Katherine pulled against her bonds. They were not so tight that she was completely immobilized, and she found she could move somewhat.
He strode to her and hooked the center of the neckline of her gown with the dagger. Katherine began to comprehend his intentions and she froze in shock. He slid the dagger slowly through the faded blue silk, down between her breasts. Katherine watched the blade and whimpered. Her ribbon-edged shift was revealed. The knife moved down her torso, down her stomach, and between her legs. Katherine did not move a muscle, did not breathe. He slashed then quickly down to her toes. He had cut her gown in half. But she had not felt the knife, not even once.
“Stop,” Katherine said hoarsely. Her breasts were heaving, and every breath she took so laboriously parted her cut gown even more.
He eyed the expanse of her linen-bound breasts, stared at her protruding nipples. His gaze moved to hers, and then he hooked the tip of his knife in the shift. Katherine tensed. Still looking into her eyes, he began to move the knife between her breasts.
Katherine gasped, watching as a swath of ivory skin was revealed as her underclothes were sliced in half. Cool air followed in the wake of his dagger. Very carefully, very slowly, he slid the knife down her torso and stomach and between her legs. A moment later he had sliced her petticoats in two.
Katherine was panting. All that was left intact upon her was her open, crotchless drawers. His gaze lifted to hers. It glittered wildly, but his face was formed into harsh lines. Katherine could not look away, nor could she breathe.
He hooked the tip of the dagger in the center of the lace-trimmed waistband, revealing her navel. Katherine stared at the glinting knife. She could not tear her gaze from the silver blade as it began to shred the fine lawn material, moving down her belly, revealing the nest of auburn hair as it paused between her thighs. Just barely she could feel the cool blade between her legs.
His gaze lifted abruptly. Silver smoke. Katherine made another sound, wet her dry lips nervously. Every nerve ending she had seemed to be swollen, throbbing madly.
His jaw flexed. He then quickly slashed a line down the inside of each leg. He sheathed the knife, and met her wide, unblinking gaze.
Then he reached down and pushed open the two halves of her dress and shift, revealing first her full, heaving breasts, then her slender rib cage, the nest of dark auburn curls at the juncture of her thighs, and then the long length of her pale legs.
Katherine sucked in her breath. It had become feverishly hot in the cabin, making it difficult to breathe. She opened her mouth to tell him to stop, but only wound up tossing her head from one side to the other. Her whole body undulated as her head moved.
“You are beautiful, Katherine,” he said hoarsely, sitting beside her. His hand swept over one breast and Katherine gasped. Her nipple was already taut, but it seemed to swell as his palm caressed it. She had never dreamed that a man’s hand would feel this way against her naked skin. “You wear your gowns too tight, hiding the bounty you are blessed with.” He rolled her nipple, caught her eye.
“You like that, Katherine?”
Katherine shook her head no.
He laughed, sudden and abrupt. “Then you are either a liar, or a fool.” His gaze moved to her other nipple, which he plucked gently. “I know you are no fool, sweetheart.”
Katherine stared, torn between dismay and desire, as he bent and flicked his tongue over her nipples, one by one. She was lost. Her eyes closed and she moaned, long and low, earthily.
He murmured an endearment and began to suckle her. Katherine began to writhe. The more he laved and teased her, the more he sucked, the more anguished her aching sex became. Katherine gasped, cried out, twisting beneath him. She was shocked when her hands came free of her bonds. She did not dwell upon the realization that, somehow, he had cut her free. Instead she gripped his head, moaning, pressing him closer to her breasts.
But he dragged his head down. Katherine cried out. He kissed her belly, her navel. Katherine had wrapped her long legs around him, and she pumped her hips toward him furiously. But she stilled when his hand cupped her sex.
She was panting. He was still nibbling her belly, but his fingers were separating the thick, wet folds of her flesh. Katherine gasped as he rubbed her there, crying out as his thumb stroked inside their folds, then flickered over her clitoris.
She moaned and thrashed. Dimly she was aware that his kisses were becoming dangerous, for as he played with her sex his head moved lower and lower. She froze when his mouth brushed the thatch of pubic hair. She did not move as his lips kissed the inside of her thigh, his face brushing the cleft he had been just toying with.
He kissed the cleft.
Katherine gasped his name.
He parted her and kissed her again, languidly. Katherine moved. She pumped against him. Holding her open, he stroked her with his expert tongue. Katherine cried out. And cried out and cried out, as a huge and terrible wave of anguish built and became pleasure which crested and finally crashed over her.
She sagged into the bed. Ecstasy faded, pleasure ebbed. Katherine became aware of the feel of his silken hair in her hands—which she clenched tightly. She became aware of the feel of his scratchy cheek, pressed against her inner thigh. She became aware of his fingers, which still fluttered over her sex.
In one stunning moment, she realized what she had done. As she had predicted, her body had welcomed him eagerly. Although he was a bloody pirate and the son of the notorious rapist Shane O’Neill, although she was betrothed to another, she had welcomed him, had been on fire for him—and as he had said, he had not had to rape her.
Nor would he have to. He need only use that cunning tongue of his, and within moments she would be begging for his cock.
Katherine twisted onto her side with a sob, only to realize her legs were still tied to the bed. She subsided onto her back, covering her face with her hands, telling herself that she would not weep now in shame in front of him.
“Katherine?”
It was no use. Katherine sobbed into her hands.
Liam raised his head from her leg. She felt him looking at her. “Why in God’s name do you weep?” he asked harshly.
