“I love you, Rosamund Bailey, you are mine,” I promised.
A whimper broke from her, and her pace grew frantic, desperate. Without warning, she dropped her mouth to mine, and god, I wasn’t ready for the taste of her. The way her tongue flew into mine, hungry, claiming. Without saying a word, she was screaming, mine, mine, mine.
I met her with equal claim, refusing to allow her a moment’s respite from the knowledge that she belonged to me just as much as I to her. She tasted of cherry and wine, sweet and addictive. Grinding my hips against her, she cried out into my mouth, but it was mine for the taking. I swallowed it whole and lifted into her hard enough to see stars.
She pulled back, but I held her with my hand around the back of her neck. I wanted to see her break. To fall over the cavern of our making when the words hit her.
Her eyes pleaded with me, begging me for the release she danced over. The only one I could give her.
“I love you,” I said.
Her pupils dilated as she clenched around me, falling with the sound of my name on her lips. She was stunning when she came. It was in the way her mouth fell open and her cheeks flushed, the uptilt of her nose. She was everything, and before I knew it, I was falling with her, pleasure erupting throughout me like the stars at midnight.
When we landed together, she collapsed into my arm and fought to catch her breath while my own chest, slick with sweat, heaved. I wrapped my arm around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. I was a man lost and found.
Wherever she went, I’d be beside her.
She was mine, but more than that, I was hers.
For better or for worse.
Chapter twenty-one
Brunch
Rose
In a single day and night of misfortune, the mighty Atlantis sank beneath the sea and vanished.
— Plato, Timaeus
“We could fake his death,” Oliver said.
The clack of wood punctuated the audacity of his sentence as he knocked over one of Oscar’s chess pieces.
“Very rude,” Oscar chided.
“Agreed.” I sniffed, snapping my book shut.
Seas knew I hadn’t comprehended a single word in the last hour. Any minute, I would face the most terrifying situation of my life.
My family meeting my fiancé.
“I didn’t mean about faking Bash’s death. It’s actually a decent plan because then he would be free to go back to being the scourge of the deep, but do you know what’s funny about that? He’s not even scary. I actually think he might be one of the most decent men I’ve ever met. Kind of comical when you think about it. Anyways, no, I was referring to Oliver taking my knight.” Oscar explained thoughtfully.
Our family drawing room was just as ever, but somehow felt smaller. I distinctly remembered the white and blue floral wallpaper climbing up the walls to reach a ceiling that nearly touched the sky. In fact, I was sure the fireplace, which crackled and gave off waves of heat, was smaller as well. Maybe it was me. At least the smell was the same. Florals and lemons that sank into the fabric of the couch I couldn’t get comfortable on.
Across from me, Ruby sat on an identical couch, her delicate hands fastidiously manipulating the needle in her hand to add to the sailboat stitch she was working on. It was meant for her oldest son, who recently discovered a love of sailing, though he was not allowed on any ship. Ruby’s worry would not allow it.
“I think it’s a decent plan, but would it stop you from galavanting off to join him at sea, Oscar?” Ruby asked, eyes never rising from her project.
“I’m right here.” I sniffed.
“Ah! Avenged my knight.” Oscar gloated. “As to your question, dear sister, I am no longer meant for polite society. I’ve gone too feral.”
Oscar? Feral? I scoffed, which everyone ignored as if I were invisible after all. Oscar was barely a pirate at all.
“I sank three ships in the last three months. That’s one ship per month.” I said.
