SECRETS OF THE WIND (10 page)

“Rufus, eh?” Ruan snarled as his hands went to the buttons of his fly.

“He will avenge me!” Chas pronounced.

“How, when the fop has no knowledge of which end of a blade to wield?” her ravager inquired with an evil smirk.

Peeling the britches from his hips, he stepped out of them, presenting the bold thrust of his erection to the wide eyes of his lady. “Now
this
is a sword, wench!” he bragged.

Slowly—very slowly—he put his knee on the bed and threw a leg over Chas’ hips. He sat down gently—his cock stretched out along her lower belly and oozed a bead of love juice upon her flesh.

Chas shut her eyes and turned her head away. She struggled against the bonds holding her wrists, writhing sensually upon the tousled sheets.

Ruan leaned forward to put his hands on her breasts and began to knead them firmly. He ran his thumbs over the straining peaks then flicked the nails of his index fingers over the pebbled surfaces before lightly pinching the sensitive nubs, rolling them between his thumbs and fingers.

“No, please!” Chas begged.

“One more word out of you, wench, and I’ll throw you to my men when I am finished with you,” Ruan warned in a gruff voice. He sat up. “They want you as it is!”

Chas drew her lower lip between her teeth and shivered.

His hands spread over her rib cage and down until one hand—the heel just touching her pubic hair—was pressing firmly on her belly, one finger dipping into her navel. He smiled at Chas’ moan and pressed a bit harder. As he did, he lowered his free hand to the spread V of her thighs and—turning his hand palm upward—slipped his index and middle fingers deep into her cunt. His thumb grazed her clitoris and when she cried out, he grinned mercilessly.

“I’ll make you forget Lord Rufus No-nuts,” he swore and moved his fingers in and out of her with a sure stroke.

“Lord who?” she asked with a giggle.

“Shush or I’ll turn you over to my crew, wench!”

His fingers were easing in and out of her with a rhythm that had Chas squirming. She wriggled her hips, and her heels were digging into the mattress as she sought to elevate her lower body to the luscious torment he wrought.

“I’ll tie you to the mast and let every man on board suckle your tits,” he said and leaned down to capture a hard nipple between his lips, sucking the sensitive peak into his hot mouth as his stiff cock dragged along her thigh.

Chas was rapidly losing herself to the delicious pressure inside her cunt. His fingers were plying her as a master musician with his instrument, but she wanted something harder, something longer than those knowledgeable digits sliding in and out of her.

Ruan sensed his lady’s need and pulled his fingers out of her. “You want me, wench?” he asked in a low, gruff snarl. “You want my stiff cock inside you?”

“Aye, milord!” Chas panted.

“Well, you’ll have to wait,” he snapped.

Chas started to protest, but her lover slid down in the bed, loomed over her and where his fingers had been ravaging, she felt his lips and tongue invading. She groaned as the hot moistness of that little muscle stabbed repeatedly at her clit.

“Ruan!” she cried.

He raised his head. “You dare to call another lover while I am fucking you, wench?”

“Nay,” she said. “It is just that I…”

“Shut your mouth or I will gag you!” he cautioned. “A woman’s mouth is good for only one thing and we’ll get to that soon enough!”

A shiver of delight rippled down Chas’ body, and it was all she could do not to make a sound as he continued to suckle her cunt and ply her vagina and ass with stone-hard fingers.

Ruan knew his lady was nearing a point where he could not control the sensations rippling through her. He snatched his fingers from her and stretched out atop her, settling his cock between her legs.

“I am going to fuck you, wench!” he chortled.

He was in her quickly, his throbbing shaft probing deep. His hands were on her hips, lifting her for his hard thrusts into her wetness. Fingers digging lightly into her rump, he brought her to him in lightning jabs that rocked her.

Chas felt the itch beginning deep inside her and arched her head back, giving herself up to the sensations between her legs. His cock was as hard as tempered steel and her warrior was wielding that delectable weapon with the expertise of a master.

As her climax shot over her in a rosy heat that made her release a soft scream of fulfillment, she felt him come. Long, hard and copious, the culmination of his lovemaking seemed to jerk inside her forever until he fell limp upon her, his face buried in the crook of her damp neck.

They lay there panting, trying to calm their heaving chests. The fingers of Ruan’s right hand were on her left arm, gently stroking the underside from elbow to underarm in a lazy figure eight.

“Will you still turn me over to your crew, Captain Brazen?” she asked gently.

“Nay, wench,” he denied. “No man will ride you save this corsair.”

Chas closed her eyes and rested her chin on the back of his head, and sighed.

* * * * *

“What do you think of a springtime Joining?” he asked.

“They are nice. Do you know someone who will be Joined in the spring?” she countered.

“I thought perhaps you and me.”

She pushed back from him a little and looked up into his tender eyes. “Well, if it is our Joining of which you speak, I would prefer summer,” she admitted, “upon the Solstice.”

He nodded. “Sounds like an auspicious time to me.”

“There are, however, a few minor things that may prevent such a Joining,” she said.

Ruan frowned. “And those are what, exactly?”

“No enjoying the honeymoon before the Joining,” she said firmly.

The prince groaned but he nodded his reluctant agreement. “What else?”

“The groom has not asked the bride to be his mate. Don’t you think he should?”

A slow smile dimpled Ruan Cosaint’s handsome face and he released his lady. With manly grace, he went to one knee before her, took her hand in his, kissed it cavalierly and then placed the palm against his heart.

“Milady Chastain,” he said, his eyes locking with hers. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my bride?”

“It would be my honor, Milord Ruan.”

“Good then…”

Chas placed the palm of her free hand against his cheek. “There is one more condition, one of utmost importance at this precise moment.”

The frown returned to the prince’s rugged face. “That being what, milady?”

“You take a long, hot bath,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “You stink!”

Ruan lowered her hand to the bulge in his britches. “Methinks I’d do better with a long, cold one, don’t you?”

Chas grinned. “Perhaps, as long as you save the long, hot one for me!”