Page 63 of Pirate

“Fuck.” He took her mouth again. “It really is different. Sex, I mean. I feel like my blood’s on fire.”

Sophia laughed. “I’ve already had two orgasms but it still feels like I’m not close enough to you. I have the oddest need to find a way to burrow myself under your skin.”

“Why do you think I love marking you so much?” He lifted her hair so he could get a look at the marks he’d left on her. “It’s like a need I hadn’t understood before to prove you’re mine even when you’re not with me.”

“We’re going to need to figure out another way for you to claim me. As you’ve already pointed out, I can’t wear turtlenecks during the summer months.”

“But you can wear my cut.”

Sophia’s mouth dropped open. “You’re serious.”

He nodded. “Deadly. I told you, you’re mine. And I meant it.”

“But… That’s not something you can take back, Pirate. I know what it means to be an ol’ lady. You can’t divorce me once you’ve claimed me.”

“Apparently I can,” he chuckled.

She swatted his chest. “You know what I mean! Being your ol’ lady’s a big deal. The forever kind of big deal. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

Pirate sat up slightly, using his elbows as leverage. “I love you. I might have only just realized it, but I’ve loved you for months. Before Hawaii and San Francisco, hell before Christmaswhen you woke us up by blastingJingle Bellsand wearing that sexy as fuck naughty Santa number, I think I loved you. You’re like a parasite that latched onto my heart and I only just realized is there.”

Sophia snorted. “Really romantic, Pirate. You basically just called me a heartworm.”

He shrugged, not the least bit apologetic. “You can be my heartworm.” When she made a face, Pirate pressed on, “You can be whatever you want to be, so long as you’remine. I want you to wear my cut, Sophia. I want it all with you. Someday, we’ll get a house together and have kids. Little pirates running around with wooden swords and eye patches.”

The tears that escaped her eyes this time were not from pleasure-pain but from undisputed happiness.

“Okay.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’ll wear your cut.”

Falling back on the mattress, Pirate pulled her back down on top of him. He claimed her mouth with heated fervor, thrilled beyond measure that she’d agreed to become his.

Aside from divorcing him, that is.

He lifted her head up so he could look into her eyes. “You’re beautiful, you know that. I don’t think I ever told you that before.” He nipped at her jawline. “But there is something I promised you we’d do that we haven’t done yet.”

“What’s that?” Sophia inquired.

Pirate’s crooked grin was full of mirth and promise as he told her, “Plunder your booty. It’s time, wench. Get the lube.”

CHAPTER 11

Knocking on the apartment door roused Sophia and Pirate that afternoon. Both were dozing off in a heap of sweaty limbs and tangled sheets, not fully awake but not fully asleep either. The comfort of being together without concern of what the other was feeling or thinking was wondrously new to them. It created a relaxing atmosphere where they could bask in the passion they’d just shared rather than rush to part ways due to expectations.

Pirate felt like an immense weight had been lifted off of his chest. Which was ironic because Sophia’s deliciously naked form was sprawled on top of him.

The knock on the front door roused them and probably would have been ignored if it wasn’t for the dogs barking at the noise.

Sophia picked up her head with a frown. “Expecting someone?”

Pirate shook his head.

Grumbling something about inconsiderate people, Sophia slithered off of him. Once she detangled herself from the bedsheets, she rose and stood beside the bed. Pirate stared openly at her nude form. Fuck, she was beautiful with her hairall mussed from sex and his marks all over her. It felt a little juvenile to call them hickeys, but that’s exactly what they were.

Putting her hands on her lean hips, Sophia scowled to her left as if she could see through his bedroom wall, into the apartment hallway, and through the front door to express her displeasure at being woken up.

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