The Devil's Luck (The Skull & Crossbone Romances Book 1)

by Eris Adderly

  Says the man who’s done little else but upset her. Benjamin was right. How is that bastard always right?

  “Mr Defoe, I’m sure, is a talented man,” she continued, her voice softer now, “but there are simply no words to describe what happened that day. Not from any tongue of man, at any rate.”

  He was losing her into the memory of the terrible event. This was not unfolding as he’d hoped. And more important, he was losing himself while he watched and listened to her, and to a debilitating set of emotions he did not want to name, even in his most secret thoughts. He needed to resurrect this situation before it was irretrievable.

  Edmund reached up and ran the back of his hand in a gentle line along her forearm where it rested on the railing. She turned her head to meet his eyes at the touch.

  “There are other things, Mrs Collingwood, which no words can describe.” As the statement left his mouth, he realised it had not been some clever line to win her affection.

  The pain drained out of her face now and her pale blue eyes held his, searching. He had not taken his hand from her arm and he turned his palm over to rest his fingertips there. Emotions played out over her features, competing for mastery. Edmund thought he saw fear, but also disbelief, and possibly something else? Hope, perhaps?

  She turned away from the gunwale to face him, her arm pulling away from his touch in the process. Still silent, she stared up at him now with as much uncertainty on her face as was coursing through him at that very moment. If he wasn’t exceedingly careful, he could ruin this.

  He took a deliberate step into her space, trying not to frighten her with any sudden moves, as though she were some skittish animal. The distance between them mirrored the tantalising proximity she didn’t even know they’d shared last night in his bed. He saw that her breasts were rising and falling with the quickness of her breath, but she did not step away.

  Edmund wanted her acceptance like nothing he’d wanted in a very long time. He could no longer hold himself back.

  She still did not shrink away when he slid his left arm around her waist to pull her the rest of the way to him. His own heart was racing as if he were some nervous boy. Dare he risk another kiss now? Perhaps one that wouldn’t end in biting and punishments?

  “Hannah.” Her name came on his breath like a promise and he inclined his head just the slightest degree, not pushing himself on her, but making his unspoken request clear.

  Her unblinking gaze went on for a maddening length of time and Edmund was nearly ready to give up on the whole affair as a failure, but in a move that spoke of a hard fought decision, she raised herself up on her toes and accepted his silent offer by placing her lips on his.

  For a moment, he froze, almost unsure what to do now that she was granting his wish. Desire overcame fear, though, in a warm rush, and he melted into tasting her the way he’d wanted to the first time.

  He’d only put the one arm around her at first, giving her a route of escape if she’d truly wanted to flee, but now that she’d granted him some level of permission he circled his other arm ‘round as well, pulling her against him in a fast embrace.

  The kiss was exquisite, better than he’d hoped. She was no longer timid and met the strokes of his tongue with the heat of her own. They ranged all over the map of the lover’s art, one moment fevered and desperate for mastery, the next in languid exploration. Her hands had slipped inside his coat to press against his back through his shirt and she moaned into his mouth as they savoured each other.

  She broke off the kiss and for a second he panicked, but to his pleasant surprise, she pressed her lips up under his jaw, nudging his face upward with a nod of her head. Edmund felt her chin work against him as she made her way along the column of his neck with her mouth. A nip of her teeth made the blood surge to his cock and a low groan rise up in his throat.

  Bloody hell, who is this woman? What did Benjamin do to her?

  The astonished questions in his head, he found, deserved further serious consideration, when she didn’t slow down at setting her lips to his throat, but slid her hands down to clutch at his backside, grinding the two of them together at the hips. He could barely contain his surprise at her brazen actions, and he knew she could feel his throbbing response through his breeches. A silly hope flitted through his mind that she might be pleased with the size and feel of his lust.

  There was no holding himself back. His hands were at her shoulders, her hair, skimming over the tops of her breasts. Their mouths came together again and they devoured each other, the desperate pull of her lips and teeth driving his hunger for her to a tremulous pitch. She whimpered with need at the dangerous edge she’d brought them to teeter upon and he knew that if there was ever a time to gamble, this was it.

  He gripped her by the waist and spun her to face the gunwale, pressing the length of his body against hers the way he’d wanted to in the bed last night. There might be a man or two on watch, but Edmund didn’t care who saw him just then. The graceful arch of her neck bent to the side under his mouth and she pushed her firm little bottom against his erection, challenging him to take what he wanted.

  “Please,” she said, the rasp of her appeal to him unnecessary. His fingers were already frantic, gathering up the back of her skirts and groping to free his aching length into the open air.

  He couldn’t imagine stopping himself now, but he wanted to be certain of her choice.

  “Hannah … shall we?” His question came thick and urgent, positive he would expire on the spot if she denied him now.

  “No!”

  “No?” He couldn’t believe her sudden refusal. The entire careening carriage of his libido lay overturned in the roadway.

  “I mean … please, Captain”—she struggled between his body and the railing, her breath coming short—“not here. Not where everyone on watch can see. Can we not share this below? The two of us alone?”

  Edmund was a hair’s breadth from ploughing ahead anyway, so high burned the inferno of his lust at that moment. The sincerity he heard in her simple plea, however, pulled him just enough out of the bonfire to realise that if he did so he would undo everything he’d earned thus far.

  Grabbing her hand up in his, he turned and all but flew back over the deck the way he’d come in great, purposeful strides, pulling Hannah along behind. The poor woman nearly had to run to match his pace, and he thought he might have heard a feminine giggle bounce out of her as she stumbled behind him along the way. The inversion was not lost on him between the way he’d dragged her naked up onto the deck before to do something horrible to her, versus the way he was tugging her, fully clothed, back below decks now to try something wonderful instead.

  No sooner than they made it down the few steps into the council room and he’d slammed the door to the upper deck shut in haste, but Edmund had her pinned again, the same as before, between his body and the room’s long central table. His stateroom was a dozen paces too far: he needed her now.

  Fabric was rucked up under his hands, air from both their lungs could be heard hurrying in and out and, once more, they were at the precipice—and now out of sight of the crew.

  “Now, Hannah?” He pressed her again, desperate for her assent.

  “Yes! Please … yes.” Her hoarse permission was the last sign he needed.

  Edmund slid himself down between the silken curves of her bottom and bit back a loud groan when he found the wet mess she’d become with the head of his shaft. It was clear his lovely widow wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Angling his cock to meet her entrance, he gave a firm upward thrust and found himself encased in the slick grip of Hannah Collingwood once again.

  Dear God! And this time … this time listen to her Edmund. The sounds, for Heaven’s sake!

  She gasped at the force of his entry and the sound drank down his will. Her hips tilted up to better accommodate him and he lapped up her acceptance with long, deliberate strokes. It didn’t matter now why she’d changed her mind about him, only that she had. One han
d at her waist and the other curled up under her arm to grip her shoulder, he pushed up into her again and again, greedy for her noises of pleasure, her willing embrace.

  They worked together there in the darkened council chamber, the sturdy surface of the table helping to force their bodies together at the hip. Edmund was soaring in triumph at the way she relaxed her weight against him, his wildest hopes for the evening surpassed by her unbridled surrender to her desires.

  Their motions became shorter, quicker, each straining toward the infinite. She covered his hand at her shoulder with hers, the fingers of her other hand circling behind his neck as she lay her head on his shoulder. Her jaw was slack, lost as she was in sensation, and her throat moved in wordless plea. She was so, so beautiful this way and he knew the image of her like this would be burned for ever into his memory—no matter what became of the two of them in the end.

  Liquid heat clenched around his cock and he knew she was just as close as he was. So very, very close.

  “Captain … yes, God!” Her urgent whispers set him aflame, but he felt the tiniest distance in the remnants of her formal address.

  “We’re beyond that now, aren’t we Hannah?” he ground out between his teeth. So close, so close. “Use my name if it pleases you.”

  “Edmund!” she cried out then, and loud enough that someone would probably hear, even from outside the room. “Edmund, please!”

  It was all he needed.

  He reached the peak of his firmness in that last painful moment before he came, his flesh so sensitive it almost hurt. Edmund surged over the walls of completion with an intense but muffled growl and he set his teeth against her shoulder to help conceal his sounds of sweet release.

  Hannah mumbled nonsense into his ear, working through her own shuddering climax while he pumped his hot seed into her, joining them together in joyful oblivion. Nothing mattered at the moment but this. Nothing.

  The height of their passions subsided, but he still pushed into her with lazy strokes, hoping to prolong the blinding pleasure of their union for a moment or two longer.

  She craned her neck to the side to kiss him and, before her eyes closed in bliss, she caught him in a heartbreaking gaze.

  Despite all he’d done to her, Hannah Collingwood wanted him, and did so with reckless abandon. Edmund thrilled at this turn of events, wallowing in her favour. His happiness needed to overtake him now, if it were to push down the nagging thoughts of what would happen once she discovered his plans for her uncle. He would delay that revelation for as long as humanly possible, and soak up the approval she’d given him, for whatever time he could.

  * * * *

  Chapter Five

  Razed to the Ground

  “For after all, the best thing one can do when it is raining is let it rain.”

  – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  * * * *

  Hannah found some dark humour in the fact that she could no longer tarry near that portion of the ship: the gunwale on the port side, just in front of the stairs to the forecastle. If she lingered there for more than a moment, and happened to catch anyone’s eyes, she’d end up blushing redder than a sunset.

  Someone had to have seen her and the captain there that fateful night, when he’d nearly taken her right out in the open. She didn’t know why it should matter, at this point. There was no doubt everyone aboard knew the reasons for Blackburn’s prohibitions against laying hands on her. The navigator, Osbourne, had seen it with his own eyes, for pity’s sake. No, there was no longer any sense in shame, though she felt it nonetheless.

  She’d been surprised Blackburn had been able to keep his word about the two days’ freedom he’d promised from his advances. It was possible, though, that her own hypocrisy surprised her more. The way she’d demanded the captain leave her alone, only to turn about and throw herself at his quartermaster instead the very next day.

  You have no idea what you want, do you Hannah?

  The night he’d come to her out on the deck had been the most confusing yet. Edmund, she thought, remembering how she’d surrendered with his name on her lips. He seemed a different man, the way he approached her with conversation about the book she’d been reading. As her memories had been stirred by Defoe’s account, a part of her wanted to curse the man whose presence and words could bring her around from lamenting the losses of a long ago disaster like the storm to burning under his kisses in mere moments. The wiser portion of her realised, however, the captain alone didn’t own the blame.

  Hannah had milled about the open deck on that first full day out of his cabin, but her mind had not been on the sun or the sea air, pleasant though they both felt. Instead, she’d thought about the previous night, in the captain’s bed. He might have thought her fast asleep, and she was pleased with the success of her pretence, but Hannah had been wide awake when he’d moved in to lay so near to her.

  Schooling her breath to a careful deep rhythm, she held still as a stone in her position at the inner edge of the thin mattress. The captain was shifting again in the bed, and Hannah was certain he would find some torment for her if he knew she was awake.

  She felt his body move closer to her and it was all she could do to force the immediate tension in her muscles into some relaxed semblance of sleep. The heat from his proximity twisted her insides into a condensed point of anticipation. Long moments went by with her nerves strung as taut as bow, and when he laid a careful hand on her hip, it was all she could do not to cry out at the contact.

  The captain didn’t move and neither did she. Hannah’s jaw clenched in the darkness, working to contain her anxiety. The touch of his fingers, light though it was, burned through the fabric of her garment and she was sure at any second now he would break his promise and set upon her.

  As if the tentative weight of his hand weren’t enough, Hannah noticed with renewed terror that a firm heat was growing against her bottom. Surely now she would be done in. She needed to lay there and tolerate it and feign sleep for all she was worth. It took all of her will not to jerk her hips away from his lust in horror. Or worse, not to give in to her own hidden desires and press herself back into him.

  She nearly disintegrated in relief when he rolled away from her at last, leaving her inviolate for a second night.

  Yes, Blackburn had revealed another side of himself when he’d thought she’d been asleep. The man could show restraint if he wished. He could also keep a promise. The two revelations had not helped Hannah at all in trying to repress the inexplicable growing ache she felt for him. When he’d laid his hand on her arm at the gunwale that night and spoke those words to her, his deep brown eyes already drinking her in, she’d packed her fears and denials away in a tidy compartment and had delivered her secret hopes into his embrace.

  Now, as she sat in the sunlight atop an empty crate at the foot of the main mast, the book she’d borrowed from the captain’s stateroom going ignored in her lap, Hannah shook her head in rueful amusement. The day she’d arrived on the ship, by fortune or folly she knew not which, seemed like a lifetime ago now. An uncovering process had begun in the last few days in which the old Hannah who lived in books and thoughts was being peeled back to reveal a raw, new Hannah who hungered for sensation and chased after fulfilment in the heady, tangible world around her.

  * * * *

  “Will you rest here a while?” he said to her, mopping his brow with his crumpled shirt.

  It was a new thing for Hannah, to be taking constant notice of the play of a man’s muscles as he moved about. She surely did now, though, as her sated gaze wandered in approval over the bare shoulders of Benjamin Till.

  The quartermaster’s cabin was, of course, smaller than the captain’s was by far, but it was still larger than that cubby-hole Graves had shuffled her and Brigit into that first morning. It even had a window. Hannah leaned against the wall that backed Till’s sleeping berth, a pleasant tired ache in her limbs once more from a mid-afternoon’s tumble with the tattooed man.

  “Y
es, I think I will,” she said, deciding aloud, her weakened knees in no mood to raise her back onto her feet at the moment.

  “Well be careful, Mrs Collingwood,” he said her, leaning over her on supporting arms to steal a lingering kiss, “a man could become accustomed to finding a fine lady asleep in his bed.”

  “If I’m asleep when you return, Mr Till, you have my permission to rouse me,” Hannah countered with the beginnings of a smile. He chuckled at her suggestion and, answering her with a wink, stepped out of the cabin, shutting the door behind him.

  She sighed in contentment. If only she could keep her focus on the present, as she did now, and not the future where uncertainty lay, she would enjoy herself yet.

  Hannah had lived twenty-eight years knowing only the briefest touches of one man, her lawful husband, such as he was. Now, since boarding The Devil’s Luck, she’d first been taken by, and then given herself to, two different men, and both of them criminals.

  The irrational part of her had been quite ready to accept her new reality, as it paid mind only to sensation and worldly want. The voice of reason in her head had demanded, however, at least some semblance of an acknowledgement from the captain that the way he’d used her in the beginning was no way at all to treat a lady. She’d needed to hear from him that it would not continue.

  “Edmund.” She breathed his name like a sigh, her heartbeat coming back under control after their urgent coupling in the darkened council room. “If it can be this way, I …”