“I’ll remember your sly tactics to avoid the inevitable. In terms of Robert and Lily−those two are engaged in such bliss that their first child is undoubtedly rooted. Which reminds me, it’s time we created one of our own.” He unbuttoned his pants. How did he arouse so quickly? His swollen manhood stood hard, pulsing and seeking, a sword ready to thrust.
Claire sat up. “It isn’t proper. The sun is up. What if someone should happen upon us?”
“For the past two days, you’ve been unconcerned about the daylight. The servants, I’ve ordered out until dinner time and that’s the only time they’re allowed here,” he grinned wickedly.
“I fear for my virtue.” She sighed.
“Liar,” he chided, his hands shooting out to push her down on the table. “You’re my wife, I mean to take advantage of the fact, when you want it, and I want it.”
He slid his hands under her buttocks, cupping them and pulling her close to the edge. Claire had wantonly taken to not wearing undergarments for Devon’s insatiable appetite left her not knowing when he would take her next. On the beach under the stars, at the waterfalls, amidst a bed of soft forest ferns, shamelessly in his cabin on board his ship while his crew worked up above. She could not get enough of him. Her body melted in sensuality as her naked limbs were exposed to his hungry view. He bent her knees up, gently kissing one then the other. The blazing desire in his eyes stoked a burning fire, her hot scent warm and wet swirled, his nostrils flared, luring him and building her arousal in the most primitive way. A soft gasp caught within her throat when he thrust inside her. He gripped her bottom and slammed into her and within seconds, she moved with him, liquid, hot, intoxicating, exciting, her body gloving his...
Her fingers clutched at the edges of the table. Her body strained wildly and gave, allowing free rein to his passions, the relentless driving force of his body pulling her hard back upon him. And still it wasn’t enough. Suddenly, she felt as if she’d been struck by a bolt of lightning, shattering in a million brilliant shards of light. He thrust, once, twice, and then spilled his seed into her, liquid and warm, the smell of his sex deliciously, permeating the air. She marveled, the warm sweet-tasting ecstasy pulsing into her.
Spent, he collapsed upon her, Claire taking his full weight, wrapping her legs and arms protectively around him, cradling his head upon her chest. In time, he rose and carried her upstairs, made love to her again then dozed and laid the day to waste, luxuriating in bed.
Until she faced Devon leaving, she would live from day to day, enjoying the simplest pleasures, savoring her newfound appreciation of life. A fragile happiness she prayed would not be shattered and taken by events beyond her control. This she vowed. She snuggled up to him and drifted off to sleep.
“What do you want?” Le Trompeur growled under a sickle moon. “If Captain Blackmon learns of my communication with you−”
“We need you to help us escape.” Jarvis gripped the bars of his prison.
“You squander my time on stupidity!” Le Trompeur’s spittle flew through the bars.
“Hear us out. We have a proposal that I’m sure will interest you. A quid pro quo arrangement,” Jarvis smoothly suggested.
“What can you possibly offer me of value, locked in a jail?”
“A ransom for myself and Sir Teakle.”
Le Trompeur huffed. “Fools. I must be gone by tomorrow. To think I crossed this island in the middle of the night for nothing. I should slit your throats.”
“Hear me out,” said Sir Jarvis, inspired with his own cleverness. “There is enmity between you and the Black Devil. I can give you vital information on him. He was a slave on my plantation. I know his Achilles heel. In fact, I can give you something very dear to him. How would you like to be a marionette, pulling all his strings?”
Le Trompeur leaned against the grill work. “You have my interest.”
He held her securely in his arms, dreams of this haunting him forever now real. He had never begun to imagine the magic that he could feel, and if he feared of anything, he was afraid that he might never come to a place in his life again when he could know such sweet and soaring pleasure. His wife slept against him naked, her hair splayed over him, her slim white hand upon his bronzed chest. A fierce tension seized hold of him. He had not imagined that any woman could create such a desire within him, could arouse such passions, such a deep tempest.
She shifted slightly, then realized he was awake. She turned slowly in his arms and her eyes widened, grasping he’d been awake for some time, studying her. She searched his face, her eyes golden splendor in the silvery sheen. A look of longing held in her gaze, a longing as deep and as keen as the one hungering in his chest.
Devon moved a strand of her hair away from where it cloaked her breast. She moved her arms about him, beckoning him closer to her as they lay on his bed. Her scent and heat surrounded him like a sensual miasma. The magic and memory of this night swirled a potent brew that would drown him in heady passion. He rolled atop her into the white slant of the moon’s glow.
She wasn’t wondering at his thoughts anymore−his body tensed and tightened, felt the cup of his hand upon her cheek, and before she could speak, he kissed her, forcefully, seductively, denying any chance of protest. In response, she weaved her soft arms about his neck, splaying her fingers down his shoulders and back. He liked her free response, moving her hands everywhere to pleasure him.
A hand upon his chest, she pushed him back to his elbows. She leaned over him, her hair veiling them in a canopy of silk.
“Hungry?” she teased.
“Starving.”
When her lips met his, he needed no urging to part his own. Her soft breasts pushed into his chest. When he entered her, her eyes closed and he saw the soft sweep of her lashes and heard the soft pleading moans as she cried out for him in a sweet pinnacle of release.
How much more entranced could he be? Devon exhaled and glanced at the sky framed through the doors. Night still lingered in the west where the dark purple strip was studded with stars, but eastward the upper lobe of the sun peeked over the horizon. From now on, with his wife sleeping next to him, he would love to see the sun come up over the horizon and spread across the water.
Claire had always been his and their lay a certain male satisfaction of pride in that fact. She was his wife in every word and deed. The vows were spoken, and consummated. In fact, the way they couldn’t get enough of each other, it would not be long before she came to him and announced she would have their child.His child. The belief and joy of that occurrence lie beyond his wildest imagination. All her barriers of fear had faded away, and now she embraced him with a delight that filled him with a tenderness so deep he ached inside.
Then why this bothersome doubt that ran frigid along his spine?
He didn’t know, nor did he care. He curled against her, holding the woman he cherished tight against him.
