The Captain of All Pleasures (22 page)

“I assure you I can,” he said. “I can't trust that you'll return.”

“You
can't trust
me?”
she asked in disbelief.

“This subject's closed. I'll accompany you on whatever business you have in town in the morning. Now, come to bed.”

Her eyebrows shot up at his resolute tone, at his decree. She made one more attempt. “You're truly not letting me go?”

“Never,” he said easily as he stared down into her eyes. The realization of what he'd said obviously hit him, and he turned away as if surprised by his own words. Which was a mistake, because behind him, Nicole was bringing down the thick glass bottle, and again for Sutherland the world went black.

 

When Sutherland came to and found he was tied to the bed and gagged, he thrashed against the ropes. But if Nicole knew anything, it was how to tie a knot. She couldn't help flashing a proud grin at her handiwork. “Wouldn't waste your time trying to get out of…” She trailed off under his lethal glare, “…those.”

He said something against the cloth she'd tied over his mouth. She could only imagine what words he used to impart the idea that he would throttle her if loose. Somehow, she prevented herself from shivering under that glacial look. She rifled through his desk and trunks for money, distracting herself from his fury. “What's that, Captain?” she asked. “Oh yes, yes, very good of you…. I think I
will
borrow some money.” She found the bag of coins she'd been eyeing earlier and smiled over at him before glancing back.

“Most gracious of you, as usual. Your hospitality, your company…always so generous.”

She walked over to her own trunk and began stuffing some clothing into a purloined satchel. “Pardon? Oh, of course I will write and reply to what I'm sure will be a flood of correspondence from you.

“Alas, the time has come for me to depart, and as I am sure you will no doubt make this into a long, teary good-bye…” She stopped when he groaned again.

Was he in a lot of pain? She hadn't hit him that hard, just in a specific spot Chancey had taught her. But that sound…

Any concern evaporated when she looked at him. He watched her, or rather her shirt, which gaped open as she bent down. She plucked her collar up to her neck as her face reddened. Helplessly tied to the bed, and still he looked predatory. That look was as powerful as a touch.

Could he desire her, even now? Deciding to find out, she boldly leaned down again. She made sure he had a clear view of her exposed breasts as she fiddled with something in her bag.

He groaned again. A heady sense of power flooded through her. She looked over his body and saw his arousal swelling against the cloth of his trousers. She gasped. Her mind replayed the last time they'd been intimate. In another second, he would have taken her. She remembered how desperate she'd been for him to do just that.

Doing the forbidden had always rewarded Nicole. And if making love to Sutherland wasn't forbidden…Slowly she padded over to the bed and sat on the edge, her hand out as she worked up the nerve to touch him.

His eyes were hooded, and his chest rose and fell quickly. She placed her hands there and lightly stroked him, loving the feel of his hard muscles and the crisp hair that came to a V. She trailed her hand down to the line of hair just above his trousers and followed it, watching his hard stomach dive as her nails grazed his skin.

She stilled. He was aroused, but what if he didn't
want
to desire her? The ropes should have dampened his need. Should she untie him? No, he'd only punish her for hitting him over the head and the embarrassment of being tied up.

Wondering how to proceed, she absently began stroking him again. Lord, this was madness. She'd knocked him out in order to get away, and although he seemed powerless, he could make her stay. She couldn't do this. She was just about to jump up and leave when she felt his body tense. Looking down, she saw her own hands petting him…all over. Up and down the sides of his slim hips, caressing the flexing undersides of his bound arms. “Oh!” she gasped, surprised at herself. He pulled away, twisting on his side, and refused to look at her.

Who was he to turn from her?
She wanted him; would she let a few, well, ropes stand in the way?

She rose up on her knees and, using all her weight to turn him over, sat astride him above his waist. She glimpsed a flash of determination just as he rose up as far as his bonds would allow, forcing her to slide to his lap. He sported a satisfied expression before sinking back again.

He's maneuvering me? He's supposed to be helplessly tied to the bed.
Did he think he was the one in control here? Wanting to experience that heady sense of power again, she slowly unbuttoned her shirt. His eyes smoldered.

She wouldn't have thought it possible, but he became even harder and hotter beneath her. Instinctively she wriggled against him, finding the right position, getting more comfortable. She thought he cursed against the cloth. She flicked another button open as she slowly moved against him, the pressure and friction eating away any shyness she might have felt.

With her hands on the sides of her shirt, she asked before her courage faltered, “Do you want to see me, Sutherland?”

D
id he want to see her?
He wanted to see her, and taste her, and bury himself inside her. He'd been in a living hell of wanting her and being denied her lithe body. All thoughts of throttling her were gone, replaced by a desire so consuming he'd never experienced the like in all his life.

He was in a less than desirable position, and he knew he'd be furious with not just her but himself later. Yet need pulsed through him, settling like steel in his cock. He burned for her, his desire overwhelming the ache of his abused head. He'd play along. Get her so aroused that she would untie him. The feelings of powerlessness and fury receded; he could bed this little wench if he wanted to, even tied up.

And, damn it, he wanted to. Under any circumstances.

He gave a short nod at the questioning look in her eyes, and she slowly, damn her, so slowly pulled her shirt past her breasts. He sucked in a breath and his cock stiffened hungrily. Her breasts, so pale and perfect, were—he'd have to use his memory—silky to touch.

He looked up to find that she'd faltered, as if she didn't know what to do next. He nodded pointedly at her trousers. She looked down and fingered the waist of her pants.

“Do you want me to take these off now?”

He gave a quick nod again. And watched spellbound as she slipped off his engorged body and stood, shyly unbuttoning her trousers. She pulled on her bottom lip with her teeth, those dark eyes grave with uncertainty. Yet even when she hadn't a shred of clothing on, she didn't shy away or cover herself. She resolutely let him look his fill.

Looking at her soft, smooth body, he thought again that he could not have created a woman who would be more beautiful to him. She fit him as no other had. Her full, upthrusting breasts had molded perfectly in his hand, and the thought of cupping them made him strain against the ropes. He tore his gaze away and ran his eyes slowly down her body, taking in the soft indentation of her waist and the gently flaring hips.

All thought left him as his eyes continued steadily down to the softly curling hair at the juncture between her thighs. His mouth watered like that of a wolf spying prey. He wanted her under his mouth. When she untied him, he would set upon her in a frenzy with his probing tongue at her wet lips. Fascinated, he watched as a blush crept up her body, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking.

When she glanced at the door and back, a feeling of unease settled over him. She could change her mind, and he could do nothing to prevent it. He nodded to his own trousers. She understood and seemed glad to have something to do. She stole across to the bed and, with trembling fingers, grasped the top of his trousers, touching his stomach. He couldn't control the sudden intake of breath or the surging hardness in his pants.

He cursed his body when she jumped back, looking at him wonderingly.
Damn.
He hadn't thought he could get even harder, and now she was even more hesitant. Before she could change her mind, he jerked his head from her to his pants. Without a word, he commanded her to undress him.

This time she pulled them down determinedly and gasped when he sprang forth. She was riveted, but he didn't want her to watch him; he needed to be in her now.

 

Sutherland again nodded at her and then to himself. What did he want her to do? She was afraid to untie him, yet she wanted this to happen. But he had to be on top of her, didn't he?

She moved to the side of the bed, kneeling beside him, staring enthralled at his erection. It was like its own entity, as it throbbed and grew. Beautiful, as though carved from marble, but hot. Its broad tip was moist. Before she could think, she'd placed her hands on it. The hair curling at its base was soft, the sack she hefted taut. She cupped it and weighed it in her hand, making him shudder. A sharp, low utterance escaped him. He pinned her with his stare and spoke against the cloth. Surely, he was asking her to untie him.

“I won't untie you.”

He shook his head. She didn't think he'd call out to the watch because he wouldn't want them to see him like this, so slowly, cautiously, she leaned forward, untying the cloth at the back of his head and pulling it free. He took a deep breath and seemed not to know what to say. Unable to stop herself, she returned to stroking the stretched skin of his shaft, noting the sensitivity at the crown. She could touch him forever….

He flinched as if she'd burned him.
“Untie me.”

“Don't ask me that, because I won't.”

“If you untie me, I can bring you even more pleasure than you found the night of the storm.”

The events of that night affected her, plagued her, made her burn. But this wasn't just a memory; she could do the things she wished they'd done that night.

Her attention kept trailing to her hand gliding up and down his length. Fascinated, a moth to flame, she moved to reach him better, placing a knee between his legs. His thigh came up and pressed between her own. She drew in a shocked breath. She would move away…but it soothed her, like blowing on a burn. She stayed against him, still fondling him.

That was
her
hand gripping him. She was panting now, not caring that she'd grown wet against his leg. Then he flexed his hard thigh, making her rock up and down. She bit back a moan. He did it again, then stopped, rasping to her, “Use it, love. Take what you need….”

And she did. She rode his leg, her right hand holding his sculpted torso, her left hand stroking.

“Nicole! Look at me.”

She dragged her gaze from her busy hand.

His face was pained, his deep voice gravelly. “Do you want me to make you feel things you've never felt before?”

Shivering at the low timbre of his voice, she could only mouth, “Yes.”

“Put it inside you.”

She was well past the point of feeling any shyness. Her scalp tightened and her skin tingled. The yearning wetness between her legs drove her to do as he told her.

 

When Nicole covered him, as she had his leg, he sucked in a breath and almost exploded instantaneously beneath that dewy heat kissing his flesh. He'd been driven mad when she used his leg, almost came in her hand while she masturbated him, and now to feel her…

“You have to stop that,” he grated. “You have to put me inside you.”

She glanced down with a nervous look at where their bodies touched.

In the back of his mind, he felt like a bastard. This position would hurt her more, but he couldn't turn back. It was her fault, damn her, that he couldn't take her in a more conventional manner.

His conscience got the better of him. “This will hurt you…probably worse than it would if I could move over you.”

She looked searchingly into his eyes. “When you've done this before, did you do anything to keep the woman from hurting?”

He frowned. “Do you mean, when I've deflowered a woman?”

“Yes,” she breathed as she resumed moving against him.

He watched her eyes glaze over with passion and, feeling his body's response, he found it difficult to answer. “I've never done…I've never been with a virgin. But I know it helps if you're, well, if you feel desire for me, too,” he tried to explain, his voice thick. “You seem to have that covered.”

Her sultry eyes opened and sparkled with…humor?

“No pun intended?” Her lips broke into a grin as she looked down at where her body connected with his.

“Love,” he said as his answering grin was replaced by a look of misery, “we've either got to do this or we need to—” Anything he might have added was lost as he watched her rise up and grasp him, feeding it in….

A low hiss of breath stole across his lips as she slid over him. The pleasure was so intense, so driving, it took every ounce of will he had not to thrust upward into her.

Slowly. She needed to do this slowly.

It didn't appear that Nicole understood this. When she'd just placed the tip of him into her, she pulled away, but her body just as quickly compelled her to move down him again. She did this shallow rising and falling forever, each time lowering herself slightly more onto his aching cock. There could be no worse torture. Would he ever fit inside her?

“Nicole,” he grated out, “take more of me in you—I need you to take all of me.” If he wasn't fully into that tight sheath soon, he wouldn't be able to stop his hips from surging up into her.

After a pause, she pushed her hands farther up on his chest, forcing herself back until he could feel the barrier.

He never took his eyes from hers as she steadied herself, gliding lower and lower. She wouldn't look away, either. It was as if she needed him to gain courage. But when her eyes teared, he knew he needed to help her. He took a breath, dug his heels into the bed, and shoved his way into her core.

She cried out, her nails embedding themselves in his chest, before she sank over him, motionless.

“Nicole?
Are you all right?”

She breathed against his skin. “Uh-huh.”

He made himself still inside her, wanting to savor the way she clasped him so tightly, knowing she needed time to adjust to him.

How long they lay like this, he didn't know. All his muscles stood tense in agony, not being able to move inside her, but he was a big man and didn't want to hurt her any more.

Her body at last grew accustomed to the fullness and became greedy. She rose up and gingerly impaled herself. He wanted to make this last, but she began moving on him faster, sighing, moaning, wincing when she took him as fully as she could, still not to the hilt. If his hands were free, he would be running them up and down her body and maybe even encircling her waist to slow their explosive joining.

The idea of being tied up became increasingly erotic to him, and he tried not to think of the ropes lest he come too soon. With him tied, she was free to do whatever she needed to pleasure herself with his body.

 

Nicole was on the verge of that overriding release, and now that she recognized the feeling and welcomed it, she did everything to hasten that end. She rode him in complete abandon, opening her knees wide to pull more of him inside her. The limits of their bodies became unclear as she found herself rushing closer to her climax. She wished she had untied him so that he could touch her swollen breasts. He must have sensed what she wanted, because he commanded, “Arch your back more. Give them to me.”

As she did, he leaned up, his muscles straining against his bonds so that he could rub his tongue over the swollen peaks. When he lay back, her body obediently followed him, and she felt a strange, insistent urge to hand him her breast in offering. She could only lay her right hand across her torso under her breast as she dipped down over him, but he understood the gesture and hungrily latched onto her nipple, making it harden even more between his lips.

He moved from one to the other. As though suckling her excited him, he pressed his feet down and used the resistance to reach his hips up, slamming up into her, springing her up and down in a fury.
Too much…
Her whole body stiffened…then the wave crashed over her in a fiery pulsing of wetness and gripping spasms. He followed her, her breast against his mouth as he groaned and burst forward from his own throbbing eruption.

 

Derek lay unmoving. Nicole had fallen asleep after he'd climaxed, lying softly on his chest, her body on and wrapped around his.

As he delved through all the emotions and questions swirling inside him, one thought stood out—he could not lose her. The feeling of wanting her so totally was mysterious to him. And alarming.

With any other woman, the idea of being tied up and unable to extricate himself after sex would have been his undoing. He'd never stayed with a woman after he was done with her. He should be experiencing the familiar panic that always came when someone was getting too close. Instead, his position infuriated him because she could choose to get up and walk away, and he couldn't prevent her. He'd never experienced anything like what continued to happen between them, and he knew in his bones he never would again without her.

How much longer would his men be ashore? Three hours? If he could keep her here until they got back, she might think it wiser not to leave. Then, with time, he could convince her to stay with him.

He could call the watch assigned to the ship, but imagining the betrayed look that would flash down on him as soon as she woke up, he hesitated. Worse, what if she didn't move in time? He had, he thought with an inward smile, given her plenty to be worn out from.

His face tightened. The thought of his watch coming in and seeing her in the position they were in—No, he thought angrily, that wasn't an option. So now his plan was simply to remain as still as possible and hope she wouldn't wake up until his crew got back.

At least, that was the plan. Until he hardened inside her again.

She stirred in her sleep, murmuring something and lightly grasping his shoulder. Luckily she didn't wake up; if only he could say that about his wayward member.