Page 140 of The Sea Witch
“Reaching that fail-safe is imperative. This is how I can make certain you do it.”
“The hell with the fail-safe.”
“We both know its significance,” he said gently. “When you get the fail-safe, thenyouare safe. And that’s all I want. Your safety and happiness.”
“Damn you, Benjamin Priestley,” she growled. “I wish you’d never chased me through St. Gertrude.”
“I’ll chase you off the map, to where the dragons live.”
She closed her eyes. “I’ve lost so much, so many. What I want most, I fear the most.”
“A peculiar thing about fear,” he said softly. “Running away from it doesn’t take the danger away. We’re always at risk. Everyone at every moment.”
She couldn’t think of it. She wanted nothing but the certainty of his body and hers.
“Kiss me.” She threaded her fingers into his hair. “Kiss me and let’s pretend, for just a little while, that nothing and no one else exists. There’s only us. Us and the sea. And it’s enough.”
Chapter Thirty
Their lips met, and the kiss was deep and lush, tasting of honey and loss. Ben cupped her head. He consumed her as a man might savor his last drink of summer wine before a long barren winter.
As they kissed, they tugged at each other’s clothing.
“I want all of you,” he growled into her mouth. “There isn’t a part of you that I don’t want to feel.”
He would come back to her.
It was awkward and clumsy, yet in a few moments they were stripped bare. His markings were visible now. His hands stroked along her body to touch her curves and hollows and sinews and scars. No one felt like her. He gripped her arse and pulled her tightly against him.
When she gave him a shove, he willingly went, tumbling so that he half lay on her berth, his legs splayed wide as he leaned back on his elbows. She stood between his thighs. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, a flaming curtain that spilled over her rising and falling breasts. Her eyes blazed and she was everything powerful, all the stars and tides.
“Witch of flame,” he rumbled. “Pirate queen.Myqueen.”
That seemed to please her, a small-edged smile curving her lips.
“Let me serve you, my queen,” he said, his voice a rasp. “My heart is yours. My body belongs to you.”
He reached for her, but she knocked his hand away.
“If your body’s mine,” she said huskily, “then I’ll take my pleasure with it.”
“Anything,” he vowed.
He stared as she lowered to her knees. Yet there was no submission in her, only a claiming of what she wanted. Her hands stroked up his thighs, digging into the straining muscle.
Her eyes avid and commanding, she wrapped her fingers around his cock.
“Fuck.” His hips bucked up.
She held him tightly, her fist going up and down with almost punishing strength. The pleasure... He’d never known anything like it. And when she lowered her head to take him in her mouth, he swore and sweated. The sight of her swallowing him down was too much... he would lose all control... and yet he couldn’t look away. Couldn’t close his eyes. She was too beautiful, too powerful, licking and sucking him.
“So good,” he panted.
She sucked harder, her hand clasping him with the strength of a woman who lived on the sea. Low in his spine, the hot tightness of a climax gathered.
“Not yet, not yet.” With a groan, he pulled from her mouth.
She rose from her knees and climbed over him. He lay back, clasping her hips. With her hands spread on his chest, she positioned herself over his cock, lining the head up with her opening. Their gazes locked.
