Page 41 of My Gentleman Spy
“Will,” she said, the words a plea for him to release her from thetorture.
He withdrew his fingers and her body welcomed his manhood once more. With hands gripped tightly on to her hips, he took her from behind. The position allowed a deeper penetration than before, the sound of their skin slapping against one another echoed in the quiet of thecabin.
“I want you to come a second time. I won't finish until you do,” he murmured in herear.
Even if she had been capable, Hattie could not refuse him. Will increased the tempo of his strokes, he knew exactly how to ratchet up the urgent need withinher.
On and on he plundered her body until she fractured in a sobbing desperatecry.
How long after that moment it took Will to come, she wasn't certain. She was no longer in control of her body. He possessed hercompletely.
Her whole existence consisted of the sound of his groans and the deep pounding of his cock inside her still throbbingpassage.
Her only thought when he did finally come was to be grateful that the crews' quarters were on the other side of the ship. His roar would have done a lionproud.
They slumped in a heated pile onto the bed, arms and legsentangled.
* * *
Will woke several hours later.He and Hattie were still tangled together. Sometime in the night, he had managed to throw some blankets over their naked bodies. Hattie was warm. Her soft breathing told him she was lightlysleeping.
He leaned over and placed a tender kiss at the base of her neck. Shestirred.
“Hello you,” hemurmured.
Hattie rolled over and sat up. The blankets fell, revealing her breasts. His gaze was drawn to their rose peaks. In the chill air, they quickly became hard little buds. Will felt his cock twitch. He wanted heragain.
He pulled her to him and kissed her. She responded naturally to him, returning his kiss in equal tenderness andhunger.
When they eventually broke the kiss, he saw the signs of slight swelling on her bottom lip. In the heat of their passionate love making earlier, he had bitten herlip.
Don’t be arogue.
They had made love already this night, only a selfish man would ask it of an inexperienced woman to take him inside her once more so quickly. He would wait for Hattie to come to him when she desired his body once again. He lifted the blanket again and wrapped it aroundher.
“You don’t want to get a chill mylove.”
Hattie reached out and touched his chest. Her fingers brushed across the fine black hair on his uppertorso.
“What are those?” sheasked.
He knew the question about his tattoos would eventually come. Tattoos were not something young unwed women were likely to have seen or even known about. Yet they were common among men of the upper social class inEngland.
In France, only the wickedly daring or those living outside the law were tempted to mark their bodies with ink. Yvette had been outraged when Will showed her the tattoo on his right shoulder, thinking somehow, she had been tricked into marrying acriminal.
The tattoo on his right shoulder was of a rearing horse with a crown overhead, standing over a cluster of three four-pointed stars. He watched Hattie’s fingers as she traced the outline of the tattoo'smarkings.
“The Strathmore coat of arms. I got it in memory of my grandfather on my mother’s side. I would have got one for my father’s family, but being French my father threatened to disown me if I dared to put his family coat of arms in ink on my body,” hesaid.
She touched the small black rose tattoo on his othershoulder.
“And this one?” shesaid.
Will cleared his throat. He had not mentioned his marital status until now, allowing Hattie to assume he had never been married. Informing people that he was a widower, tended to lead to awkward conversations. With Hattie, it was something he could no longerhide.
“This is for my wife. Yvette. Shedied.”
Hattie withdrew her hand. She went to move away, but Will stopped her. Yvette was part of who he was, and Hattie needed tounderstand.
