Her breath escaped her.
He stepped into their small clearing, tossed his shirt onto his bag. Broad hands went to lean hips. Claire was glad to see the bleeding at his temple had stopped.
“I wasn't sure how much time you wanted.” His eyes traveled her face before locking on to hers. “I can leave if you need more.”
“I'd rather you stay, if you don't mind my company.”
He gave a quick nod. “I left the chests. It didn't feel right to open them without you.”
Claire shook her head.
“All right. Well ...” His hands tangled in his hair, found their way back to his hips, then finally fell at his sides. He sighed.
Claire smiled despite the knots that tightened her belly. For a big man, he looked adorable when he was ill at ease.
“I'm sorry,” he continued. “I don't know what to say. I feel anything I can manage will be lacking.”
That he cared enough to worry about her feelings helped Claire move toward him.
“I'd rather we didn't talk at all.”
His brows arched as she closed her arms around his back, then tilted her head up.
“Would you kiss me?”
He took a lung full of air, which pressed her breasts more firmly against his chest. His eyes turned turbulent.
“You know I want you, have always wanted you. But not like this ...”
“I need you to hold me. I need you to help me feel something other than the loss that's weighing on me. Can you do that?”
Hell.
Nate had managed, in his years of pirating as Sam Steele, to avoid the noose. He'd never heard the rope snap taut, had never seen the last moments of struggle as man, or woman, fought the inevitable.
But at the moment, with Claire watching him, her eyes as clear as the sea, with her rising onto her toes so that he felt the heat of her breath on his chest, he imagined he knew very well just how that rope would feel going over his head and slowly closing around his throat.
Hell.
What kind of man would he be if he took advantage of her grief? He should be consoling her, fussing over her. Not, he thought with chagrin as his loins tightened, thinking of how well she fit against him.
She didn't wait for him to answer; rather she slid those clever hands up his back and dug them deep into his hair. She urged his head lower, though truth be told, there wasn't a lot of urging necessary. She may have been slight, but he felt every curve of her. Her smell wasn't a specific scent he could name, yet it had lingered in his mind for eight years.
His blood simmered. Her lips touched his and it was akin to setting flame to dry tinder. The fire roared in his ears and he had one last thought before it consumed him.
Lord help them both.
Fifteen
As a girl, Claire had been shy, sweet, and a little timid. The woman in his arms, the one that opened her hot and wet mouth under his, was anything but uncertain.
Thank God.
Her hands tangled in his hair, she pressed her body tight against his, and his arousal nestled perfectly in her softness. He tightened his grip and slanted his mouth more fully over hers. Her sigh whispered across his lips and charmed him down to his soul.
“Claire,” he breathed. Then he slipped his tongue inside her mouth.
There was no comparing her taste as there was nothing in this world that could match the flavor of Claire. She was innocence, passion, and sweetness combined. Nate couldn't get enough of her. He swept his tongue around her mouth, learning every texture, every secret corner that had a little mewing noise coming from her throat. He loved that sound and he made a point of drawing it out of her several times before he had to take a breath.
“Claire,” he moaned. He buried his face in her neck, felt her curls tickle his face.
Her hands hadn't left his hair and they threaded through his locks. It felt fine, but it wasn't where he wanted her hands. Lower would be good. Lower would be very good.
“I'm not sure what to do next,” she said, as though she knew his thoughts.
Nate drew back, looked at her flushed face, the eyes wide with uncertainty.
“You were married.”
Her color deepened and she lowered her hands, looked aside.
“Did you never . . . ?”
She shook her head. “But it wasn't like this. It wasn'tâ”
“Wasn't what?” he asked, gripping her chin and forcing her to look at him. “It wasn't what?”
Her eyes narrowed and he hated the bitterness he saw creep within their depths.
“It was fast, and it was meaningless. Is that what you wanted to know?”
Hell, yes
, he thought as his muscles eased. That was exactly what he wanted to know.
“There have been no others?”
Tears filled her eyes. “No.”
“Ah, Claire,” he whispered. He pulled her into his arms but she wasn't compliant any longer. She was stiff and her lips no longer responded to his.
Hell if he was going to let her get away with it. Her husband may have been a selfish bastard but Nate wasn't. Though he knew it was wrong to feel glad about that, he couldn't help feeling a little smug. Claire may not have been loved the way a woman deserves, but by God, by the time they were through, she was going to know what it was to come apart in a man's arms. His arms.
He wasn't her first, and he couldn't help being bitter about that, but he intended to leave a lasting impression. And a damn sight better one than she'd had thus far.
“You can do better than that,” he growled. He licked at her mouth, pressed against the seam until her lips parted. He swept in and plundered. He was relentless in his quest and probed and teased until she once again came alive beneath him. When her hands clutched at his shoulders, when her mouth was as hungry as his, he knew the sweetest victory.
“That's better,” he said. Then he bent down and swept her into his arms.
Claire didn't know what to do. She'd only coupled with her husband a handful of times, and each time it had been dark, it had been fast, and it had been something that always left her feeling dirty.
But when Nate set her down on their bed of boughs, when he balanced on his elbow to look down on her, she didn't feel dirty. Even though she was dressed as a man, the hunger in his gaze, the gentleness in his touch as he caressed her cheek, made her feel pretty.
“I've waited a long time for this,” he said.
“I'm sorry,” she answered, holding his hand close. “I should have waited for you.”
He pressed a finger over her lips, silencing her. “There are no regrets allowed in our camp tonight. There's only you”âhe leaned down and kissed her foreheadâ“me”âhe ran his tongue across her bottom lipâ“and this”âhe moved lower into her neck, licked at her ear. He closed his teeth around the lobe, drew it into his mouth.
A hot spear of desire shot to her center, and for the first time in Claire's life, she felt the slick moisture of it between her legs.
“Show me,” she whimpered when his hand closed around her waist. “Show me what you want.”
His eyes were a green storm when they met hers. “I want you, Claire. All of you, and I don't want there to be room in your head for anyone but me.”
“There never was.”
His smile was feral. His kiss possessive. His hands, suddenly, were everywhere. They snaked from her waist, up her ribs, to her shoulders. He shifted his body fully over hers, pressed his hips hard against where he most wanted to be. There was no doubt of his desire, no doubt of his need.
But he didn't shove down her pants the way she expected him to. He didn't grope clumsily for her breasts. Instead, he seemed content to rock against her as his mouth continued to mate with hers. Tension built in her belly. She felt restless, achy.
Nate's breath was hot on her neck. His hands tugged her shirt from her pants, found her undershirt, and pulled it free. There was no room for doubt or second thoughts. There was only Nate and his fingers crawling over her belly. Claire sucked in her breath. Her nipples drew taut.
“I need to see you.”
He sat up, drew both garments over her head. The sun was warm on her skin but her skin pebbled with gooseflesh. She tried to cross her arms over her chest. She wasn't buxom, and if she herself regretted that fact, wouldn't Nate also find her lacking?
His soft “Don't” stilled the movement.
He had large hands, but they were gentle when he slid them the rest of the way up and cupped her breasts. There was no way she could fill those hands, and she closed her eyes, wishing it could be different.
“Look at me.”
His eyes were intent. His hands kneaded her flesh. “Look at me when I love you.”
His raspy tone sent trembles skittering along her spine. When his eyes lowered sleepily and his mouth softened, when his fingers plucked her nipples and drew them into aching peaks, she could do no less.
Claire gasped at the flood of sensations that rippled from her breasts. She'd never had them toyed with, never realized so much pleasure could come from them.
There was a sense of loss when his hands moved, but when she felt his breath brush her heated skin, her nipples drew even tighter. Then he opened his mouth, drew her in, and suckled.
Claire's back arched. Her hands dug into his shoulders as his mouth moved from one breast to the other and the sensitivity became nearly too much to bear.
“Enough, I can'tâ”
“This is only the beginning,” he promised with a wicked gleam in his eye.
Then suddenly he was tugging her pants down and off and Claire lay naked, open to his hungry gaze.
“Dear God,” he sighed, ending any thoughts she had to cover herself. How could she when he looked at her with such reverence?
He came to his knees, took hold of her ankle. Lips barely touching her skin, he made his way up her leg with his mouth. His tongue laved the tender area behind her knee before continuing upward. Sensing what was coming, Claire tried to close her legs. He stopped her easily with the flats of his hands. Then he spread her wide.
“I wonder, Claire, if you taste as sweet as you look.”
Before Claire could beg for him to stop, his mouth closed over her core and his tongue slipped inside her body. Her hips rocked up, thrusting his tongue deeper. She felt his hands on her buttocks, holding her in place. She gasped. His tongue was exquisite. It licked, tasted, and stroked until Claire felt the promise of something she'd never known.
Her blood hammered. Her breathing was labored. Her hips, with a mind of their own, rocked against his mouth. Everything inside her tightened and she moaned. Nate growled, then closed his teeth over the tenderest part of her.
Claire exploded into a million pieces.
Her body shuddered and pulsed. Then every bone seemed to melt and she was weightless. She felt Nate set her down, felt his hand on her breast. Claire opened her eyes.
The smile that curled his sensuous mouth was a very satisfied one. “You taste even better.”
He kissed her, his tongue mating with hers. Though she'd have thought her body incapable, he eased her back into passion and very soon the need had her squirming. Only this time, she wanted Nate as lost as she'd been. She had no idea how to do that, other than to mimic what he'd done.
Knowing how his hands felt on her body, she let hers glide down his back. Daring, at least in this area, wasn't something that came easily but she wanted to please him. She slid her hands lower until they cupped his backside.
He nipped at her lip, rumbled his approval. Emboldened, Claire repeated the motion, pressing harder as his kisses deepened. Soon the hazy edge of passion was clouding her mind. There was no room for timidness when need swamped her. Digging her fingers into his buttocks, she pressed against him.
“Yes, Claire,” he moaned into her neck, rocking his hips hard against hers. “God, yes.”
As he'd done, her hands slid into his trousers and she felt the glory of his skin. His buttocks clenched underneath her hands. She moved her arm and he accommodated by lifting his hips.
Hard and pulsing, he filled her hand.
He tipped his head back, sucked in a deep breath.
“Are you all right?”
“You can stop,” he growled, “sometime in the next century.”
Smiling, she wrapped her hand around his length, feeling it throb. It was the first time she'd held a man in such a way, and she wondered if most women found it as empowering as she did. She felt his life beating in her hand, felt the proof of his desire for her.
“Do
you
taste as good as you feel?” she teased.
Nate choked on a laugh, then flipped them both over. In a swift move he removed the last of his clothing.
“I won't stop you from finding out,” he challenged.
Claire's heart hitched. Nate, sprawled in the sun, naked and gleaming, was beautiful. That he trusted her so completely with his body was humbling. Her heart filled and spilled with more emotion than she knew what to do with.
Figuring it couldn't be so much different for him than it had been for her, Claire knelt before him. Unlike her, however, she didn't need to force his knees open. He did it for her.
Oh my, she thought, there was a lot to him. And it was hard, hard enough for the tip to be purple. Thinking it may be hurting him, she started there first.
Claire's mouth closed over him, soft and sweet. Nate growled low in his throat and forced himself not to explode at the first brush of her tongue. Her movements weren't practiced and were the more powerful for it. He forced his eyes open. He wanted to watch her take him over and over until he died from the bliss of it.