Page 80 of The Pirate Lord
“What is it?” she whispered as he held her from him.
“I don’t want to take you like a rutting pig.” Kneeling down on the thin mattress, he took her hand and tugged her close until she was standing a few inches from him. “I want you to remember this forever.”
“What do you mean?” Her eyes went wide as his fingers parted the thick, damp curls between her legs. Trembling, she clutched at his shoulders and looked at him warily. “What are you—” She broke off when he kissed her between the legs, right on the soft folds of skin he’d bared. A prolonged sigh slid from her lips. “Oh-h-h, Gideon . . .Gideon. . .”
He caressed her slow and deep at first, exploring every part of her with his tongue and lips and teeth. When he felt her fingers clasp his head, urging him against her, he pleasured her with everything he possessed, until he thought he would burst with the need to bury something other than his tongue inside her.
She was hot and wet, and the musky taste of her drove him wild. His hands gripped her thighs harder the longer he went on. He wanted to be inside her so badly, but he wanted something else more . . . to bind her to him, to make her never regret choosing him. So he went on and on and on until he felt her jerk beneath his mouth and heard her utter a darling cry of release.
Only then did he tumble her down on the bed and enter her, his muscles straining as he drove himself deep inside her. He wanted to strike to the very heart of her so she could never leave him. She would be his forever. He would see to that.
She arched against him, throwing her head back and grabbing at his arms to anchor him to her. God, she felt tight and warm and so, so good. They fell into a wild, sensuous rhythm together. His blood pounded and he was near to exploding already, but he held back until she convulsed around him. Then he lost all sense of where he was, spilling himself inside her with a guttural moan of pure satisfaction.
He didn’t know how long he lay there atop her, inside her. It must’ve been only a few seconds, but it felt like hours of drifting slowly to earth with her body locked to his, of hearing her quick, shallow breaths and feeling her sweat-slick skin undulate beneath his.
When he could manage it, he slid off to lie on his side facing her. She curled against him like a furling sail after the storm is spent, her arm folded against his chest and her legs intertwined with his. Tucking one hand under her head, she traced the whorls of hair around his flat nipples with the other.
His glance fell to the silver locket she always wore around her neck, and a sudden curiosity to know everything about her assailed him. He tapped it with his finger. “Such a pretty locket. Who gave it to you?”
“My mother.” A shy smile touched her lips. “It contains a lock of her hair. I know it probably seems silly to carry such a thing, but?—”
“Not at all. You and your mother must have been very close for you to wear it all the time as you do.” He envied her that, though the ache of his own mother’s betrayal seemed to have lessened suddenly.
“I miss her a great deal. I could always rely on Mama to listen to whatever I said and give me sound advice.”
He stared past her at the rudimentary bedchamber they lay in, and suddenly wished it were somehow grander, better. “What would your mother have thought of this . . . of us?”
Sara dragged a finger down his chest. “Believe it or not, I think she would have approved. Mama had a very open heart, and she was a good judge of men. When I was infatuated with Colonel Taylor, she told me from the beginning he wasn’t right for me. But I think she would like you.”
Pleasure at her last words warred with a violent jealousy. Sara had been infatuated with someone other than him? Tightening his arm possessively about her, he asked, “Who was Colonel Taylor?”
She ducked her head, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “A man I nearly ran away with. My family didn’t approve of him.”
“Because he wasn’t a duke or something, I suppose.”
“No. Because they could tell he was a fortune-hunter. Jordan had researched his background and discovered he hadn’t a penny to his name. After he told my stepfather about it, my stepfather threatened to cut my portion off entirely if I didn’t break with the man.”
Gideon stiffened, thinking of his father. “Just because the man had no money doesn’t mean he wasn’t in love with you.”
“That’s what I thought, too,” she surprised him by saying. “So, I went to Colonel Taylor and offered to run away with him. I told him it didn’t matter to me if I were disinherited.” Her voice grew strained. “Apparently, it mattered quite a bit tohim. He made it quite clear he didn’t have the funds to keep up a wife who could not, as he put it, ‘bring anything but her fair face to the marriage.’”
Gideon heard the pain in her voice and wished with an astonishing fervency that he could find Colonel Taylor and teachhim a lesson or two with a cat o’ nine tails. “The man was obviously an idiot to pass up the chance to have you. Thank God your stepbrother found out the man’s true character before it was too late.”
She went very still in his arms. “Yes, thank God.” After a moment, she added in a small voice, “Gideon, what if . . . my brother should happen to come here? I told you before, he’s not going to rest until he finds me.”
An unreasoning alarm gripped him before he dismissed it, telling himself there was nothing to worry about. “He’ll never find Atlantis without a guide. Even the Cape Verdeans don’t know about this place.”
“But if he did,” she persisted. “What would you do?”
He stared into her solemn eyes. “I wouldn’t let him take you from me, if that’s what you mean. I’d fight any man who tried to take you away.” Some of his earlier distrust reared its ugly head, and despite himself, he added bitterly, “Or are you perhaps hoping for that, hoping that the earl will rescue you?”
“No, of course not!” Guilt flashed in her eyes briefly, but it was gone so fast, he wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it. She cupped his cheek, caressing the skin with her light touch. “When I said I wanted to marry you, I meant it. But I do miss my brother. I-I would like to let him know I’m all right.”
Those few words drove a stake into his heart. He released her, rolling away to lay on his back. “Yes, you English noblewomen do seem to have a great attachment for family.”
“Stop that, Gideon.” She moved over and laid her head on his chest. “Stop comparing me to your mother. I’m not going to leave you, not if I can help it. All I’m saying is that it wouldn’t hurt for me to send a letter to my brother, putting his mind at ease and telling him I’m happily married to?—
“A pirate? That should make him very happy.”
