STORY EXCERPT

Jamie locked the door behind them and shoved the girl gently onto the bed, gentle, but still a shove. “Now, my dear. How about you show me just what you’re offering?”

His would-be captive struggled to sit back up amidst a heap of expensive silk, one part her dress and the other a rather lavish red bedspread for the captain’s comfort. Funny such an old coot would sleep under red silk.

Her curls obscured her lovely eyes for a moment, and she batted them out of the way and shot a nervous look at the porthole.

“What? Shy, my lady, after that impressive demonstration of verve out on the deck?”

She sat up straight, tugging her modest bodice into place, and then, almost as if she’d forgotten herself, let it alone. No matter. His eyes were glued to the spot anyway. She really was a luscious piece. Time to see if she meant what she said.

“Come on, my sweet. Let’s get better acquainted.”

“Here?”

Jamie chuckled, half disappointed. The girl didn’t seem the least bit wanton now that he’d called her on it. Perhaps she just wanted to delay her impending marriage to an old man. Risky strategy, though, offering herself up to a pirate. He chided softly, “I thought you were eager to take your pleasure.”

Again, she glanced anxiously toward the porthole. “Well, not with everyone out there knowing what we’re doing in here.”

He approached her, leaned over, and placed his palms on the red silk spread, so she was caged in between his arms. “Show me you know what you’re doing, girl, or tell me why you’re playing this outrageous game.”

“Well, I didn’t say I was a doxy,” she had the nerve to mutter.

“I rather like doxies. I’m willing to branch out into outrageously beautiful members of the upper class now and then, though.” He ran his lips along her soft cheek. She was trembling. “Only if they know the game of course.” Her little chin was sharp, and he nibbled on it for a second before making his way to her lips. He was hard as a poker just from this innocent foreplay, which boded well for if he ever got her into his bed. On the other hand, it would be sheer torture to have her close at hand and not be able to bed her. So he would know before he brought her aboard which it would be and save himself the trouble if it were the latter.

He kissed her lightly, murmuring approvingly, “You taste delicious.”

“Wouldn’t this be more comfortable on your ship, Captain Banion?”

“Jamie,” he urged, settling down beside her on the bed.

“Jamie.”

“You’re forgetting why I decided not to take you in the first place.” His mouth drifted close to her perfect shell-shaped ear, and he gently blew in it. “I don’t fancy months of a swollen cock while I try to keep my hands off you.”

He had used the word deliberately and tellingly, she flinched at it. Just as he thought, more was the pity.

“I said I’d lay with you, didn’t I?”

“I don’t fancy martyrs in my bed either. With the stiff set of those lovely shoulders just with me this close, I’d say you exaggerated your experience a touch to overcome my gentlemanly sensibilities. You don’t exactly look like you know how to satisfy a man in bed.”

“I can satisfy a man!” she cried indignantly.

Actually, he bet she could. He was a hair’s breadth away from being satisfied just by sitting next to her on a bed. Problem was, she didn’t know it. Sadly, he couldn’t be the one to teach it to her under these circumstances. It was against his rules to debauch an innocent. Not that he couldn’t have a bit of fun with her now, though. Just a bit.   He considered it a small recompense for having to leave her untouched.

He cupped her neck and pulled her to him, kissing her with more vigor this time. When his tongue traced her lips, she didn’t open them in response. He’d never dallied with a woman who didn’t know a man would want to put his tongue in her mouth as a prelude to sex, but he suspected this was what it was like. She even pushed her still-firmly-shut lips against his harder in what he supposed was a more enthusiastic show of passion in her mind.

He pulled away a fraction. “Open your mouth, sweeting.”

She complied, although from the confused look on that adorable face, she was probably doing so to ask a question. He used the opportunity anyway and quickly pressed his lips to hers again, thrusting his tongue in her mouth, eliciting a low sound, somewhere between a squeal and a groan from his little pupil. He gave it his considerable attention, and after a few moments, she kissed him back in a fresh untutored way that entranced him. Pushing her down on the bed as they kissed, he came over her to hook one leg between her silk-encased legs beneath her skirt, and she broke away faster than he could stop her, scooting back on the bed.

“No. Wait!” she cried, breathless. “I’d expect more than a quick—ah—poke for all my trouble, not to mention my papa’s ransom money.”

Yes, he very much would like to poke her, but her less than convincing performance didn’t bode well for that. The nervous way she eyed him still left the question as to why this whole charade to begin with. He sidled up the bed after her, leaning on his elbow.

“You’re right. We shouldn’t rush this.”

The concession seemed to relax her, and she reached one delicate hand up to touch a lock of his hair and leaned towards him. He could feel her sweet breath on his neck as she whispered in his ear. “Can we go back to your ship then?” Her soft lips were suddenly on his neck. His cock, already aching, roared into dangerous enthusiasm at the idea that maybe those lips belonged somewhere a little farther south where they could do some more good. The thought was tempting, but he doubted even the most adventurous of young wantons of her class had any experience with that.

ADULT EXCERPT

“What is it, sweet?” The murmured inquiry as he lifted his mouth from the delightful torture he had been inflicting on her nipple with his tongue was nothing like the accusations of a few minutes ago. He was sharp, this Jamie Banion, when it came to women anyway. He had evidently felt her freeze, so in tune to her, he was, but he no longer seemed to think her in danger of backing out on him. She knew her body told him otherwise, that already she was his.

“Tell me what you like,” he coaxed as he massaged her breast.

What she liked? What didn’t she like?

She hummed a noncommittal response, and he returned to kissing her softly, persuasively, as all thought went out of her head.

“So sweet,” he whispered. “I’d like to wait, to woo you as I should, but I can’t. Not this time.” She heard him almost as though in a trance. “You’ll have to forgive my impatience this time, my lady. I promise to make it up to you.”

When he got up to remove his breeches, her brain started functioning again. She couldn’t. How could she? It was one thing to indulge with an acquaintance in London, and perhaps when this was all over, she would. It was quite another, however, to be so calculating as to lay with a man when all the while you were setting him up to be turned over to a certain death. Even if the law said he deserved it.

She just wasn’t that cold-blooded. She couldn’t let this man into her—her heart, she supposed, or in any case, into her body and then do that. That would make her a—well, better not to think of what that would make her.

Right then he cast off his breeches, and she saw his man thing. My goodness, it had felt large in her hand, much larger than Roger’s had ever seemed just from the feel of him inside her, but she had not realized Banion’s was so monstrously big. It stood upright at attention.  She stared at it, horrified.

He hesitated at her look. “Surely you’ve seen one before.”

“Not like that,” she muttered honestly. “It’s so…big. I don’t think this will work.”

He laughed at her words and came down to lie beside her on the bed, pulling up her skirt, and easing her drawers off in one smooth quick move. Then he slid one hard, muscled leg between hers. She gasped at how right the move felt. “It’ll work, Evie.”

“Evie? No one has ever called me that.”

“No? Well, it’ll be just for me then.” His hand was between her thighs now, light, gentle, questing, and without meaning to, she opened them further to let him in. “You’re very wet already. Tight,” he whispered, “but wet.”

His mouth came down on hers as he explored with his finger, moving some magical way, and she cried out as an unfamiliar pang of pleasure washed over her. She strained against his hand as he kissed her. “Yes, just like that, Evie. Show me how much you like what I’m doing.”

She groaned and knew she was physically incapable of depriving herself of this pleasure, come what may. He swiftly yanked the remainder of her dress off, so she was as naked as he, and climbed on top of her supine form, spreading her legs even wider as he did so.

* * * *

Jamie watched Evelyn’s face, her eyelashes dark against her pale cheeks, and he could wait no longer. He slid into her, feeling her inner muscles grip him. With relief, he felt himself go in to the hilt without encountering any maidenly barrier. She had told the truth, then, that much of it anyway.

She was so tight against him, though, that it was clear whoever had preceded him to this shrine must have had a tool no wider than a quill. She might as well have been a virgin, feeling not the least bit broken in. Guiltily, he reveled in it, even as he kept himself still to allow her to adjust. Lord, she felt wonderful, tight and warm and wet. He looked down at her and whispered, “How do you fare, my sweet?”

She opened her eyes, dark, and heavy lidded and groaned. “I feel so deliciously full.”

He needed no further invitation, and he moved, slowly at first and then harder, pounding to some rhythm she inspired with just a lift of her hips, a feather of a touch against his lower back. He felt frenzied—barely able to hold off for her to come, just barely.