Page 20 of The Black Lion
Arabella wailed, her legs snapping around his hips on instinct, but it was far too late to stop the progress of the iron-hard organ ripping its way through her. He went still, lowering his head and sucking in deep breaths as if to compose himself. She could feel the rush of blood in his cock, the pulsing veins throbbing in time with the painful spasms undulating through her insides. He wrenched her thighs open and drove deeper with a muttered oath, giving her the rest of him, lodging himself so deep he felt like some irremovable part of her now. His hands pressed harder against her thighs, the joints of her hips twinging from the deep, forceful stretch, her sheath throbbing and grasping at him.
He gasped with something like shock mixed with wonder, the corded tendons of his neck stretching taut as he held himself over her, arms trembling. He withdrew and then plunged, the heated drag of his cock against her inner walls burning like nothing she’d ever felt. She bit her lip until she drew blood to contain a scream, but Drew was in another place entirely. Sweat broke out along his brow as he did it again, then again, rotating his hips and surging even deeper into her. The press of his groin agitated her clit, adding a swell of pleasure to his thrusts, leaving her suspended between ecstasy and agony.
“Fucking Christ,” he groaned. “Bella …”
She whimpered, her body jolted with every hard thrust of him inside her. The lion tattooed onto his chest undulated with every movement, the beast seeming to come alive as he fucked her in a mindless fit. He palmed her buttocks again, raising her up against him and grinding into her, as if trying to burrow even deeper. The little nub of her pleasure pounded and pulsed, her cunt easing to let him in. The burning torment of his invasion tangled with the pleasure until she couldn’t tell one from the other—couldn’t determine whether her wanton moans were those of delight or those of agony. It didn’t matter. He was inside her, taking her, claiming her. He was hers now, in a way he never had been before. Arabella reveled in his ruthless domination, surrendered to the clench of the cord lashing her to the headboard, to his hands holding her at the angle he wanted, to his cock stroking her toward a stunning climax even in the midst of the pain.
“Drew!” she cried, her insides erupting into a maelstrom of impending release. “Oh, God, Drew!”
“Yes, Bella,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “Say my name … let me hear how much you love the feel of my cock inside you … let them all hear.”
She faintly recalled the open windows and the proximity of the crew above them, but couldn’t find it within herself to care. She wasn’t a proper lady in here.
She was woman, he was man, and in the throes of such powerful, primal lust, there was nothing to do but surrender to her baser nature.
“Drew … Drew … Drew,” she chanted with every thrust of his cock, every spasm of climax building on top of the last.
She unraveled beneath him, so lost in the haze of her own completion she didn’t realize his was upon him, too, until one of his hands came crashing against the headboard. He roared his release, gripping tight to the golden figurehead of the lion as his cock twitched and pulsed within her, flooding her insides with the hot rush of his seed.
He fell on top of her in a boneless heap, though he did manage to reach up and untie her hands. She groaned as the blood began rushing into her limbs, letting them drift back down to her sides as he curled himself around her, and gathered her in his arms. Still buried deep within her, he nuzzled her neck and shoulder, his rough beard abrading the tender skin.
Arabella returned the affection, turning her head to seek out his lips. He kissed her with as much ferocity as ever, his cock leaping within her as if trying to surge back to life. As she surrendered to his consuming lips and plundering tongue, she felt the slide of his hand along her arm, toward the tightly closed fist holding fast to his talisman. Prying her fingers apart, he laid his palm against hers, the unyielding hardness of the talisman held tight between them.
Chapter Six
Arabella came awake, uncertain of the time. Hours must have passed, as the red-orange hues of sunset radiated through the cabin windows. Finding the bed beside her empty, she sat upright and stretched. Blinking against the flash of orange light as the setting sun glinted off the glassy surface of the sea, she found Drew on the other side of the room. Her lips parted on a breathless sigh at the sight of him, stripped nude before the washstand. Water glinted off his skin, even the bared parts of him darkened to deep bronze. She flushed to see him naked in the open, letting the sun kiss every glorious inch of him.
She bit her lip as she studied his long legs and taught, firm buttocks, the ropes of muscles stretching and rolling with each motion of his arms. The waning sunlight streaming through the cabin windows brought the golden strands mingled with his dark hair to life, making him look more like a lion than ever.
Arabella frowned as she studied his broad back, his hair doing little to hide the cruel brutality painted across his skin. Long, raised scars traversed the expanse of his shoulders and upper back, angry and prominent. Her gut twisted at the evidence that someone had taken a whip to him.
“Drew,” she whispered, unable to keep the awe and sadness out of her voice. He looked as if he’d been ravaged half to death. There were more scars—knife wounds on his legs and arms, and a puckered, circular scar she assumed might be a bullet wound in his side.
He turned to face her while using a linen scrap to wipe the remnants of water and soap from his freshly-shaved face. Tossing it aside, he reached for a pair of breeches hanging over a painted screen and pulled them on.
“Finally awake, I see. Good. We have a visitor.”
She followed the trajectory of Drew’s gaze and found Will bound hand and foot to a chair on the far side of the cabin. A gag split his lips, though he made no sound as he stared back at her, his gaze tracing a path over her disheveled hair and exasperated face, then lower. Arabella’s cheeks heated as she realized she was still naked and the bedclothes had fallen to her waist. Swiftly jerking them up over her exposed breasts, she looked back to Drew.
“What on Earth is going on?”
Wearing his boots but still bare-chested, Drew approached, thrusting a clean white shirt at her. “Put this on. Now that you’re awake, there are matters that must be addressed.”
Arabella did her best to put the shirt on while avoiding exposing herself to the two men. It didn’t matter that Drew had just fucked her, or that he’d seen every inch of her body countless times. She didn’t feel very charitable toward him just now.
What game was he playing?
Climbing from the bed, she winced at the twinge between her thighs. The aftereffects of Drew’s rough claiming were still making themselves apparent. Biting her lip, she carefully made her way to the foot of the bed, one hand grasping a wooden post as she watched Drew approach Will.
As he bent over her former fiancé to pry the gag from his mouth, Arabella looked on in strained silence, heart knocking against her ribs. Drew had become so unpredictable, and his anger hadn’t abated—that much was clear from the hard set of his jaw and the grim slash of his mouth.
“Drew,” Will grumbled with a black scowl. “This is ridiculous. You have quite made your point—”
“Have I?” Drew murmured, arms crossed over his bare chest. “But there is still so much to settle between the three of us. After all, you were the one who told me you had anticipated your wedding night with Bella. What was it you said? Oh, yes … you ‘gave her every inch of your cock, and she begged for more.’ Did I remember that correctly?”
A sound of outrage tore from Arabella’s throat, and Will squirmed under the heated glare she leveled at him.
“He’s lying, Bella. I would never—”
