“It’s like a calling?” When he nodded, Farah’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as realization blossomed. As much as she adored the daring explorer before her, marrying him meant a life of long separations, as he indulged his thirst for adventure while she remained at home. Was that the life she truly desired? She wavered, her heart and mind engaged in a fierce debate over the sacrifices such a union would demand.
Could she go with him? Once children came that would not be ideal. But worse still, he’d never suggested it. Why?
“Would you consider taking a wife with you on your travels.”
It was as if she’d asked him to sell his soul to the devil. His jaw firmed. “No. I’d never allow that.”
“Why?”
He seemed to have gone to another place. He looked back out at sea. “It’s too dangerous. Remember Mrs. Ahearn’s talk of my fiancé Charlotte?” She nodded. “She died in my arms on my ship. I’ll not suffer that again.” His words were so final, she had nothing more to ask. But her heart sank. He had to love her enough to stay or she would always be left behind.
To make this man love her more than his driving need to conquer the world seemed a daunting task. She looked up at the beauty and wonder of the stars. Then looked at Rockwell. Like the stars, he took her breath away. She wondered, when he looked at her, what did he see? Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough to entice him away from his mistress, the sea.
She took a deep breath. “Perhaps I should turn to Lucien should a scandal erupt upon our return. Like you say, we are so different. A marriage between us wouldn’t work. We don’t work.”
He ran his finger over her palm. “There is one place we are very compatible.”
She shivered under his light touch, noticing he hadn’t blinked an eye at her suggestion. Memories of what they’d shared in bed flashed in her head. Not with Lucien. She couldn’t picture giving herself to Lucien in the same way. “But is that enough?” The question was really for her, but Rockwell answered.
Rockwell turned her into his arms and drew her into the shadows. He leaned toward her and there was a wealth of restraint in his touch as he plied her mouth with soft, seductive kisses, nipping gently at her bottom lip, teasing her with light little pecks to the corner of her lips.
Even his touch surprised her. A soft hand on her cheek and another on her shoulder as he held her motionless for his tender assault. It was as if he cherished every moment with her.
She should stop him. This would not help either of them.
He coaxed her lips open. His tongue flicked to touch hers, then entered.
The invasive intimacy sent deep, visceral thrills down to her hips. It served as a stark reminder of how susceptible she was to this man’s tender touch, to Rockwell’s seduction.
He covered her face with soft caresses from his lips. She was glad for the brace of his arm holding her in place, keeping her from leaning into him. Her body was traitorous, yearning for something that wasn’t good for her. This man knew how to strum her body, knew how to make her feel things she should only feel for a man who loved her.
And it was only a kiss.
He drew back, holding her gaze as he used his thumb to nudge her lips apart. Her blood quickened as she watched him, and without hesitation, she moved her tongue forward, sliding it against the tip of his thumb.
Her breasts rose and fell rapidly while his eyes glinted with heat.
He bent her over his arm and placed little kisses down her slender, exposed neck, making her breathing grow shallower and faster. He gently tugged at the low bodice of her gown until her breasts popped free, all the while kissing the skin of the breasts he exposed. She did not protest or struggle.
He stopped his kisses as one turgid, dark pink nipple was uncovered and it was he who suddenly could not breathe. He stared for several moments before blowing gently on it. She shivered in his arms. He could no more stop his mouth from tasting than he could stop breathing.
As he wrapped his lips around the hot flesh and suckled deep, Farah moaned in his arms. Rockwell was not selfish. He laved each nipple separately but with equal abandon. He picked her up and carried her to a chest deep in the shadows, laying her down like the prize she was. Just then, the moon cleared the clouds, and he drank in the vision of perfection. He ran his hands down her sides and slowly raised the skirts of her gown up to her waist. She did not protest. She had a waist that required no corset to give it shape; the fair curls shielding her womanhood beckoned his fingers, and her long, shapely legs made him think of riding—her thighs gripping his hips and riding him hard.
He reached out a finger and ran it from her breastbone to her pubic bone, coming to rest in her fair curls. He kept staring, the image before him one he would never in his life forget even when he left her and sailed away into the life he wanted. Venus. She was his real-life Venus and his body longed to worship her. He cupped her womanhood, the heat from her intoxicating. His mouth watered at the idea of tasting her.
Her body tensed beneath his hands as he bent towards her womanly core, but she merely closed her eyes and moaned.
Then he let his tongue work its magic. Her hips lifted to meet his mouth, and she tasted of the sweetest nectar.
She gasped for air and could not look away from the erotic sight. He loved how her eyes darkened in her need for release.
“So responsive. So much passion we could share forever,” he whispered in her ear before his lips traced butterfly-kisses down her neck.
She could not look away from the sight and she inwardly admitted watching was—arousing. Farah swallowed back a moan of pleasure. She felt as if her body were on fire. She barely noticed that her hips were moving in time to his strokes of his fingers.
His long, elegant finger entered her and made his knuckles brush her hardened nub. It was both agony and pleasure.
His fingers were moving faster, and her hips moved frantically. She watched herself riding his fingers. His eyes were hard and dark as he watched her. She could barely breathe. Her heart pounded in her chest. He pressed his thumb against her hardened nub and said, “Beautiful. Truly as magical as the stars.”
