Her legs spread wide, no resistance from her. She wasn’t the type to back down. In that, my incomplete intelligence assessment had been right. A woman like her would be wasted on the Bastard’s associates. She deserved to thrive, needed someone to push her to her limits, to truly challenge her.
My train of thought disappeared down a tunnel as her skirt rode up, exposed more of her soft thighs. Her eyes darted lower. They widened as if she had only just realized the position I’d moved her into. She pressed against my hands as they moved up her thighs. Her legs widened when I moved higher. She bit her lip, watched my every move.
She wore blue panties, navy blue, fitting our setting. They clung to her skin. She couldn’t feign arousal, not with her limited experience. My fingers slid closer to their goal. I’d held back as much as I could, slowed my pace to keep from spooking her. But everyone’s patience had a limit. I needed to taste her.
My fingers hooked the side of her briefs and yanked them to the side. She hissed an inhale but relaxed. Her pomegranate cheeks darkened further, eyes fluttering. Had any guy ever done what I was about to do? Was I Jacques Cousteau plunging into depths unplundered by any other man?
What man didn’t yearn to be an explorer, to plant his flag on virgin land, to claim it for queen and country?
I leaned closer, inches from her. She glistened with her arousal, flush and ready for me. Soon, I’d recover and be ready too. She sucked a breath in as mine billowed over her.Slow down, build her anticipation.I listened to the mental command, approached at a glacial pace. When my nose brushed her folds, I dove in tongue first.
She tasted like desire, promises of potent sex, the unforgettable encounters that fueled you through your fifth night at sea when sleep eluded you. I’d been with many women; so few took me to such places. Just the potential with Gianna had me starting to rise again so soon.
My tongue moved north along her lips. Gianna shuddered when my nose brushed against her clit. A breathy moan escaped her lips until she slammed them shut. Too many of the women I’d been with faked it, they moaned like the girls in porn to prove how great I was.
Yes men and women flocked to men in my position. They wanted a piece of the power or the wealth and thought the best way of impressing me was to agree with everything I said. But I needed challenge. How could I improve if every girl I took to bed sang my praises like I was Don Juan for just showing up?
It had taken an encounter with a Mytilenean whore for me to find a woman willing to criticize my methods, instruct me on pleasuring a woman with my mouth. It always tickled me I learned it on Lesbos.
My tongue reached her clit. Time for the fireworks. I enveloped her nub, encircled it in the dip in my tongue. A single finger found her slick entrance. I probed but kept to the surface.
“Oh ahhh… hhh,” Gianna babbled. Her legs twitched.
I rubbed my finger over her entrance, added more pressure and seeped through. She could take more, physically, but I didn’t want to overwhelm her. Before, I might have. I’d wanted to see how far she’d take her act, see how she’d follow through. Now this explorer had a flag to plant, a new conquest to explore.
Gianna flinched but a throaty moan escaped, muffled as fast as she could recover. I held my finger where it was, kept my tongue swirling just as Lydia had taught me. When Gianna’s legs relaxed, my finger probed deeper.
Her legs trembled and another moan escaped her control. One of her legs kicked under me. Her shin brushed against my cock. It’d recovered quickly. She froze at the contact, her whole body tense. I reluctantly lifted my head.
“It’s your fault, you know,” I whispered, trying to meet her eyes but she avoided them. “It usually takes me a half hour at least before I’m ready for round two. Are you ready?”
A shaky breath offered my only answer. I’d found her limit. Her act had ended long ago, washed away with desire. Pressing her now, taking it further would only push her from me. Now, once I left her in her cabin, she’d replay the events of tonight. She’d come to me when she was ready.
“We never finished our tour, did we?” I said as I pulled away and stood at the side of the bed. “There are still two decks to go, three if you want to see the engine room.”
Her brows knitted together. She pushed her skirt down to cover herself and frowned. Then her eyes widened and she nodded.
“Yes, the tour,” she replied.
I retrieved my underwear and turned away to slip them on. When I turned back, Gianna’s head darted around, away from me. Yes, she’d come to me when she was ready. It was as inevitable as the tides.
9
Gianna
Iglared out the long narrow window in the cabin Alexei had left me in. Were they still called portholes if they weren’t round? Night had fallen and the line of lights, Ostia’s glittering shore front, grew smaller and turned away. Every moment, the moving yacht took me further from land and the possibility of reasonable escape.
My focus remained on the retreating strip of land. It was the safest place for my thoughts. They wanted to drift to the last hour, how far I’d gone with my captor and what he’d done with that silver tongue of his.
A shiver raced through my shoulders and I shook my head. Eyes closed for a breath before I opened them and resumed my impotent stare out the window or porthole or whatever the hell it was. Alexei would tell me what to call it if I asked, but I scrunched my eyes closed and tried to banish him from my thoughts completely.
He was exactly the type of guy I had worried about, that I had stayed away from relationships and kept my virginity to avoid dealing with even the possibility of falling in love. What was the point, when I’d be promised to another?
He would have been so easy to love. As much as I’d needled him with complaints the entire time — he had kidnapped me after all — his offer was almost as attractive as he was when we’d finished the tour of his yacht.
The only piece of clothing he’d worn had been a pair of skin tight shorts. The moonlight reflected off his lips when he smirked while bragging about the yacht’s Jacuzzi. Despite everything – how I’d come to be in his presence or what he’d just done to get such glistening lips – the desire to kiss them almost overtook me at that moment. I’d fought it then and tried my best to ignore it now.
I jerked away from the window. My arm shot back as I spun and my hand slammed into my suitcase. It clattered to the floor. The pain rid my mind of such dangerous thoughts about a dangerous man. Staring at my fallen luggage brought home why that word had been the first that crossed my mind seeing my current captor step outside the bar.
