by ML Guida
“When I’m with you, William, I do not care what others think. ’Tis nothing to be ashamed of.”
He moved his hands up to her neck and slowly slid them down past her shoulders.
“Breathe in.” Tingles swirled down her arms where he touched her, leaving a trail of goose bumps. “You are fighting. It’s white magic. Pure and good.”
“I can’t transform in here. ’Tis too small.”
She licked his chest. He sucked in his breath and cursed.
She stared up at him to see if he was angry, but the deep worry lines in his forehead had vanished. He licked his lips, and his nostrils flared. Passionate gold eyes held her gaze. No, he was not hungry. He was voracious—voracious for her. She was tearing away at his resistance. “The dragon is part of you whether you are a man or beast. Allow the magic to flow through you.”
William closed his eyes and turned his head away. She leaned her head on his chest, and his heart beat slowed. She held her breath, refusing to move, not wanting to distract him.
He exhaled, and a mist swirled out of his mouth, circling around them. His form flickered and faded as he disappeared. His arms held her, cradling her, but she could not see him.
“Open your eyes,” she urged. “Look at your hand.”
He unwound one arm. “Bloody hell,” he gasped.
“One of your powers is turning invisible.” Coldness rushed over her, shivers running over her skin. She raised her hand and laughed. “And turning others invisible.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You were worried about someone walking in on us, and your dragon sent magic to alleviate your fears. Without knowing it, an image must have merged in your head, you channeled it, and manifested it. You need to work on doing this purposely.”
“How?”
“Kiss me.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Oui, you can.”
“Mariah, I can’t stop just kissing you. The dragon…me…we need more.”
“I know. I want more. Love me.”
“I—”
“We do not have to love each other in the brig.”
“What?”
“We are invisible. We can go to my space in the crew’s quarters. The canvas walls will shelter us.” She intertwined her fingers with his and pulled gently. He hissed, but allowed her to unlock the door and lead him out of the brig. No one was in the corridor or the crew’s quarters.
She pulled the blankets off her hammock and spread them onto the floor. “Is this better?”
“You’re killing me, lass,” he murmured.
“Oui, I know.”
Mariah hoped he wanted her as much she wanted him. Energy moved up her arms, and she held her breath. William was doing it! Drawing on his dragon’s powers. He flickered for a moment and vanished.
“William?”
“I tried to make us both visible. But I can’t control the power.”
“Try again.”
She clutched her dress, holding tight, hoping he’d do it. Take control of your powers, she willed.
William reappeared.
“What happened?” She reappeared and blinked at her hands. “You were able to learn the power so soon?”
Deep red stains flashed over his cheeks. “No.”
“Then?”
“Drakon wielded it.”
Mariah stared at him without saying another word. William would not seduce her and ’twas up to her. He was a man of honor, struggling not to give into temptation, a temptation she knew he desperately wanted.
She spread her fingers across the sinews of his chest, marveling at the strength. Sliding up to cup his neck, she pulled him down, and rather than fighting her, he indulged. She helped him slip out of his shirt. His hot skin took her breath away—searing, smoldering, scorching. Yet, her hands remained cooled. Magic.
He trailed kisses down her neck and unlaced her bodice, and she trembled in anticipation, waiting to feel his lips on her. This time, he did not dissatisfy her.
He tugged her dress down and freed her breasts. Cold air rushed over her taunt skin. She wanted to plead for him to worship her with his wicked mouth. Heat swelled over her at the thought. If she were more experienced, she would have moved her fingers over his body, telling him what she wanted. She swept her gaze over his magnificent build, staring boldly at his bulging crotch. She was alive with fervor; her concentration blurred. All she wanted was to become one with William.
He lowered her down onto the makeshift bed, and his silky hair teased her bare skin, sending sensitive tingles through her. When she was on the floor, she arched her back, and her nipples budded. He suckled one tight nipple, and she cried out. She cradled his head to her breast, not wanting him to let go. His velvet tongue swirled around her bud, laving her, and she could not get enough of the sensations. She did not know if ’twas the dragon’s essence or if ’twas her desire for William. But she did not care. She wanted him. Here. Now.
“I want to taste you, Mariah.”
Damp heat gathered between her legs. “Taste me?”
“Aye, your feminine secrets. Take off your dress.”
She had no idea what he meant but was eager to discover.
William shut the canvas flap and tied the laces together. He helped her escape from her dress and bodice, his calloused fingers lightly brushing against her inflamed skin. His warm breath sent shivers down her spine and ignited a wildfire of desire through her body.
William slid his hands over the curve of her shoulders, the pads of his fingers caressing her. He pulled her toward him until they were flesh to flesh and her round breasts pushed against his chiseled chest. The cold vanished, and she melted into him. He maneuvered her onto her back, and the soft woolly blankets on the floor warmed her flesh.
He stopped kissing her. “Spread your legs.”
She nodded, eager to please. “What are you going to do?”
“Taste you.”
“Taste me?”
“Aye.” He removed his trousers, and the rustling of clothes echoed in the room.
Her heart beat wildly. What if she disappointed him?
She lay vulnerable on the blankets, and too afraid to move, not sure what to do, she rubbed her arms. He knelt and moved his palms up her calves, and she jumped.
“Nervous?”
“Oui.”
He slid his palms between her thighs.
Feathery flames of desire fanned her inside her, and words faded from her lips.
“I’ve been dreaming of this,” he said. He pressed her thighs wider apart, and his silky hair traced down her legs.
“What are you doing?” she panted, squirming.
“Now, ’tis your time to breathe. I promise you’ll enjoy this. I swear.”
She swallowed, trying to stay still. Warm air blew on her feminine mound. She broke out in a cold sweat, not sure what to expect. He kissed her inner thigh, and she flinched.
He chuckled as he gripped her hips and anchored her buttocks to the floor. Nothing prepared her for his torrid mouth.
“William,” she squeaked and gripped the blanket tight. His tongue swiped a long, slow lick across her folds, wrenching a sob from her. She had never experienced anything so intimate, so tantalizing. “William,” she said, barely audible.
“Do you want me to stop?”
Before she could issue a thought, she murmured, “No.”
He kissed the juncture between her thighs, and all she could do was dig her nails into the blanket. His tongue swirled around her lips, licking her, lapping her, sending her to the very edge of reason. When he darted his tongue inside her, she arched her back, and indulged in the sweet ripples rushing over her. Her body was on fire, burning with a hungry desire. The first surge of pleasure peaked through her, and she cried out, opening her legs wider, allowing him further access to take his fill of her. She gasped for air, trying to breathe, and screamed out his name in a sobbing plea for mercy. William had been right. She’d enjoyed this sensuous
torture.
“You taste sweet,” he said. “Just as I knew my little witch would.”
He rubbed his thumb on her nub, and more pleasure surged through her, igniting another wave of bliss. Tears blurred her vision, and flutters raced down her spine. Sensations pulsed with every beat of her heart, and a clamoring need built inside her. Her body fragmented. She arched her hips and screamed.
“Mon Dieu,” she whimpered.
William kissed his way up her stomach. His velvet tongue explored her belly button, licking and kissing her. Her panting echoed in her ears. Everywhere his hands and lips kissed her, she greedily ached for more. She wanted his fingers to unlock hidden desires within her and wanted to feel him thrusting inside her,. She lost herself in this man, his touch, his smell, his kiss.
He stretched out on top of her and clasped her hand. “Touch me,” he said. She slid her hand over his hard, slick shaft and could not believe the length and size. Her desire slackened. How could she accommodate such a size within her? She was so small. Surely she would split in two. For the first time, fear cooled her desire.
“Move your fingers back and forth,” he said. She obeyed and explored him, her fingers brushing his bollocks.
“Aye, this is the way.” His voice deepened.
He kissed her, creating something molten between them, and she embraced the magic, matching his, heartbeat for heartbeat, flame for flame. She indulged in his spicy masculine taste. He ran his hand down her curves and brushed over her hips. When he slipped a finger inside her heated core, she stiffened.
“You’re so tight. I will not hurt you,” he promised. “Let me please you.”
His thumb stroked her as he moved his finger in and out. Her hips rocked to his rhythm and her nails dug deep into his shoulders. She worried she’d drawn blood. True to his word, he brought her to steamy heights of rapture that she never knew existed. She had never been so alive, so on fire, her body ruling her mind.
“I want you, Mariah.” He slipped another finger inside her. His thumb stroked her nub, igniting more passion. “I’m about to burst. I want to fill you with all of me.”
“You will rip me apart,” she murmured, fear creeping back as his shaft pressed hard against her thigh.
He closed his eyes and turned away. “I’m sorry. I got lost in the passion. This is wrong.” He put his hands on either side of her head and started to push away.
“What are you doing?”
“Leaving to jump in the ocean.”
“What?”
“Mariah, I’m so hard for you. I need some release.”
Pain and desire gleamed in his eyes. Her feelings ran deep for him, and she could not utter how she felt—scared, excited, unsure. She did not want him to leave. She licked her lips. “It will only hurt a minute?”
“Aye. But we should not be doing this.”
“Oui, we should.” She put her hand around his neck and pulled him closer.
“Mariah, I can’t…”
“I know.” She pecked him on the lips. Placing her faith into her witch’s instincts, she said, “I trust you.”
At least, she wanted to. William scorned magic, including her. She wished he would believe in her.
He settled his hips between her thighs, and his thick, hard flesh pushed against her. She clenched, waiting for the pain.
“It will only hurt a minute.” He rubbed her cheek with his. “I promise.”
She didn’t answer him and stared into his passionate eyes. With one hard thrust, he penetrated her flimsy barrier.
She cried out as a sharp white pain seized her.
The moment he shifted, her muscles clamped down on him, shooting sensations through her as he withdrew and entered again. He kissed and licked her neck, his hair teasing her molten skin. Thrills rushed over her hot body. She could not think, could not cry out. All she could do was follow his lead. Pain gave away to carnal excitement that fired through her body, heart, mind, soul. ’Twas magic.
He kissed her. “Only pleasure will fill you now.”
He slid his hands over her body, and he toyed with her nipple, pinching it. She cried out in surprise at the orgasms that swelled through her. William began to move his hips back and forth. Her muscles stretched, accommodating his size, and she sucked in her breath at the stimulating friction between them, so intimate, so intense, so sensual. She matched his pace, copying his rhythm, taking him deeper and deeper inside her.
Mariah’s body rippled with life, the pain replaced with undeniable elation each time he rocked his hips, sending a swell of dazzling rhapsody through her. Her world narrowed to one man, a pirate, his body matching her movements. Magic flowed through her veins, her pulse pounded in her ears. His flesh drove deeper into hers, long surges that welded them together, sealing their bond. Did William realize what this meant? Did she realize what this meant? Their destiny was now unbreakable.
She was bound to a man who distrusted magic. How would this ever work?
William arched his back and roared. His hot seed spilled inside her.
Ignoring her doubts, Mariah wrapped her arms around William’s neck and pulled him to her. He was buried deep inside her, and she did not want him to pull out. She brushed her leg across his powerful thigh, his strength never failing to astonish her. His rapidly pounding heart matched her own. They were spent, two warring halves, melded into one.
“I don’t know what came over me.” He pushed her hair away from her face.
“You regret this.” She couldn’t help the sadness that crept into her voice. She had wanted this and thought he did too.
“No.” He moved his palm down the front of her, brushing over her sensitive breast. “Never. I’ll always want you,” he murmured.
Sensations rushed over Mariah. She glanced down. His thumb stroked her budded nipple, and she trembled.
She stared up into his eyes and wanted more than passion from her dragon. She pushed back her disappointment. She wanted him to care for her, to whisper words a man would say to the woman he loved.
He slowly withdrew from her, and his strong arms held her. He turned her around. Heat flamed her cheeks at his possessive gaze. “My God, you’re beautiful, Mariah.”
He was beautiful too. His skin shone, and his chest heaved. He bent to kiss her, wrapping his arms around her. She arched her back, nestling against him.
Footsteps pounded into the crew’s quarters. She broke off his kiss. Mortification filled her. “William,” she whispered.
“Invisible,” he said.
The same mist flowed out of his nostrils, rushing over them and once again, tingles swept over Mariah, and she and William faded. He quickly lifted her off the floor and pressed the back of his body against hers.
Ronan ripped open the flap that led into Mariah’s make-shift room, tearing the ties. “Mariah, where the hell are you?”
Mariah clung to William. Ronan could not see them, but their clothes were discarded in a pile on the floor. She glanced at the wetness on her leg, and to her horror, drops of blood pooled onto the white blanket.
His face pale, Ronan unsheathed his sword. “O’Brien, damn you. Show yourself, you bastard. What have you done with Mariah?”
Chapter Seventeen
Lark dangled from a wooden stake implanted deep in the ground, his arms stretched high over his head. Brittle grass walls surrounded him, and the sun streamed through slots of the uneven slats of the ceiling, casting bars of light onto his body and the floor. He had been dragged from the belly of the Fiery Damsel to a grass hut on Zuto’s island. The demon himself had not made an appearance, but his power radiated throughout the island. Lark felt his presence. Zuto was stronger than Natasa, unpredictable.
An ocean breeze blew the crooked door open, shaking the walls. The chains over his head clanged against the stake, and he swayed like a pendulum, stretching his muscles. Pain pulsed through him as the manacles cut deeper into his wrists.
He inhaled and wished he could smell the fragrant grass and se
a, not his overpowering stench of sweat, urine, and raw flesh. He stared at a brass tub filled with clean water. All he had to do was say aye to Natasa and lose his soul, and he could soak in the bath.
His stomach growled, and he swallowed, barely rousing enough spit. He did not possess the power to splash any of the water onto his sweating body. The temptation to give into Natasa beat upon him. Physical torture was better than staring at the tub. God, he wanted to wash away the black magic filth so badly. He could take pain. Take whatever the bitch would wield upon him. But this mind game was far worse. He hated to admit it—Natasa was winning. He did not know how much longer he could endure. He was a simple man, not a hero.
Enough.
Help, he needed help. He closed his eyes and drew on his power. Mariah. He needed to appear in her dream. The Phoenix might never find him on this dreaded island otherwise.
Tingles crept over his skin as the magic swirled inside him. An image of Mariah appeared in his mind, and he focused all his energy onto her. The yari slowly tightened around his neck, spiking into his flesh.
“Mariah,” he choked. “Hear me. S’il vous plaît.”
“Cease.” Natasa stood in the doorway. Her deep scowl meant another encounter of agony.
A sharp pain pierced his chest, and he bit back an anguished cry. Blood seeped from a fresh deep cut under his right nipple.
“Spells equal pain, handsome.” She snapped her fingers. “Bring it in, slaves.”
He braced himself for whatever new torture the bitch had planned. A native man brought in a wooden table and a chair, followed by three native women who carried trays laden with bananas and slices of mangoes sprinkled with shredded coconut. Another plate had strips of cooked pork that taunted his senses. A large pitcher of water was set in between the plates of food. Lark licked his lips, and his stomach grumbled.
“Put the table in front of him,” Natasa said. “The bath may not tempt you, witch, but I know you’re hungry and thirsty.” She wrinkled her nose. “Your stench is rancid, and I know you grow weary of it. Food and thirst will be your undoing.”
“Merde! You are daft,” Lark said.
“All you have to do is swear your allegiance to me. You can come down off that stake and soak in the tank while these women feed you. I’ll even have one of these women care to your needs—scrub your back, wash your hair. One little word—” she stretched her arms. “—and all this is yours.”