossed my wedding dress overboard,” she huffed, her voice edged by frustration.
“I did, didn’t I?”
Grace moaned low in her throat, fingertips pressing into his scalp when his lips touched hot against her sex. His fingers glided along the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs and with his thumbs he spread the lips of her womanhood and ravished her swollen clit with the tip of his tongue.
He kissed her there with the same depth of passion with which he had kissed her mouth earlier. Slick sweetness gathered within her and he lapped at it with his adventurous tongue, exploring and tasting her. Grace’s fingers found purchase, tangled in his auburn locks, and she held him fast, grinding her sex against his hungry mouth.
Jacob’s hands sought out her breasts and she curled into his touch, relishing in the exquisite pinch of his rolling fingers. Grace’s breath hissed between her lips and she moaned, the heat of impending orgasm building within her.
Grace whimpered at the cold air as he lifted his face away from her heated desire, breaking free of her hold upon his head. “Patience, my love.” He arched above her, his velvety length hard with renewed vigor.
Sweeping her thighs apart with his knee, he positioned himself between them. The head of his cock brushed past the golden curls decorating her slit, and he plunged sweetly into her. He retreated and thrust forward, each surge plundering her depths, the frisson heightening her arousal and she skirted close to the precipice once more.
Jacob’s fingers wound into her hair as he bucked faster. He groaned, her name parting his lips was her undoing, and she crashed around him, the heartbeat of her orgasm bringing his climax. He stilled, the flush of release coloring his neck and torso.
She kissed his throat as he lay spent beside her. Their limbs tangled together and she rested her head upon his shoulder.
Jacob ran his fingertips delicately along her jaw. “Am I still to take you to Williamsburg or will you stay with me—a pirate?”
Grace smirked and taking his hand in hers, kissed each of his knuckles, “you know which one I choose.”
THE END
ABOUT NICKIE JAMISON
Nickie Jamison wrote her first full-length novel at age ten—that creative endeavor sparked her desire to begin her writing career. Ms. Jamison’s short erotic fiction has been published in the Coming Together Among the Stars, Coming Together Outside the Box, and Slice Girls anthologies. Nickie's hobbies include knitting, drinking copious amounts of wine, Netflix binge-watching, and painting her nails. She lives in Hampton Roads with her darling husband, step-child, and two spoiled furbabies, Jayne and Frye.
For more information, visit oopswrongcookie.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
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