Page 49 of Pirate's Intent
She wasn’t pulling at her bindings anymore, and he found that he wanted her to. Fighting. Writhing. At his mercy. Struggling between the need to escape and the need to stay.
“I think, as you requested, that will be one of your special words this time.” He went to the trunk. “You remember our special words, do you not, tease?” He pulled out one of the many scrolls. “More specifically, the one about sin?”
“You saved them too?” she whispered, clearly relieved that something more threatening wasn’t in there yet emotional that he cared enough.
How could he not? They were from her.
Rather than answer her, he unrolled one, and read aloud.
Luke,
Never ‘Dear Luke’ or ‘My Dearest’ or even ‘Friend’ but simply his name.
I was sitting in our spot today, wondering if you recalled what I said to you the day we found this place. What you said we might use it for. The excitement I felt. More so, the rules you introduced. Do you remember? I say a word, and you stop. I say another word, and you continue. I thought that particularly clever of you.
He could almost see her squirming with need as she wrote this outside the small building they had found. As she penned it in the safety of her homeland and grew bold indeed.
Now that we are no more and this but a fantasy, you should know you could have pushed me further. You could have been more daring. We were out in the middle of nowhere. Nobody would have heard me. You could have roped me off to rings and taken me without mercy. Perhaps ‘tease’ as you were so fond of calling me, would have stopped you, and ‘sin’ would have allowed you to continue. Or perhaps you decided to ignore the rules altogether...
“So what say you, my dear?” Luke arched a brow at her. “Is it ‘tease’ or ‘sin’?” He tossed aside the scroll and made sure she heard the threat in his voice. “Or should I, as you speculated, ignore the rules altogether?”
ChapterNine
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“YOU WOULD NOT DARE,” she gasped, far more aroused by the predatory look in Luke’s eyes than she let on. “Rules are important...our rules, especially.”
She was still caught off guard that he had saved all her letters. More pointedly that like hers, they were worn as he too had obviously read them often.
“Rules are important,” he agreed. He pulled off his boots and yanked off his shirt. “So imagine my surprise when you wrote such.”
“Bloodyhell,” she cursed before she could bite her tongue. He had been fit in his youth, but not like he was now. Muscles rippled everywhere. Along his strong arms. Across his broad chest. A series of mouth-watering ridges down his abdomen. She could see his muscular thighs easily enough because of his soaked breeches. He was harder than ever, his cock straining against the material.
Near painful pleasure blossomed between her thighs, and she licked her lips, eager to taste him on her tongue again. She trailed her eyes back up his body. He was richly tanned and had tattoos now. One, in particular, stood out. One singular bold word etched into his skin for all time.
Tease.
“That’s me...” she whispered.
“No,” he said softly. “That is but a word that will keep you safe.” He shrugged a nonchalant shoulder. “If we follow the rules, that is.” He pulled a dagger from his waistband and trailed his fingers up her thigh. “And I am not sure after beingteasedby letters like that for so long that you deserve such respect.”
“Surely you recall that was just our way,” she countered, reaching for anything. “I taunted, you tried to take, I teased, and you took, back and forth. We followed our whim. Wherever our fancy took us.”
“Our fancy?” he murmured. “Our fancy nearly took us to the alter if I recall.”
She could tell by his darkening gaze and the haphazard way he had said it in the brothel and now here that he’d by no means pushed past her rejection. She should never have said yes to begin with, but he was him, and it seemed like the most natural thing to say at the time. While tempted to tell him she did it for his own good, she held back. It was too hard to speak of. To remember. To live through again.
“Did your husband meet your fancy then,” he murmured, cutting her dress from the collar to the end of the sleeve with one swift slice. “Did he control you well?” He sliced the other sleeve, his eyes drifting to hers. “Did he make you scream with pleasure until you were hoarse?”
“It was an arranged marriage,” she reminded. “He was more than twice my age, and you know it.” Her husband rarely lay with her. When he did, it was drab and mercifully quick. Outside of the bedroom, he never spoke to her or glanced her way. Then one day, his heart gave out, and he was gone, having never sown his seed. “His only desire was to fill me with child, but alas, it never happened.”
“Do you still want one?” Luke said softly. His eyes were unreadable as they stayed with hers. “Do you still long for a child you could raise differently than your uncle raised you?”
It stopped mattering the moment you left.But of course, she did not say that.
“Do you?” she murmured. “Because I believe you rather liked the idea of having one without such an oppressive father.”
“I haven’t given it much thought over the years.” He gestured at the cabin. “But then my lifestyle is not exactly conducive to it.”
