Page 74 of Crossbones
I have the perfect view of the bay and the town sprawled out below.
The town Caspian founded to help people like May—
Families like mine.
I choke on my emotions, beyond happy May is alive, but trying to come to terms with having mourned the loss of her for so long. Then the surprise of having nieces and nephews—I shake my head and inhale great lungfuls of cold air, grounding myself in the reality of the salt breeze that always gives me clarity. This was a secret beyond anything I could ever have imagined. Caspian has given me something I can never hope to repay.
A gift. A beautiful, priceless gift.
I have an intense urge to see him—even though I just saw him at dinner; he’d left before dessert, saying he had a few things to take care of. Now the desire is overwhelming and I head back towards town.
Caspian said over dinner he has a townhouse nearby and with a sly twinkle in his eyes, he’d said it’s hard to miss. As I enter the streets and pass by May’s house, I see what he means. Ahead near the end of the lane is a townhouse nestled within the neighborhood that has a bronze sculpture of a fox sitting next to the gate.
My pace is hurried, impatient.
I push open the gate and in classic fashion, shove open the front door without knocking.
CASPIAN
The door slams open and James storms in, bringing with him the smell of the sea. Seeing his face I immediately hold up my hands.
“I thought you knew she was alive,” I insist as he advances on me. “When you told me you thought she was dead I—”
“Shut up,” he growls. “Just shut the fuck up.”
His voice is slightly breathless as he backs me into the wall. His hand grips my jaw, holding me in place and his lips crash into mine. I can feel him shaking as his other hand slams into the wall near my head, his hips push against me. I don’t hesitate, my hands slide up his chest, gripping the fabric of his jacket and pulling him closer. Our tongues meet, both of us fighting for dominance.
There’s nothing soft, slow or hesitant in the kiss, just pure need, raw passion. His hand slips into my hair, his fist tightening at the base of my neck and yanking me physically into a better position for his mouth to ravage mine. I can’t breathe, but I don’t want to—I don’t need to. He’s giving me life, each gasp is like coming up for air, but I’m also willing to drown in him.
Our give and take pushes us off the wall, and we careen into the table. He slides his hands down the backs of my thighs and yanks me up, slamming me down on the tabletop without breaking his mouth from mine. I tear his jacket off his shoulders, the need to touch him so strong it’s a physical ache in my chest. I groan into his mouth as the tips of my fingers trace up under his shirt, dipping into the indents of his abs and traveling up the expanse of his chest. His hands grip my thighs tightly, no doubt giving me bruises. Marks claiming me as his.
We tear apart from each other, gasping in air. James’ eyes are a little wider than usual, as though he’s once again surprised to find himself in this position with me. I can feel his heart pounding beneath my hand as it rests under his shirt. I’m sure mine is matching it furious beat for furious beat. James takes a step back and shoves both hands through his hair, drawing in a ragged breath.
“If I were a better man, I would leave you untouched by the ruin of me,” he rasps, his voice gravel in his throat. He looks like he’s torn between surrender and sacrifice—like he might walk right back out if he thinks too hard.
I hop off the table and advance on him. I plant my hands firmly on his chest and push him towards the bedroom.
“I’m not asking for a better man,” I say.
“You don’t know what that means.” His eyes glitter as they catch the candlelight and for once his scowl is gone, replaced by an infinite openness I’ve never seen before on his face.
“I know enough. I know I’ve thought about this every night ever since you pressed a knife to my throat in that cell.” We’re through the door and his legs hit the back of the bed. I don’t hesitate. I shove him backwards and as he falls onto the bed, I immediately crawl over him. “Besides, it’s too late to leave me untouched by you.” His hands go to my hips and I lower my lips to hover over his. “Your touch damned me.” I run my thumb over his bottom lip. “Your kiss ruined me and if I’m to be lost—it’ll be in the darkness with you.”
There’s violence in his eyes, but it’s urgent and smoldering and honest—all of him, all in—for whatever this is. He’s not freaking out and I’m done running.
“You’re what I want, James,” I whisper, driving the point home.
His hands take my face, a spark of that reckless fire blazing a trail through my blood and I watch the doubt harden into resolve.
“Then I’ll be your storm,” He growls, his grip is demanding, the brush of his lips is anything but. “And you my ocean tide.”
Our kiss turns frenzied as we both work off each other's clothes at once. Fabric rips, boots thud, all while trying not to break the connection. I’m burning up as I settle back on top of him, my teeth catching his lip. I suck on it until I hear the breathy groan brush my face. I reach down and grasp his length with mine, jerking us both and watching his face. His hands are all over me, stopping on my hips where they dig in so hard it’s painful.
I drag our combined precum over our heads, and use it to slick our cocks as I run my hands up and down both our lengths. The rumble he’s making is a sound I’ll take to my grave, especially as it develops into a curse and he closes his eyes.
I kiss down his jaw, his beard brushing against my skin as I make it to hisneck, where I bite down. He hisses and surges up, quickly flipping us until I’m underneath him. He drives his hips forward, shoving himself against me. I continue to work us, driving us both into a panting mess. I see his jaw clench in his attempt to hold back.
I smirk and his eyes glint dangerously before he dips his head back down and ruthlessly captures my lips in his. His tongue sweeps against mine and my hand falters. His hand helps find the pace again before sliding lower, brushing over my ass.
