My Seaswept Heart

by Christine Dorsey

  Anne pulled away only enough to see the glitter of his eyes. To wish she were closer to him. “What you say is possible, I assume.” Anne sighed. “So perhaps I should have my way with you instead.” That said Anne pressed against him, wrapping her arm around his neck and touching her tongue to the seal of his lips.

  He tried, but couldn’t resist such sweet torture. Jamie’s groan vibrated through his hard chest into hers. He opened his mouth, kissing her now as he had before, with passion and wanting and delicious desire.

  They rolled together onto the beach, Anne welcoming the captain’s heavy weight. His tongue thrust deep in her mouth, the sensation spiraling through her body, pooling heavy and molten at the juncture of her thighs. She could barely breathe, and found she didn’t care.

  It wasn’t until he pulled away, resting his forehead on hers that she could suck in a ragged breath. “Oh, my,” she gasped. “Oh, my.”

  “Oh, my, ’tis right.” His own voice was as raspy as hers.

  He flattened his palm over her breast, shaping it, abrading the sensitive nipple against the rough linen. And her legs spread, allowing him to slide between. Allowing his hard maleness to slide over her.

  His mouth skimmed over her jaw, biting, soothing. Anne arched back, giving him greater access to her neck, loving the feel of his beard, of his mouth on her skin. Everywhere he touched her she burned.

  When the coarse fabric of her shirt blocked his progress he ignored it, wetting the linen, clamping his mouth over her nipple.

  Anne’s fingers dug into the raw silk of his hair, holding him to her. Her mind, her body, was swamped with sensation and she couldn’t stay still. She writhed and whimpered, wordlessly begging for something she didn’t understand.

  Then his hands were at her waist, his long, clever fingers untying the length of rope holding up her breeches. Soft island breezes caressed her stomach, the skin covering her hips as he inched down her pants. When his hand covered the tight curls guarding her womanhood, Anne gasped with pleasure.

  “So pretty,” he murmured. Two fingers slid through the down, touching, igniting a spark that made Anne cry out.

  “Did I...?”Jamie could barely catch his breath. And forming words seemed an impossible task. “Are ye hurt?”

  “No.” Anne grabbed for his hand, pressing it back where it had been. “You didn’t hurt me.”

  “But I will.” Jamie bent down to brush his whiskered chin across her belly. “The first time, I can’t help it!” The scent of her body drew him lower. “Oh, Annie.” He drew his mouth across the smooth skin of her stomach, caught in the spell of her.

  Jamie pulled away long enough to tug off her breeches, and then his own. Her shirt was next to go, leaving her naked and wanting as he lowered her gently back to the gritty sand.

  “Ah, Annie,” he said as his palm skimmed down her body. “I want to be slow with ye, and gentle.” He caught his breath when she arched into his hand. “But I don’t know that I can.”

  “Then take me as you will.” Anne’s hands rode the crest of his brawny shoulders as he lowered himself between her legs. She could feel the heat and power where his hardness throbbed against her inner thigh. It frightened her. It excited her.

  And then it was his mouth inching up as it had that night when she drugged him. But tonight there was nothing to stop him and she moaned, deep in her throat when his tongue found the tight bud of sensation. “Oh, Captain,” she managed, only to have him lift his head.

  “’Tis Jamie,” he rasped, his breath fanning her tight curls.

  “Jamie,” she said, repeating the name until the exquisite torture made speech impossible. Her breathing came between exquisite moans and still he tormented, spearing her with a rhythm that opened a dam of pleasure, bursting forth in wave after wave. She writhed, unable to keep her thighs from spreading for him.

  Jamie poised above her, allowing himself a moment of anticipation. She was hot and wet, the tremors still racking her body. He thrust forward until he met the barrier of her maidenhood, then arched, impaling her. She stiffened and he stopped, holding himself on bent arms.

  “There was nothing I could do to keep from hurting ye,” he whispered into the soft skin beneath her ear.

  “It’s all right... really.” The pain had been sharp, but quickly gone. Now Anne felt only a fullness that was not unpleasant. She tilted her hips, and the anticipation of erotic sensation was fulfilled. His hands dug beneath her buttocks, lifting them, lifting sand, and instinctively she wrapped her legs around his muscular thighs.

  He drove deeper, rocking her body, sending her higher as each thrust set off a shower of sparks behind her closed eyes.

  The ecstasy built, white hot and frantic, until Anne wondered if she could stand it longer without fragmenting into a thousand pieces, like the sand that covered the shore. She could no longer think, no longer control the cries that passed her lips. Her fingers opened and closed, alternately clutching his tautly muscled shoulders and thin air. She was consumed. And still he drove her higher.

  When his mouth locked with hers, the explosion came. Overwhelming in its power, blinding in its intensity. Anne could do naught as the surge of pleasure swept her up, shattering her.

  Her body convulsed around his staff, snapping his hard-won control. Jamie’s thrusts became frenzied and he erupted within her with a ferocity that he wasn’t prepared for. With a wild cry he collapsed, his face buried in the sweep of soft, sweet-smelling curls.

  Reality returned slowly. Gone was the urgency of moments before. Now Anne felt complete and satiated like never before. His fullness still filled her. His chest and shoulders flattened her, grinding her deeper into the unyielding sand. She should have been uncomfortable. But she wasn’t. Even though her breathing was shallow, she didn’t want him to leave her. She lifted her arms, languidly wrapping them around his shoulders. His skin was slick with sweat, and smooth.

  She could stay like this forever.

  But the captain... Jamie had different ideas. Anne keened in protest when he rolled off her, but her dissatisfaction was short-lived as he took her in his arms, cuddling her close.

  They slept then, caressed by the tropical breezes, canopied by the stars.

  It was the strong feeling that someone watched her that made Anne slit her eyes open. Her smile was slow and sensual as memory and the expression on Jamie’s face brought her to full awakening. His chin was propped up on bent elbow and he watched her with something akin to fascination.

  Anne reached up and touched his cheek above the line of whiskers.

  “I’ve a mind to teach ye to swim,” he said before turning his face and kissing the tender underside of her wrist.

  Her skin tingled where his mouth touched and for a moment, what he said didn’t register. When it did, Anne sat up, knocking him away in the process. “I can’t swim. I don’t even like being in the water.”

  “Ye enjoyed floating.” He was back feasting on her skin, this time the sweet line of her neck. “Ye told me so last night.”

  She would have told him the sky was green last night, though he was right, floating was wonderful. But it also didn’t involve sticking her face into the water. And she’d watched the way he dove beneath the surface, moving his body like a fish.

  “I can’t do it,” was all she said, as the soft whisper of his whiskers trailed lower along her collarbone.

  “Which is why we shall start our lessons.”

  “Now?” Anne’s head fell back, her hair, sprinkled with sand, tickled the base of her spine.

  “Soon,” Jamie promised as his mouth clamped over the already distended crest of her bosom.

  His tongue teased the tip, then he pulled away, his thumb taking up the delicious swirling. “You’re sandy,” he said. “And so am I.”

  What did something as insignificant as sand have to do with anything? Anne’s body arched toward his touch.

  But he stopped the sensual movements of his hands and mouth and stood, reaching down to pull he
r to her feet. Anne didn’t understand his intent. His arousal was thick and heavy, the burning desire in his green eyes, obvious. But he was pulling her toward the water.

  “No, Jamie,” Anne protested but he wouldn’t stop until their feet splashed into the gentle surf. “Please.”

  “Ye need to be cleaned off, Annie. And as much as I’d like to explore every inch of your sand-covered body, I don’t think ’tis a good idea. You’ll be sore enough after last night without adding sand to your misery.”

  I’m not sore...” Anne insisted, but as she walked, she admitted to herself at least that there was slight discomfort between her legs.

  He pulled her deeper, the water teasing her knees, then her hips. But it didn’t cool the desire, the heat he’d sparked with his touch. It did soothe. Warm water against naked skin. She didn’t resist at all when he tugged her away from shore. When the turquoise liquid lapped about her breasts.

  He stopped then, cupping his hands and trickling water over her shoulders, watching the droplets, his eyes smoky with desire as they rolled down her skin. He skimmed gentle fingers down her body, washing away the encrusted sand, igniting the flames. His touch lingered on her nipples, his thumbs beading the tips until Anne moaned.

  “Bend your head back.”

  His voice was husky and deep and Anne obeyed, letting her hair float out around her face. He stepped between her legs, pressing his hard staff against her womanhood as he reached around and finger-combed the sand from her curls.

  Anne’s back arched, her toes barely found purchase in the sandy bottom. If not for his arms holding her, his muscular thighs anchoring her body, she would have floated to the surface. As it was her breasts lifted, wet and thrusting above the water.

  Jamie couldn’t resist licking the salty brine from her nipples.

  “Perhaps my suggestion of a bath wasn’t as unselfish as I thought,” he murmured as he drew her lower body against his.

  Anne instinctively spread her legs wider, wrapping them securely around his. The hands that moments before tangled in her hair, now moved down to support her back, lifting her up toward him. Her breasts skimmed the damp fur on his chest. He held her high, her thighs around his, his swollen manhood pressed to her stomach. He was hot and hard, and Anne clung to his shoulders as her hair dripped water down her back.

  “Are ye sore, tell me true, Annie. For I want no part in hurting ye again.”

  She could barely think with his staff throbbing between them, but she knew the ache she felt would not go away until he was deep inside her. She told him as much, her voice muffled by the kisses she rained over his eyes and nose. “But how?” she asked, grabbing onto his shoulders when he laughed, a deep booming sound that vibrated through her body.

  “We shall find a way, my practical Annie. We shall find a way.”

  He lifted her then, his muscles bulging from the strain, until he could reach out and take a nipping bite at her breast. Anne squealed and wriggled closer, following his urgent commands to spread her legs further.

  “Around like this. Ah, Annie. Ye feel so good.”

  “Mmmm.” Anne could only moan her agreement as she settled onto his impaling hardness.

  His open mouth tasted her skin, the sweet curve of her breast and Jamie thought he might keel over from the pleasure of it. “I’ve had fantasies of this,” he admitted, clamping his hands around her hips and lifting her. Gravity brought her back until she accepted all of him. He shifted her again, and this time Anne wriggled down, eliciting a deep, heartfelt moan from the captain.

  “Annie, lass, you’re a fast learner, ye are.”

  “I... I do my best.” By now Anne had discovered she could help pull herself up along his hair-roughened chest. The slippery feel of him was so intoxicating she barely noticed when he told her to hold her breath. The order registered as he bent his knees, plunging them both beneath the warm, caressing water.

  Anne sputtered as they shot up, still intimately joined, to continue their sensual dance among the swells. His hands moved lower, clutching her buttocks and separating them for his aggressive thrusts. They dipped beneath the water again, but this time Anne barely noticed, so wild was she with wanting, so close to the maelstrom he’d shown her last night.

  She sank down hard and his fingers reached lower, dancing across flesh sensitized by his invasion. And Anne lost her hold on reality. Spasms of pleasure seized her, tightening her thighs, raking her with pure sensual sensations.

  His body stiffened, then as he exploded inside her, his knees buckled and they both sank into the water. When they reemerged, his lips were sealed to hers. They broke off the kiss when the need to breathe became too great. As they each sucked in air, their eyes met. Their laughter burst out simultaneously and so hard that their limbs grew weak.

  “Did you really have fantasies about... about that?” Anne asked as Jamie set her down, holding onto her shoulders while she got her footing.

  “Aye. But in my daydreams it wasn’t so hard on my knees.” He grinned. “Not that I’m complaining, mind ye.”

  “No, I didn’t think you were.”

  “Actually, I think with a bit of practice we can master this technique.”

  “I’ve no doubt about your abilities,” Anne said with as serious an expression as she could. But again when their gazes locked, sobriety gave way to mirth.

  “Well, practice we may need, but it won’t be now that we’re getting it.” Jamie took her hand and started wading back toward shore.

  “Why not?” Anne stuck out her lower lip in a pout. A pout he quickly took advantage of as he bent around and gave her a hard, fast kiss.

  “For one thing, my apt student, ye really will be sore if we don’t take a bit of a rest.”

  “How long?”

  Anne smiled as his face whipped around toward hers. She actually shocked him.

  “I should think a day would do it.”

  Anne let out her breath on a sigh. “Well, I suppose if you insist.”

  “I do.” The water played around their ankles now and she stood before him naked in the sunlight. The skin usually covered by her clothes was pale, like ivory silk, and slightly puckered from their stay in the water. Her breasts were small but full, with the most delectable pink-tipped nipples that tasted as luscious as they looked.

  Jamie caught himself as his gaze roamed lower to the swell of her womanly hips and the tight curls that shielded her sex. With a jerk he raised his head, realizing his own sex was swelling and that there was nothing to stop her from noticing.

  Actually she seemed quite taken by the phenomenon, watching him, her eyes wide, her delectable mouth open.

  “No more today,” he said, catching her chin with his thumb and lifting her face toward his. She merely smiled, a smile he didn’t know her capable of smiling. The tip of her tongue peeked out, licking her lips and Jamie nearly dropped to his knees.

  It was all he could do to turn and walk toward the spot where they slept last night. With jerky motions he yanked on his breeches, then moved to their shelter to find the knife. Without looking her way he raced toward the surf. “I’ll catch us some breakfast,” he called back, before splashing face first into the water.

  He just hoped to goodness she did something to cover herself before he returned.

  ~ ~ ~

  By a week later, August seventh to be exact, for Anne still kept a series of carved notches on the largest palm tree, they’d settled into a routine of sorts. By unspoken agreement Jamie fished and cleaned whatever he caught. Anne started the fire with the wood they both gathered, and she fetched the water. Obtaining coconuts was no problem. And cooking seemed to be a “whoever was near the fire” chore.

  Anne complained that he roasted his catch too quickly, searing the outside and leaving the inside not evenly done. “It takes patience and an orderly turning of the spit to cook the fish correctly,” she told him one evening. But her argument lost its appeal when he laid the fish aside on the palm frond they used as a plate.


  “Aye, and ’tis true,” he said advancing on her step by deliberate step as she sat watching his approach. “But how can I linger over a dead-eyed fish when ’tis ye I want most to devour?”

  Proper cooking, the fish, dinner, were all forgotten as he showed her how thoroughly he meant what he said.

  Anne no longer nagged about their shelter. It appeared he was right anyway. They needed only the minimal roofing, certainly nothing wider than their entwined bodies... and often not even that. Many nights they fell asleep under the stars, satiated and happy. With Anne’s head resting on Jamie’s shoulder, his voice as he pointed out different constellations, vibrating in her ears.

  They’d slept that way last night and Anne woke in a bed of dried seaweed to stretch her hands high above her head. It was late, by the position of the sun, she guessed nearly ten, but Anne no longer chastised herself for her stay-a-bed tendencies. As Jamie said, “There was plenty of time left in the day to do whatever needed doing.”

  Leaning up on her elbows she squinted out over the diamond-splattered water, searching for Jamie. He was by nature an early riser, and spent his mornings swimming, frolicking with Lucy, and occasionally fishing.

  Anne decided the dolphin was the pet he never had, and though her own parents never kept dogs or even cats, she didn’t feel the pull to connect with Lucy. That wasn’t why she planned to swim out to the end of the rocks today.

  Anne pushed to her feet and lifted her hands lazily over her head. Then with a quick motion she yanked off the captain’s shirt, and ran naked toward the surf. Warm water tickled up over her feet, then calves as she splashed forward, diving under when it reached her waist.

  He taught her to swim with a patience he didn’t give to cooking. Slowly, lovingly, he showed her how to hold her breath, then blow out through her nose. How to open her eyes to the beauty beneath the surface, and to sweep her arms forward, and undulate her legs to propel herself through the water.

  As in most things she did, Anne was an adept student. She could now dive and float about, holding her breath, then popping her head above the surface to gulp air and laugh. But she hadn’t gone past the security of the shoreline.