Dead Man's Kiss

by Jennifer Bray-Weber

  The tip of his lips quivered, his breathing shallowed.

  His trousers hung up on his very erect shaft, and it took an extra tug to free him, sending his breeches to the floor. Glory be, he was a thick, proud sight.

  Catalina rolled in her lips, biting down. Simeon had told her about taking a man into her mouth. ’Twas a lesson he had intended to give her, but had not had the opportunity, their lives torn apart. She was glad for it, now. The intimacy and pleasure of such an act she could only imagine giving to Valeryn.

  Valeryn hissed as she wrapped her hand around his girth. “Lass…”

  The weight of it surprised her, and even more when it jumped in her grip. Velvet soft, yet hard as marble, she stroked his shaft. A bead of moisture upon his tip beckoned her. Tentatively, she flicked her tongue across his head to capture the droplet. That small action elicited a groan—or was it a whimper—from Valeryn.

  Emboldened, she swirled her tongue around his reddening crown. ’Twas a tiny taste, enticing her to sample more. She wrapped her lips around his shaft and deliberately took more of him all the way down to her hand around his base. On the way back up his length, she flicked her tongue along his underside. He palmed the back of her head, a sound tore from his throat. She repeated the move, devouring his unique salty flavor, encouraged by his fingers grasping her hair. His hips rocked as she bobbed up and down, picking up speed. She didn’t know ’twas possible, but she swore he became even harder. A hint of a new flavor swirled in her mouth. She peered up. Over the glorious expanse of his swelling chest, she watched Valeryn let his head drop back, his eyes shut tight, his mouth agape. What power, what satisfaction to be able to bring him pleasure. Her own body warmed and hummed in response to what she did to him.

  He gnashed his teeth and abruptly pulled himself from her mouth. “Nay! No more!”

  Pulling upon the fistful of her hair, he forced her to stand. The smarting and his rough handling should have angered her. Instead, it fueled her lechery further. He smashed his lips to hers again, snarling into the kiss. She may well have melted, the heat they generated was all-consuming.

  Valeryn stepped out of his trousers and guided her to his bed without breaking the suction of their mouths. Her knees backed into the mattress. The connection broke, air was hard to come by. He stared down at her a different man—an ungoverned, wicked, wanton man. Heaven help her.

  Sin, pure and delicious, curved his lips. “The Queen must now take her punishment.”

  Her entire body shivered with excitement. She had all but forgotten their earlier risqué repartee.

  He tugged her head to reveal her neck and swiped his tongue in one long lap along her neck, then nipping her ear. Without warning, Valeryn yanked down her bodice to expose her breasts. Taking one into his mouth, he showed her beading nipple the same affection as she did his shaft. Squeezing, mauling, sucking, nibbling, he was voracious with her breasts. A fresh hum of her body began to center between her juncture.

  “Out of your dress,” he ordered.

  Within moments, and with a generous amount of his help, Catalina stood before him completely nude, save her bandage around her wrist. ’Twas ridiculous, but she didn’t even want that on. Clawing at the strips, she unraveled the binds and tossed them to the floor. Puzzled, Valeryn only watched.

  “I want no barrier between us,” she explained.

  “You may wish otherwise,” he said.

  He scooped up his purple sash from where he laid it with his weapons of the desk. “Give me your wrists.”

  She did as he bade.

  As he tied them together with his sash, careful of the gashes on her arm, he asked, “Do you trust me?”

  “Unequivocally.”

  He shook his head. “Never trust a pirate, belladonna.”

  “I don’t trust just a pirate. I trust you.”

  He paused knotting the ends, absorbing her words, then resumed. “I will not hurt you, but I will hear you beg for mercy.”

  She simpered. “Oh, I do not know, Capitán. My will is steadfast.” While her will was steadfast, her desire for him weakened her physically, emotionally. She was certain he would, indeed, have her begging—begging for him to never let her go.

  “Then it is a challenge I will gladly accept.” He tightened the knot and led her to the wall with which the bed butted against. Lifting her arms over her head, he slipped the binds through a hook in the wall meant for hanging a lantern. Her breasts pressed against the cool wood, a direct contrast to her heated skin.

  She tried to look over her shoulder at the rustling sounds behind her, but all she could see were the shadows trembling under the soft glow of candlelight. The dark shades mesmerized her, concealing Valeryn’s movements, taunting her with sensual uncertainty. Where was he? What was he doing?

  Catalina flinched with the unexpected feel of worn leather gingerly caressing down her spine to her bottom.

  “So round. So perfect.” Valeryn’s voice held a rough, thick edge, calling out her unchaste mania. “This is your final chance. I won’t hold back.”

  “I won’t change my mi—”

  The leather belt whacked across her arse, a flash of pain followed. “Ow!” The sting immediately disappeared as he rubbed his callused hand over her buttock, massaging the burn. She moaned, appreciating his tender care. As a result, another smack, and then another. Tears stung her eyes along with the twinge of her flesh. She cried out, preparing for another onslaught, surprised by how much she wanted it. The throb had webbed out to ache between her legs. Odd and...titillating. Her thighs trembled from the tension. One swipe of his palm, and another pop of leather. Soft kisses replaced hand and belt. To have his lips down there was so incredibly arousing.

  “Valeryn,” she whispered.

  Fingers dug into her hips, spinning her around.

  A blush heated her cheeks. Valeryn was on his knees merely inches from her belly. She shouldn’t be insecure. They had already done more than any unwed couple should. Yet, the way he gazed upon her with heat and hunger in his eyes made her feel awkward.

  His hands grazed down and up her thighs, his breath tickled upon her core. Wildfires ignited as his thumbs brushed through her short curls.

  “Nothing smells and tastes better to a damned man than ripe, forbidden fruit.” Spreading her lips with his thumbs, Valeryn leaned forward and dragged his tongue through her seam.

  Catalina’s world fell away as a curl of pleasure unwound from her center. Madness confused her thoughts. Nothing registered but the keen tingle his tongue left behind and her desperate moan.

  “Blazes,” hissed Valeryn. He nudged her thigh and swung her leg over his shoulder, opening her for better access.

  Diving in, he licked and teased her nubbin. Kissing and sucking, his tongue danced along her core, plucking at her right mind. Flames of unimaginable desires she’d never experienced before scorched her from the inside out. She tried to concentrate on the writhing shadows upon the ceiling, to ground herself from flying out of her body. But she couldn’t keep her eyes open long enough, succumbing to the depths of the trance he put her in.

  Weakening, she bit her tongue to keep from begging for mercy. Little good that did. Pleas tumbled from her lips in her native tongue, but the desperation in her voice would not be mistaken.

  He hummed against her, hurling her headlong into oblivion. Before she reached the point of no return, he pulled away and removed her leg.

  Again! He really must stop pulling away. She was wild to give him release, and to find her own.

  Rising, Valeryn shared her juices in a raging kiss, kneading her breasts as he ravaged her mouth. Wanton and feral, Catalina fed upon his lips.

  He lifted her bound wrists from the hook and slipped her arms over his head. Until they were resting upon his shoulders, she hadn’t realized how the muscles in her arms ached. Cupping her backside, he lifted her up to sit upon his lean hips. Trapped between him and the wall, she wrapped her ankles behind his back.

  The tip of
his shaft pressed against her wet nether lips, calling back the tingle. Torture. Pure torture. Worse than any lashing. “Now, Valeryn. Now.” Her words sounded distant and small, she wasn’t sure ’twas her that had spoken them.

  “You are the death of me,” he rasped. He drove inside, filling her remarkably deep, they might never be separated.

  No build, no taking time to savor the intimacy, Valeryn pounded into her. Wood scraped her back, grunts and moans filled her ears, scents of sweat, musk, and tallow swirled in her senses. She rode atop him as if every thrust was a beat of her heart. She couldn’t live without it, without him. He kept her alive. She drew breath—gasped, really—because of him.

  Slowing his pace, he ravaged her neck. Wet kisses trailed along her throat, over her collarbone. Suddenly, she didn’t have the wall supporting her. Still astride with him buried in her, he walked them to his bed. Gently, he sank to his knees and lowered her to the mattress.

  Catalina embraced their flesh-on-flesh closeness, reveled the feel of his weight upon her. She kissed his shoulder, her tongue savoring upon his salt. Oh, how she wished her hands were free to roam over his beautiful body, to clench his firm arse, to guide him deeper into her core.

  As if reading her thoughts, Valeryn rocked his hips, pulling his shaft nearly out only to stab back in with longer thrusts. The grinding sent her shooting toward an apex. Traction increased, his hollow breaths melded into growls between clenched teeth. He was close and she was going mad.

  Her muscles seized, she was blinded in the darkness of her closed eyes by the flash of white. She cried out as her body exploded into countless pieces, suspended by lust and pleasure.

  Valeryn lurched in several more staggered stabs and then he, too, found his release. He tore himself out upon a husky croak.

  Seconds that seemed to last forever passed, his pants shuttering into her ear slowed, matching her steadying breaths. He pulled back and gazed upon her face. Catalina smiled, allowing herself to become adrift in his mesmerizing eyes, clouded with the remnants of their sweet golden surrender.

  “Belladonna,” he whispered.

  ’Twas all she could do to nod.

  He lifted her arms over his head and untied the binds, kissing the back of each hand before letting go. The care he took in cleaning their bodies was touching in its own way. But when he tucked her in close, her backside molding to him, her heart skipped. She felt protected in his cradle. More than that, she felt claimed. Could she allow herself that little bit of hope without leaving herself exposed? She had already lost much of herself to him.

  Their sticky sweat infused them together. Skin-on-skin, she wished to melt into him. Every point of contact was fixed in her mind to be kept forever in her heart. The rise and fall of his breathing, so mundane, so perfectly taken for granted, mesmerized her. Somehow, the simple act of him taking his next breath had her in suspense, kept her hanging in the balance. Like it or not, his life had become integral to hers.

  Valeryn’s arm wrapped around her waist, squeezed. He buried his face into the crook of her neck and inhaled. “My sweet poison,” he murmured.

  Catalina sighed, smiling. She could stay that way with him forever. But that one thought, the one she had successfully ignored until now, slunk forth when she hadn’t been looking. The one that asks about the journey’s end. She’d gotten what she wanted—to be taken to Los Roques, collected notes, drawings and samples, and bedded the man she’d pined for from the moment she met him. A dalliance was more than enough to cause her immense trouble and scandal. They were at sea, he was a pirate, ’twould be little more than wagging tongues and no proof.

  But she was a lady who went after what she wanted. She wanted the pirate captain. She got him. Dios, had she got him. Only she hadn’t gotten him. He had gotten her. What would become of her once they returned to Cuba? They had no future together. She was a naturalist. He was a pirate. She had a dream to pursue. He did not fit into that equation. Nor, she suspected, would he want to. Pirates scoured the seas, plundered their due, bargained alliance and allegiance, acted as free men. Desperate as she was to be respected for her naturalist contributions, she would still be confined to societal expectancies, the complete opposite of the pirate way.

  Her heart heavy, she snuggled deeper into his embrace, keenly aware of his steely shaft against her backside. She resolved to prepare herself in the coming days for the inevitable. For now, knowing her emotions would climb higher over Valeryn with each passing moment she spent with him, knowing the fall from a broken heart would be more painful, Catalina relished his fingertips squeezing her hip, his leg protectively draped over hers, and his kisses upon her pulse.

  No me arrepiento. No, she would regret nothing.

  Valeryn pried his eyes open, waking to a wicked vixen sleeping peacefully upon his chest. Evidence of the hours of pleasure they shared hung randy and thick in the air. He stared at the dying light of the lantern overhead, the tallow almost spent, spent like him. Remembering how eager and sensuous Catalina was in every position they’d carried out brought about a smile to his lips. She’d been so willing to trust him, to please him. Glory be, she had pleased him in many ways. It had been a long time since a woman made him feel this way. Not just satisfied, but genuinely content.

  He twirled a lock of her soft chestnut hair between his fingertips, reminiscing how he’d grabbed fistfuls of her luscious tresses as he pounded into her from behind, and when strands tumbled softly down her bouncing tits as she rode him until he saw stars. Christ, her glorious bouncing tits. His cock hardened in an instant. He had to stop thinking about her or he’d be waking her with the hoist of his mast.

  Stirring, she purred in her slumber and tightened her arm around his torso as if he were her pillow. He inwardly chuckled. This, being there with her like that—limbs tangled, sated, and sane, and happy—was…serene. He wondered if this was what couples were supposed to feel after unbridled passion. Enjoy it while you can.

  All too soon his mirth faded. Everything had changed. All intent, all well-meaning, all of it changed in the past twenty-four hours. His time with her was limited. In a week’s passage, she’d be back at home. And he, well, he would be making his final mark to set things right. He traced the bend of her creamy shoulder with his fingertip, admiring how Catalina was made of soft curves and sharp determination. What a woman. What a way to go out.

  “Bouse up, belladonna.” He trailed circles on her back to bring her awake.

  Like a cat waking from a long nap, she stretched and smiled.

  “’Twill be morning soon,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “You should return to your cabin before your maid misses you. I wouldn’t want her wrath upon my head,” he teased.

  She lifted her head and grinned. “Beware. She is a feisty one.”

  “She’d have to be to keep up with you.”

  A giggle so childlike swept from her lips. “She is a good woman, watching over me, being a confidant. Even when I give her a new set of wrinkles as I disobey my tio and slip out of town to explore, she keeps my secrets.”

  “Perhaps because she knows she cannot stop you from getting what you want.” He winked. “For a woman in your position, your appetite for knowledge is unique. Nalda recognizes that,” he said.

  “If only everyone would,” she sighed.

  “You have a station you are expected to uphold.”

  “I am more than that.” She became defensive.

  “Indeed, you are.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

  “If only those uptight nobs in the Royal Society would see it.”

  The pout of her lips was adorable, but he understood her frustration—to be held down, held back, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. Some nagging reason lay buried in the dark corners of his mind. But he refused to exhume it, fearful of what he would find. “They won’t see it. Won’t see you as a spirited, intelligent naturalist with something to contribute. So you force them.”

  Her cat-like eyes widened with curiosity. �
�How?”

  “Think like a pirate. You’ll find a way.”

  She drifted for a moment, absorbed in her own battered thoughts. He wanted to know those thoughts, be intimate with them. But he couldn’t get that close. Wouldn’t. Taking what she’d give was as far as he’d go. He deserved that much, damn it. And he would give her nothing more in return. ’Twas best that way.

  CHAPTER 19

  “What should I tell my father?”

  Fraco joined Valeryn as he walked the deck. Over the course of the last few weeks, the lad had ripened, both in odor and appearance. Whiskers filled in his boyish face, his hair had grown into unruly curls creeping down his neck. His skin had weathered, and he’d become notably stronger, able to haul ropes longer than when they first disembarked. Sadly, his mouth was still a source of staggering annoyance.

  “I hardly care what you tell him,” Valeryn replied.

  “Ah, but you should, Capitán, since you are sleeping with mi prima.”

  Valeryn rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, barely keeping the rush of anger in check. “Is that a threat, boy?”

  “Perhaps,” Fraco shrugged. “But I can hardly blame you. Catalina is beautiful and she is determined. She set her design on you. You were bound to fail.”

  “What do you want, Fraco?”

  “I have already gained what I needed.”

  “For me to know that you have me by the ballocks?”

  Fraco shrugged again and Valeryn wanted to smack the smirk from his face, just for the sake of doing so.

  “Know this,” Valeryn said. “Nothing you say or do now can touch me.” He moved in close, invaded Fraco’s space. To his credit, the upstart did not step back. “Tell the alcalde whatever you wish. Makes not a bloody difference to me.”

  Fraco’s mouth twisted into a forced smile. “You will hang.”