The Buccaneer

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The Buccaneer Page 20

by Donna Fletcher


  A response proved difficult. Breathing proved difficult. Thinking proved difficult. She nodded her head.

  "You will rest?"

  She nodded again; doubting rest would be possible now.

  He smiled and brushed a kiss across her lips. "I will make certain sleep comes easily for you."

  With that he lowered his head and claimed her intimately.

  o0o

  Later that night when most of the crew slept and the sea slumbered and the night sky sparkled with hundreds of stars Lucian and Catherine stole up onto the deck.

  Lucian wearing only his breeches and Catherine snug in his shirt and a quilt cuddled comfortably on the deck.

  "Will we reach Heaven soon?" she asked, anxious to see his home, but nervous that this special time they shared would end all too soon.

  "Two or three days at the most."

  "Tell me about your home."

  "It's like no place on earth," he said. "The island welcomes all regardless of wealth or manner. Rules are set forth and everyone obeys for each islander respects their freedom too much to jeopardize it. Food is plentiful. Fresh fruit grows profusely. Fresh fish is available with a simple drop of a baited line into the sea. Shelter is but a day's work of constructing a hut until a more permanent structure can be constructed."

  "It sounds like paradise, this Heaven."

  "It is, and created by people who spent most of their lives in hell."

  Catherine remained silent, well aware that Lucian would continue. She had come to understand him well. He often paused to give an important subject thought before proceeding.

  "Outcasts, they are. Accused of thievery, murder, and whatever else the Crown decided was their crime."

  He paused once again and Catherine understood that his concern for these people weighed heavily on him.

  He continued, his voice deep with emotion. "Many stole to feed their children. Some murdered out of self-defense and some never murdered at all, but were accused nonetheless since the aristocrats could suffer no blame. England's unwanted and long-suffering wash up regularly on my shore. Some survive, some don't. But Heaven welcomes them regardless. I turn none away. The island was deserted when I came upon it. So all who live there now come from foreign shores. Even the island people there are from other islands where they found living intolerable. It's a haven for those willing to work and keep the island flourishing. Everyone does their part in maintaining Heaven as the perfect paradise."

  "Then your island is most appropriately named." She relaxed when she felt the rumble of laughter deep in his chest.

  "Heaven is exactly as I imagined it. Thick with foliage and flowers so colorful and beautiful they take one's breath away. And beaches of white warm sand to stretch out upon and soak in the sun while a crystal blue sea beckon one to swim."

  "Swim?" Catherine asked cautiously. "You swim often?"

  "Every day," he answered. "We'll swim together. I promise you'll enjoy it."

  Catherine shook her head. "I don't think so."

  "You don't think you'll enjoy it?"

  "No." She shook her head again. "I can't swim."

  Lucian lifted her chin. "You can't swim?"

  "Where I lived the skill wasn't necessary."

  "Where you live now, the skill is extremely necessary," he insisted. "I will teach you."

  "But —"

  "I will teach you," he repeated sternly, warning her the matter was settled.

  Catherine refused to argue the point. When the time came, she would decide if swimming was a skill she wished to acquire. A yawn raced to rush free and try as she might Catherine couldn't hide its escape.

  "It's time to retire," Lucian said.

  "I only yawned once," she protested, enjoying their late-night interlude.

  Lucian ignored her objection, setting her aside to stand, then reaching down to scoop her up into his arms. He carted her off to his cabin and placed her on the bed.

  She unwrapped herself from the quilt and slipped out of his shirt. Arranging the covers as Lucian undressed, she shook the quilt to span out upon the bed and settle across the length.

  She heard a small ping and looked about to see the cause of the faint noise.

  Lucian joined her in the bed, beneath the covers. "I found the culprit who puzzles you." He raised his hand and between his fingers he held a pearl.

  She took it from him. "I thought I had found all of them."

  He heard sorrow in her voice and felt her loss. "I will replace your pearl necklace."

  Catherine turned and leaned on his chest, rolling the pearl between her fingers. "It isn't necessary."

  "Why?" he asked, watching her caress the small pearl.

  "The strand of pearls was my protection, my armor against you."

  "And you don't wish this protection replaced?" he asked, reaching up to caress her cheek.

  She shook her head. "It's no longer necessary."

  "Why?" His whispered query sounded anxious.

  Her eyes held his. "You're my protection now, Lucian. I shall never fear anything as long as you're near, or as long as I hold your strength in my heart."

  Her words cut deep, touching his heart, caressing his soul. He captured her mouth instantly, needing to show her how he felt, needing to lock away the surprising words that had almost tumbled from his lips.

  He wouldn't. He couldn't admit that he could possibly be in love with Catherine Abelard. The thought was ridiculous, impossible. He was Lucifer the pirate. He possessed no soul or heart. He cared for nothing. Nothing but—

  The soft ping reached his ears. She had released the final pearl. She lay bare before him. His to do with as he wished.

  He wrapped his arms around her and settled her beneath him. "Tonight, angel, I'm going to take us to the very depths of madness."

  "I'll go anywhere with you, Lucian."

  "They don't allow angels in hell," he said sadly, and moved to claim her lips.

  Catherine pressed a finger to his seeking lips. "The devil isn't welcome in Heaven, but he resides there anyway. Anything is possible, Lucian. Anything."

  He smiled. "Like a strand of pearls that defended your honor?"

  "And like a man who took my virginity with desire instead of revenge."

  They stared briefly at one another and then reached out to once again make memories.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Catherine spied the small speck in the distance. She leaned on the railing squinting against the bright sunlight to get a better look. Her bare feet hugged the deck of the ship as it cut with speed through the water, the sails having caught a high wind. She wore a pair of Bones' Sunday-best breeches rolled up to her ankles and Lucian's white linen shirt that fell past her knees. The sleeves were rolled up numerous times and still hung to her wrists. Her hair she had tied back with a black ribbon, though the wind freed several silver strands to whip about her face.

  The crew bustled around her in excitement. Their tension ran high, but not from an impending battle. They were going home.

  "Be in Heaven by morning," Bones said, his grin wide as he rushed past her.

  She returned his smile and continued to study the tiny spot that was Lucian's home. The last few days had been blissful. They hadn't been able to get enough of each other. Even now her flesh anticipated his touch.

  Would all be the same once they reached his island? Would he be the same? And when? When would his revenge that lay so silent beneath the surface emerge and shatter their paradise?

  "A pertinent name for the place," Santos said, walking up to stand beside her.

  "Why do you say that?" He had piqued her curiosity, especially since Santos told the most marvelous stories.

  "Didn't Lucian tell you how the island got its name?"

  Catherine shook her head and smiled.

  Santos rested against the wooden rail to comfortably relate the tale.

  Catherine settled herself as well and listened.

  "Lucian, I, and a few crew members had jus
t taken over the pirate ship that had freed us from the merchant ship years before. The pirate captain had been a vile sort and detested by his crew. It was fairly easy to lead a mutiny."

  "What happened to the captain?"

  Santos wore a wide grin. "Lucian made certain his punishment was worthy of his crimes."

  Catherine didn't request a more detailed explanation.

  "We were tired, hungry, and in dire need of a cleansing. Lucian instructed the crew to anchor at the first island we spotted.

  "Heaven?" she asked excitedly.

  Warm, powerful arms slid around from behind her to lock at her waist.

  Catherine leaned back against hard muscles, fully aware of who would dare be so familiar with her.

  "Her mouth never ceases with questions long enough for you to complete a story," Lucian teased.

  Tilting her head back, she childishly stuck her tongue out at him.

  "Careful, madam, your suggestive action sorely tempts me."

  Catherine blushed three shades of red before scolding him. "You are positively the most sinful man."

  "And you love my sinfulness, don't you, angel?"

  "Lucian!" she scolded again, and turned ten shades of red.

  He laughed and gave her a playful squeeze. "Finish your story, Santos. I think I have managed to silence her for the moment."

  Santos nodded with a pleased smile. "As I was saying, Lucian instructed that we anchor at the first island sighted. By the time we arrived, our thirst was great, our hunger gnawing, and our bodies protesting the bugs."

  "Bugs?" Catherine repeated.

  "Hush," Lucian warned.

  "Bugs are common on pirate ships," Santos explained.

  "I haven't noticed any —"

  "I insist on a clean ship, madam. Now let Santos finish."

  Santos hurried the story along. "We dropped anchor and rowed a longboat to shore. Fresh fruit hung so thick and heavy from the trees and on vines that the branches bent with the weight. The men feasted until full. A pool of cool, clear water was found and our thirst quenched, then our bodies bathed."

  "So you named —"

  A hand slipped over her mouth silencing her.

  "Finish quickly," Lucian warned.

  Santos laughed, shaking his head. "It will take much to silence this woman."

  Lucian responded to him in Spanish.

  Santos laughed.

  Catherine turned twenty shades of red having been taught to speak fluent Spanish and having understood perfectly Lucian's boastful remark that his mouth and hands usually silenced her in seconds.

  Santos continued. "Lucian and I sat by the campfire that night, his only words being, 'we just escaped from hell, this must be Heaven.'"

  Lucian released her mouth when he felt her smile against his palm.

  "You must tell me more stories of Lucian and yourself," Catherine urged.

  "No," Lucian said coldly.

  Santos patted her arm. "Another time." He walked away grinning.

  "Why won't you —"

  He interrupted curtly. "Let the past be for now, Catherine."

  Catherine didn't argue. The past would surface fast enough to haunt her. "Will you show me how to pick fruit from the vines?"

  "That and more. We'll swim the blue waters of the sea and the cool waters of the lagoon naked. We'll make love on the warm sand and in the garden where I can sprinkle your bare flesh with flower petals."

  "Lucian," she cried softly and teasingly added, "you sorely tempt me."

  "Can I tempt you down into my cabin now?" he whispered near her ear.

  "It is but late morning," she said, properly shocked, and yet pleased by his suggestive invitation.

  "Good, then it gives us the remainder of the day to enjoy each other." He turned her in his arms. "And I warn you, madam, it will take me that long and then some to get enough of you."

  Catherine read the fiery passion in his eyes and decided to enflame it. "Love me like you never have, Lucian?" she whispered for his ears alone, and dropped her face to rest against his chest.

  "Are you prepared for the consequences of such a request?"

  She wasn't prepared for anything. Not this intimacy between them, not this passion that ran rampant through her, and certainly not this love she was feeling. She draped her arm around his neck. "I'm prepared to trust you."

  He lifted her chin and warned sternly, "Never trust the devil."

  Catherine smiled and shook her head. "Don't you know, Captain Lucifer, that an angel can tame the wickedest soul?"

  Lucian ran his finger over her lips. "Don't you know, angel, that the devil doesn't possess a soul?" With that he scooped her up, stepped over coiled ropes, marched past cheering men, and carried her beneath to his cabin.

  After kicking the door shut he lowered her to the floor, pressing his body to hers until she was forced up against the closed door.

  His mouth sought hers, hungry and thirsting, while his hands roamed beneath his shirt meeting the warm flesh of her full breast.

  "I'm going to take you right here, angel. Against this door with your legs wrapped tightly around me."

  Catherine looked at him strangely. "Is that —"

  "No questions," he ordered, and swiftly rid her of her shirt.

  Warm and wet, his tongue circled her nipple. "I love when your nipple hardens in my mouth."

  Catherine blushed, shutting her eyes against his descriptive words and actions.

  "Your taste excites me," he said, and licked the hard bud, sending gooseflesh straight down to the tips of Catherine's toes and rushing back up again.

  He freed himself of his shirt and unfastened his breeches. His tongue returned to delight her while his hand worked at freeing her of her breeches.

  "Are you ready for me, angel?" he asked, tucking his fingers in her breeches and sliding them slowly down her hips. "Are you?" he repeated, his teeth tugging at her nipple.

  Rational thought escaped Catherine. Her nipple tingled with every lick and tug he treated it to and his remarks — Lord, but his bold remarks could spark the most dwindling flame, fanning it to full blaze.

  "Shall I discover for myself, angel?" he asked, and didn't bother to wait for an answer. His finger dipped into her and she closed around him. He explored deeper and deeper, feeling her warm wetness, feeling her muscles convulse, feeling her desire grow.

  Catherine groaned and grabbed hold of his shoulders for support.

  "I think," he said, easing her garment down her legs, "that you need some wicked tempting." He bent down, hastily removing the breeches past her feet and casting them off to the side. His mouth then found her and took her with a gentle intimacy.

  Her head dropped back against the door, her eyes fluttered closed, and her moans filled the cabin.

  Good Lord, she had never imagined, never thought —

  Thought escaped her as his tongue skillfully toyed with her and his fingers worked magic. She tingled, she ached, and she never wanted him to stop loving her.

  But he stopped and a protesting sigh ran from her lips.

  He stood, took her hand, and whispered against her mouth before kissing her. "Free me." He guided her hand down inside his breeches to his swollen shaft.

  Nervous, her fingers faltered as she wrapped around him. Hot and hard, he pulsated in her hand.

  "Do you want him inside you?" he asked, his breathing labored.

  Large but accommodating, she thought, and nodded, words failing her.

  "Then free him, angel. Free him so he can bring you pleasure." His speech was strained and broken by heavy breaths.

  Catherine realized his need was as close to bursting as hers. She gently eased him out of his breeches, stroking the long length of him as she did. He felt so good, so wickedly right to her touch that guilt swept over her. And her hand slipped off him.

  He captured her retreating hand and replaced it around him. "Don't, angel, don't ever think that it's wrong to touch me so intimately."

  Surprised a
nd encouraged by his understanding of her feelings she stroked him again and again and again. Until he moaned and removed her hand.

  "Enough or I'll burst in your palm."

  Her own passion near to bursting, she thrust her hips forward.

  He smiled and kissed her. "Do as I tell you. I don't want this to hurt you."

  "You could never —"

  “I could easily hurt you, angel, and I have no desire to cause you pain — only pleasure."

  He grasped her beneath her buttocks and hoisted her up. "Wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist."

  She did as he instructed, resting her forehead against his. "I once feared your size."

  He eyed her strangely.

  Realizing his misunderstanding, she corrected, "The height, the breath, the width of you. You took my breath away."

  He adjusted her against him, bracing her back against the door. "Then my size no longer frightens you?"

  She smiled and brushed her lips across his as he had done so many times to her. "Your generous size offers me protection and safety."

  “And pleasure," he teased, kissing her soundly.

  Catherine whimpered when he tore his mouth from hers.

  "Hold tight to me, angel," he said, settling her around him. "And if you feel the slightest discomfort —"

  She gasped as he entered her, his smooth entrance startling.

  He halted his progress, though it pained him to do so. "Are you all right?"

  Her honesty spoke. "I thought you but teased me about this position."

  He laughed and allowed more of himself to slide into her welcoming nest. "Angel, this position is just one among many you'll learn is possible."

  She closed her eyes and kept her forehead rested on his as he filled her slowly and smoothly. He paused when she had accepted all of him thick and wide inside her. Then he moved. Lord, did he move. And he forced her to move with him, harder and harder and harder.

  "Paradise or madness, angel," he whispered, "which one do you want to feel?"

  Catherine as usual lost her speech. He stole her senses and drove her wild. She could form no sensible thoughts or phrases. She could barely think and a response was completely impossible.

 

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