“Yes.”
He sighed heavily. “Fine.” Hoisting himself out of the chair he’d just gotten comfortable in, he added, “I’ll expect a boon for this.”
“Your boon will be a treated wound.”
He shook his head as he looked down at her. “I’ll want a kiss.”
Her heart stopped, taking with it her ability to breathe. Captured by the mischief in his eyes, she finally found her voice. “Well, you shan’t have one.”
His gaze lowered and then lingered on her lips. “I call it payment for putting up with your nagging.”
“Then forget the plaster. Maybe you’ll end up with so much poison James will have to cut off your head.”
“You’re a bloodthirsty little wench,” he responded, chuckling.
“Who will not be handing out kisses like Christmas treats.” Even though she was so aware of him, she seemed to be warmed by an inner heat that flowed directly from him.
As she stood before him with her arms folded firmly, Dominic felt a strong urge to take her in his arms and give her bewitching and sassy mouth something else to contemplate. “A kiss,
petite,
” he warned, and left the room.
Alone, Clare wondered if it was normal to be so affected by a man. Did he really expect her to fulfill his request? After his heartfelt words last night, she no longer feared he’d do her harm, so she was certain he wouldn’t force a kiss on her. He was just trying to needle her, she supposed, and he did like to tease. In the middle of those logical thoughts the remembrance of last night and his warm touch against her cheek came back unbidden, and she relived the moment all over again; the way her eyes lidded closed, the way she’d trembled. What might it be like to give herself to him fully and without inhibition? she wondered. The thought was scandalous, true, but once she returned to Savannah her captivity would resume. Should she give in to him and see where this small respite might lead? But she had no answer.
H
“James sent some plaster, and I’m still wanting that kiss,” he pronounced, eyes holding hers.
Ignoring his declaration, she took the battered tin cup from his hand and stirred the dab of sticky plaster with the small tarnished spoon resting inside. “You’ll have to sit, please.”
He took a seat in the chair at his desk and his manner was easy as he watched her intently.
Only then did she realize that she’d set herself up. In order to get close enough to apply the plaster she’d have to do just that, get close; close enough to touch his skin, close enough for the heat of his body to brush her own.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
She shook her head quickly. “No.” Taking in a deep breath to buttress her resolve, she moved to the side of the chair so she could begin.
“Might be easier if you stand in front of me,
petite.”
She paused. The gaze she met fairly sparkled with amusement.
He tipped his head back so that the cut was exposed. “I’m ready when you are.”
He had her over a barrel and they both knew it, but she refused to tuck tail and run. Determined not to look into his face, she leaned in and spread a thin line of the plaster down both sides of the open wound. Although she tried to remain unmoved by his nearness, warmth, and clean fresh smell, it was impossible. A quick look up showed him watching her, so she just as quickly refocused on her task. “Did the doctor send something to bind this with?”
“Yes.” He handed her a thin short strip of black silk.
She gently placed one edge of the silk against the outer edge of the wound, then just as gently pinched the skin closed, and pressed the unattached edge of the silk over it. The plaster and silk would hold the wound together and keep out any dirt while it healed. “There,” she said approvingly. “Now you won’t have to worry about poison or decapitation.”
“And my kiss?”
She viewed him silently at first, taking in the chiseled features, the shape of his mouth, and the gold hoop gleaming in his ear. To her surprise and to his, she tossed back the same question he’d posed to her earlier. “If I say yes, will you stop bedeviling me?”
He grinned and confessed, “Probably not.”
She looked away hoping to hide her smile, but he gently turned her chin back and gazed at her long enough for time to stand still, and for all her defenses to crumble and melt away. Warm lips brushed hers as he whispered, “Probably not, because one kiss will lead to another, and another, and another…”
It was the most arousing moment of Clare’s life. His mouth was firm yet fleeting, bewitching her with a series of short, slow kisses that sparked, seduced, and promised more. She’d never experienced anything so deliciously overwhelming, and for a moment could do nothing but let him have his lazy, heated, feasting way. In response she was breathless, drowning. When he gently tugged her down onto his lap, she complied without protest. Easing her closer, he deepened the kiss.
“You are sweet,
petite,”
he husked out, pressing slow hot touches of his lips against her mouth until it parted passionately. When he teased the tip of his tongue against the trembling corners and then nibbled possessively on the ripe, lush flesh of her bottom lip, she moaned.
Dominic knew from the moment he kissed her that the longer she sat on his lap, the more likely she’d wind up with his hands touching her everywhere. He’d sensed she’d be passionate, but not this beguiling. Her lips were like manna, and all he wanted to do was slide his hands over her silk-dressed curves and then beneath to sample the damp fullness he knew awaited him there in the warm darkness. Wanting to pull away from her tempting mouth before things got out of hand, but unable to do so, he murmured over his racing blood, “Clare, unless you want to surrender to me fully, we should stop.”
Her lips stinging, her breathing heightened, Clare pulled back just enough to break the contact. She closed her eyes for a moment in a vain attempt to find herself.
He placed his lips against her ear, murmuring, “I could kiss you until the sun becomes the moon.”
There seemed to be a haze over her vision and her whole body felt awake in a strange and wonderful way. Her nipples had tightened to hard points and her blood seemed to be singing a slow undulating tune. “Is this the way it should be?” she asked.
“Is this the way what should be?”
“The beginning of coitus between a man and a woman.”
“Yes,” Dominic responded, noting her now serious manner. “Was it not this way when you conceived your children?”
She shook her head and whispered, “No.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “Was there violence?”
Clare knew what he meant. “No.”
“Good, then I won’t have to find the man and kill him.”
She pulled back so she could see his face. The hard glitter in his dark eyes revealed him to be quite serious. She fit herself back against his broad chest and let his strong yet gentle arms enfold her again. “He was a stranger chosen by Violet from amongst her brother’s field slaves. I didn’t know what to do, but he did, so I—I just lay there. I knew it would hurt, and it did. When he was done, I wasn’t sure how I felt. Shamed. Soiled.”
He nodded his understanding.
“A year after Benjamin was born, she chose another man, another stranger, and I sent my mind elsewhere until he was finished.”
Dominic wanted to send Violet Sullivan to the bottom of the sea for her callousness, but putting his anger away, he said genuinely, “Coupling doesn’t have to be so joyless,
petite.
When our time comes, I shall be especially attentive.”
Their gazes met.
“I promise,” he declared, using a finger to tenderly stroke her cheek before placing a solemn kiss on her brow. “With all my heart.”
“Do the women you have coitus with just lie still?”
“I should hope not. That would make me a very poor lover.” Dominic had never had a conversation quite like this one, but he would cut off his own arm before mocking her for her inexperience.
“And you are not considered a poor lover, are you?”
“Non.”
She sat up and he watched her appear to mull something over. After a few silent moments, she looked to him, asking, “Do you think I will be damned for all eternity if I choose to give myself to you?”
The earnestly stated question made his heart swell, even as he shook his head negatively. “The people enslaving you are the ones facing damnation.” He traced a slow finger over the curve of her lips. “And I would be honored to accept such a precious gift. In return, I will teach you a love that will make you forget all about what happened before.”
Moved by his husky declaration and filled with an uncharacteristic boldness, she kissed him to show her thanks, and whispered against his lips, “I don’t have the experience your others likely had.”
He kissed her back and ran his hand slowly up her spine. “That matters not.”
“You’ll show me what to do?”
For a long moment, while they lost themselves in the tastes and warmth of each other, all words and responses were set aside.
“Will you?” she asked humidly as the languid kissing continued. Only the sounds of their breathing could be heard against the silence.
“Gladly,” he whispered. “But the first time I make love to you, I want it to be in my home, and in my bed.”
His voice was so potent her eyes slid closed and her body shimmered.
He moved his lips to her ear and asked, “Do you know why?”
“No,” she breathed as he rubbed the tip of his finger slowly over one tight nipple and then the other.
“So that there will be no one to disturb us.”
Too shocked and overwhelmed by his decidedly bold fondling, Clare felt as though she were in the middle of a powerful storm that was threatening to sweep her away. Her breasts crooned in response to his glorious stroking, and there was a warm restlessness between her thighs she’d never felt before.
Dominic met her eyes and smiled. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Very much.”
“Bon.
You are a passionate woman, Clare. We will have fun together, you and I.”
“I’ve not had much fun. Ever.”
“I know, but we’ll make up for that while we are together. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Clare realized that in less than a day, he’d turned from a man who terrified her, into one with the ability to see into her heart, while at the same time offering her something she’d never tasted before—passion. And even though their time together would be finite, she planned to take full advantage of each and every moment, so that when she returned to Savannah she would at least have the memories.
“Would you like more?” she heard him ask through the haze floating around her. A drum seemed to be beating softly between her thighs.
He filled his hands with her breasts and she moaned again when expert fingers gently tugged and plucked. “Or do you wish for me to stop…”
There was so much sensation flowing through Clare, she couldn’t even recall her name, but she did know that she didn’t want him to stop. “No, I don’t want you to stop.”
“Then say…Don’t stop, Dominic….”
He teasingly bit each of her breasts and she came apart, crying out softly. Her hips rose, her body stiffened, and an unnamed force took hold and spun her out over the ocean.
Dominic closed his eyes and employed every calming thought he could muster in order to fight down the smoldering urge to take her over to his bed and have her. Now. He was so close to the edge, he knew that if he even looked at her he was going to spill his seed like a youth visiting his first bordello, so he kept his eyes closed.
She asked in a dazed voice, “What was that?”
Against his better judgment he looked down and swept his vision over her lidded eyes and passion-full lips. She was in the final throes of her orgasm, and the sight threatened to shatter the tenuous hold he had on himself. Closing his eyes again and forcing himself to think of the snows of Greenland, he said quietly, “Orgasm.”
“Is it a normal occurrence?”
“It is when you’re with a proper lover.”
“Are you in pain, Dominic?”
Her usage of his first name garnered a smile. “No,
petite.”
“Then what—”
“Up with you now,” he said, giving her one last stirring kiss before placing his hands on her waist and guiding her to her feet. “I have a ship to captain and some charts to look over. Having you so close will distract me.”
Her reply, a saucy pout, drew his laughter. “Go sit on the bed. I’ll only be a few minutes.
She nodded and complied.
Watching her retreat, Dominic forced himself to look at the chart in front of him. In reality, the chart was a ruse. He’d needed to distance himself to allow his erection to subside. Her tempting kisses had him in turmoil. Being at the desk gave him the opportunity to sit in tortured silence until he could stand and not embarrass her with a show of how much he physically desired her.
A short while later with everything back to something akin to normal, Dominic stood. “I’m going up on deck. I have to meet with my officers. Would you like to get some air?”
Clare doubted she’d ever be the same after such a novel experience. Even now her breasts were whispering his name. “Yes, I would.” She hurried to get her cloak.
When she joined him at the door, he touched her cheek and said, “I’ll be very discreet in my dealings with you in front of the crew. I don’t wish for them to think you are anything but the lady that you are.”
“That’s very generous.”
“You should expect no less.” He gave her another long, lingering kiss, then let her precede him from the room.
Up on deck, he walked her to the stern rail. “I’ll return as soon as I can. If you need anything just ask one of the crew.”
She nodded.
He bowed and departed.
Alone, Clare stood and watched the late afternoon sunlight sparkle like jewels strewn across the water. Her body was still echoing from her passionate encounter. Her lips stung from the many kisses they’d shared, and the restlessness between her thighs had lessened somewhat after the orgasm, but her awakened senses craved more. Her enslavement, with its puritan influences, had left her unprepared for such a stimulating interlude, and she again wondered if she would be damned for seeking the pleasures of the flesh with such a man. In the end, she decided she didn’t care. Returning to Savannah and the fetters of captivity would occur soon enough.
Whether due to the captain’s orders, or of their own accord, the deck crew didn’t disturb her. Those who came near nodded greetings but continued on their way; however, the sudden sound of someone calling out, “Miss Clare,” caused her to turn with curiosity.
Dr. James Early was approaching. The tall blond Scotsman was in his own way as handsome as the captain. “You did a fine job patching up the captain,” he told her in words laced with the brogue of his homeland.
“Thank you, and thank you for the plaster.”
“You’re welcome. The captain’s still meeting and asked that I come and make sure you are well.”
“I am.”
He came closer and stood beside her at the rail. “Quite the day.”
She knew he was referencing the battle and she agreed. “Is it always this frenzied?”
“At times yes, and at others no. Sinking the
Amsterdam
was a boon though.”
“What will happen to its captain and the men who chose to leave with him?”
He shrugged. “Hopefully, they’ll be picked up by the British Navy and hung for their crimes. Even better would be to have their longboat sink so they could turn into a shark’s supper. I’ve no sympathy for slavers.”