by Eris Adderly
A vivid memory swept over her, unbidden. Disarmed with the simple act of eating, her mind was flooded with the recollection of her body doubled over the captain’s knee, Till’s erect manhood deep in her throat and Blackburn’s lewd finger moving within her bottom. She was outraged, of course. Wasn’t she?
That’s a good girl, Hannah, he’d said to her. She remembered his words with what she was sure was a scarlet flush of shame. At that moment, spitted by the two men, she’d felt like quite the opposite. In fact, at this current point in time, the throbbing between her thighs at the memory made her feel like a very bad girl indeed.
Hannah cleared her throat, checking to see if Till had taken notice of her colour. Why was she thinking of this now?
The quartermaster seemed to sense some of her unease and tried again to make some conversation. He could not know that his choice of topics was far from helpful in the way of distracting her from her thoughts.
“The two of you are quite alike, you know,” he began. “You and the captain, I mean.”
Now of all the things to say …
“I fail to see how that’s even remotely possible,” she said with a sardonic laugh. Her plate was empty except for crumbs now and she pushed it away.
“Oh it’s true, Mrs Collingwood. I’ve known him for a very long time. I can see many of the same ways about you both. He’s very pragmatic, and so are you. You didn’t scream and cry and faint as I might’ve expected after that first day. At least not so awfully much.” She squinted her eyes a bit at his comparisons, not sure if she should be insulted at being likened to her jailor, or irritated at having been reminded of that business with the mast.
Till continued: “I see each of you trying to keep a great deal of your sentiments secret; hidden into yourself. You both seem very … apart … from everyone else.” There was a hint of apology in his eyes at his choice of words.
“And what choice do I have, but to be apart here on this ship, Mr Till?”
The man gave a gentle shrug and half a rueful smile, as if to say he agreed, but what could he do? It was frustrating beyond measure.
Why was he saying these things to her in the first place? Was he trying to engender some sort of sympathy on her part for the captain? To cause her to feel some kinship? He’d set himself a nigh impossible task, if that were the case.
The most wrenching question troubling her at that moment, though, was her less than helpful wondering at whether Till’s tattooed skin would feel any different under her hands than normal flesh.
Honestly, Hannah.
She tried to push down the inappropriate rush of feeling that washed over her then, but it refused her attempts to dam it up. The memories of the host of new sensations she’d experienced in the last two days battered at her like a storm, and her body tingled as one disgraceful, wanton image after another crashed into her.
Urges both powerful and unfamiliar were breaking Hannah down, piece by piece. She wanted to feel those things again, and hated herself for admitting as much, even in secret. And this man in front of her had been the only one to show her the least bit of care or warmth since the beginning of this entire debacle. It was true, he’d helped the captain carry out his scandalous deeds, but his few whispered words had told Hannah he wasn’t interested in hurting her. And the memory of him pushing that first time between her legs …
Her heart raced and her blood rushed in her ears as she teetered on the edge of what she knew she was about to do.
Till leaned forward to collect her finished plate and, throwing caution to the wind, Hannah reached to cover his hand with hers. The big man’s eyes shot up to lock with hers and a new tension crackled in the air of the stateroom. A different kind of fear.
Pulling her fingers back from his, but not breaking their gaze, Hannah stood, pushing her chair back, to make a slow circle around the table and join the quartermaster on the other side. She came to stand before the man who’d shown her care as best he could in the tiny ways available to him. Her thoughts were a mad whirl.
Will you honestly do this? There’ll be no denying what you are then, Hannah.
Till’s arms had come uncrossed as he turned to face her. His two hands dangled between his thighs as if he were uncertain what to do with them. Confusion filled his searching green eyes and his lips were parted, perhaps ready to ask her what she was about.
“Is there … something I can help you with, Mrs Collingwood?” His voice was quiet; it seemed he was approaching the turn of events with just as much trepidation as she was.
And there’s no denying it now, either.
Hannah stepped into the space between his legs, passing judgement and sentence on herself in one final move. Bringing her face inches from his, she stared at him, her chest heaving as the moment strung out tighter than one of the many lines outside among the rigging. Her answer came at just above a whisper, as she was terrified to hear her own words.
“It seems … it seems that there is, Mr Till.”
She could bear it no longer; Hannah closed the gap and brought her trembling lips over his.
If Till was startled, she didn’t read it in him for more than a flickering of a moment. He circled his arms about her waist and drew her in to him with a firm pull, welcoming her offered kiss with a soft, deep groan and the warm press of his own mouth back into hers.
It was exquisite. Scandalous. Perfect.
Yes. This is what I want. Yes.
All self-control obliterated, the two of them tasted each other with urgent, ravenous strokes. Tongues and lips lapped up the desire in the room with a fevered intensity, and Hannah felt him hardening against her through the folds of her skirts.
His hands moved to hers now, and slid up her arms to grip them just below her elbows while their kiss continued at a more languid pace. The feel of his fingers there brought back a jolt of memory: Till holding her against him while the captain ‘inspected her wares’. This should have disgusted her, but it only fanned her flames higher. She wanted his hands on her so very badly, and the sweet pang of this realisation squeezed at something in her chest.
Breaking away from the kiss, the quartermaster looked at her now in arousal and disbelief. She could tell he was fighting with himself to control his urges.
“Are you certain you want this?” he managed to say at last, evident lust restrained in his voice.
The entire situation was upside down and backward from what had happened with Blackburn. She was the aggressor here. He was asking for permission, and seemed prepared to heed her response. More civilised, it seemed, away from the captain’s influence.
In for a penny, yes, Hannah?
She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue and gave an almost imperceptible nod of confirmation. At her wordless assent, Till pulled her in and set his mouth to work at the hollow of her throat.
Her head tilted back to let him taste as he would, and his hands moved from circling her arms to resting on both sides of her ribcage. The pressure of his fingers was delicious through her dress and stays. Little sighs from her lips gave over to a gasp as she felt his head move lower and his tongue dip between her breasts where her bindings pushed them together above her neckline.
The way the current fashion liked to place the pale mounds of flesh on a shelf for display, there should have been no surprise that her curves drew his attention. Women’s breasts all but fell out of their bodices these days, and some often did. Till was taking full advantage of what her gown revealed: he pressed a scattering of kisses, many growing lush and open-mouthed, over the sensitive skin.
Hannah’s breath was coming quickly now and her hands dared to trace up over Till’s broad shoulders to explore the back of his neck and shaven head with her fingers. She had her answer now—flesh was flesh, whether it bore ink or no. The man at her breast was making low, masculine noises of satisfaction and she pressed herself further into his care, absorbing every bit of worship he was giving her.
Is this what it should have felt like?
Your wedding night?
His hands slid up from their place at her ribs and, in a deft move, he tucked both thumbs below the neckline of her dress at the sides and pushed her breasts up from below, exposing her hardened pink nipples along with a significant amount of additional flesh for his perusal.
“Oh God!”
She nearly choked on her own words as he sucked one of the tiny buds into his mouth. His fingers rolled the other one around, tugging on it, testing its give, and the two new sensations at once bolted like lightning straight between her legs.
Resting her forehead against the top of his, she chirped small whimpers of encouragement from her open mouth. Till savoured and worked at first one sensitive tip and then the other. His hips were grinding into her now at a slow roll, driving her sanity to the edge of a cliff.
With a final nip at her flesh, he left off his torment of her to rise from his seat, the stool grating backward over the deck as he stood. The man towered over her and she found this quickening her pulse all the more.
Hannah looked up at him to see a playful grin taking over his face. His hands were at her waist and he leaned down to bring his lips to hers again. If there was any remaining doubt in her mind this was no longer a game, the way his body dwarfed hers when he took her in his arms erased the last of it. She’d made this particular bed, and now she was going to have to lie in it.
“Come now, Mrs Collingwood.” His words came low and persuasive between knee-weakening kisses as he began to walk her backward around the table. “Shall we do this … right and proper … this time? Just you … and I?”
That voice. Dear Lord, a criminal should have no right to sound like that.
At the last of his questions, Till bent at the knees to circle his arms around her thighs, crossing them behind, just below her bottom. He stood up again to hoist her from the ground and set her atop the edge of the captain’s sleeping berth.
Thoughts of decorum long gone, Hannah spread her knees wide to allow him to stand closer to her at the edge of the bed while he pulled his shirt off over his head in a single movement and cast it aside. Here again, was the sight of his chest, confronting her. This time Hannah would not deny herself.
Her hands came up between them and she set her fingers over the wall of muscle. Till’s skin was fiery under her cool touch and she only lingered a moment before she brought her lips to him as well. The quartermaster tasted of sea and salt and she moved from his chest to his arms, tracing her fingers and tongue over the dark patterns that twined about his flesh. He stroked at her neck and back as she did this, allowing her to sample and explore at her leisure. His touch was the most gentle she’d known in years.
Till bent down to kiss her again, and she needed to lean back with her hands on the mattress to support herself as she sought his mouth with hers. She’d never had the opportunity to know the simple pleasure of kisses, but this man seemed of a mind to teach her. Taking note of the ways he teased, she tried one of his tactics and let him feel a nip of her teeth at his lower lip, earning a moan of arousal in return.
He was pushing her skirts over her knees now and she made no move to prevent him. When his hand moved up her thigh, she was already arching toward him with lust.
Moving his kisses wider, to include her lips, but also her throat and shoulders as he went, the quartermaster brought his fingers at last between the two of them. Hannah pushed a moan into the crook of his neck as he slipped his hand between her soaking folds. He found his way to her entrance and wasted no time slipping a finger in, and then a second.
She gasped at the fullness and the pressure within her that was still all so new, and stifled her noises of pleasure with the greedy pull of his lips on hers.
His movements were growing distracted now and she felt his hand pull away from her and begin to fumble at the waist of his breeches. She knew what would be coming next and she’d never been more ready. This time it would be her choice.
“Hannah,” he said, calling her by name for the first time, the intimate word coming at a rasp, “please.”
Hearing him speak to her this way, his voice thick with desire, and at the same time seeming to ask for permission, tipped the scales that final measure.
“Yes,” was the only word she needed to whisper as their eyes locked together once more. He pulled her by her thighs further over the edge of the berth so her backside was barely resting there at all. As he leaned forward to take himself in hand, Hannah laid back on the bed in acceptance, legs parted in a picture of debauchery.
She groaned and closed her eyes for a moment at the first touch of his erection sliding through her abundant moisture. Her hips rolled of their own accord at this prompt, eager for what was to come. With an aim and a push, Benjamin Till was inside her again, and this time no one held her in place, and she had no interest in squirming away. This time she could watch him have her.
He began to move and all of her senses came into focus on the pulsing heat between her legs. His size stretched her wide and ploughed deep, and she rose to greet his hips with her own, finding her inexperienced body knew this rhythm without instruction.
Their breathing quickened in time with the thrusts and she was already lost to the ageless dance, but Till had one last gift to give. He popped his thumb into his mouth to wet it, and then brought it in a smooth motion down between the joining of their bodies.
Hannah didn’t understand his aim until the thumb brushed over that normally hidden bit of flesh which had caused her so much trouble during that long ago dinner.
A gasp tore from her throat as though she’d been doused with a pitcher of cold water, and Till placed his free hand lightly over her mouth in amused response. He looked at her and shook his head, indicating she might wish to stay quiet. She nodded at him to show she understood and he removed the hand to watch her mouth opening and shutting, the only evidence of her silent cries of joy, at his expert handling.
The pumping came faster now and she spread her thighs wider to allow as much of him inside as possible. He kept his thumb at work in unison, pushing her always toward the limits of sensation.
She knew it was close to happening again, that feeling she’d had only twice before, and she steeled her body against the waves of pleasure for one long final moment. The edge hurtled toward her. Till pushed her over.
Hannah fell and fell for an eternity through bliss and damnation. Her mouth opened wide in a silent scream of joy, her blue eyes rolling up and her palms thumping the mattress in the only sort of expression she could find for the ecstasy bursting out of her.
Bucking and shuddering, she came around him with wild abandon, all cares for anything but sensation forgotten. In response to the sight of her total surrender, the man between her legs went rigid himself, gritting his teeth in the throes of his own silent battle with completion. A warm rush burst inside of her and Hannah wondered if what he felt in that moment was as indescribable as the pinnacle she’d found herself.
The two of them were slow to come down, the only sound in the cabin their heavy breath and final small noises of relief. Hannah raised herself up on her arms again and, with their bodies still joined, she captured Till’s mouth anew, lavishing gratitude and affection on the first man to give her pleasure for no other purpose but to see her enjoyment.
Blackburn could take a lesson from him, that fiend.
The interruption of her happiness with an inopportune thought of the captain brought her crashing the rest of the way back to reality. Why would her mind ruin this moment with reminders of the other man?
Because you burn for his touch just as badly, you shameless jade.
As if Till were reading her thoughts, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand and spoke to her in a quiet voice, taking care to choose his words. “It could be like this … with him. He isn’t the knave he seems, Mrs Collingwood. I … I just don’t think he knows to act otherwise.”
She couldn’t believe what he was saying to her, much less attempt to entertain tho
ughts of the captain while his quartermaster was still nestled up inside her. Squirming back on the mattress in a move to end their intimate pairing, she shook her head in denial of his words. “Please … can we not speak of him now?”
“Of course,” he said, and his face let her know he’d seen his error in broaching the topic. He leaned forward to place a tender kiss on her forehead and repeated, “Of course.”
Hannah pulled her skirts down over her weakened knees and slid from the bed to stand beside a sated Mr Till. They spent several luxurious moments in a last embrace, his arms a comfort around her and a temporary security against the sea of uncertainty facing her aboard a ship she was never meant to be on in the first place.
After a few more hungry kisses, Till made his apologies that he would need to return to his duties as he’d been gone far longer than expected. He collected the plate and pitcher he’d brought and made his way out of the cabin.
After watching the door close behind him, Hannah was alone and confused again. The feeling was quickly becoming her normal state. How could Till claim her body one moment and then try to convince her to accept Blackburn the next? What sort of history did these two men have that they should be so casual about the idea of sharing a woman? And what sort of person was she that, despite the captain’s monstrous treatment of her, she was not able to decide, between the two of them, which man set her aflame the most?
* * * *
Edmund stood at the wheel of The Devil’s Luck, having taken over for the helmsman, sending the man off to secure his share of food from the galley while there was still any left. Of course, there were other crew members who could have served as relief, but outside of his stateroom, the wheel was Edmund’s favourite place to be on his ship. Particularly if he could be there alone. It gave him a quiet place to look upon the unending sea and think.