Page 118 of Scandalous

“You are greedy,” he said, adding a second finger. The surprise of it drew a gasp from her.

“Shh.” He caressed her neck with his tongue, nibbling the taut column of her throat while his thumb moved in languid circles around the sensitive bud he knew so well. He covered her with his body, stroking yet another wave of pleasure out of her while his knees nudged hers farther apart. “I cannot wait any longer, my sweet,” he whispered, entering her in a slow, hard thrust. He held her in a grip like iron, his body controlled as he worked her deeply and thoroughly.

Sarah rose with him, wrapping her legs around his waist and tightening, the motion drawing a loud groan and several rapid thrusts before he cried out her name.

He froze for one long moment before collapsing on her chest, shuddering while he spent and filled her with heat.

Her hands ranged over his skin, damp from his efforts, the slickness making the exploration of his contours even more exciting, the weight of his big, warm body a pleasure she could not live without. She caressed his back, arms, shoulders, her right hand resting on the brand before moving to his roughened jaw.

He murmured something too soft for her to hear, kissed the palm of her hand, and then fell asleep.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Martín woke with a start; for an instant he thought that he was in the rooms he kept at Venetia’s. He looked through sleep-crusted eyes and saw he was in his cabin.

He’d been having a dream. Sarah . . . He propped himself up and surveyed the cabin, his heart in his mouth until he saw her discarded clothing on the floor.

She was real. She had been here.

But where was she now?

He yanked his banyan from his wardrobe and tied it around his waist before striding to the cabin door. The knob twisted beneath his hand, and the door pushed against him.

Sarah stood in the doorway, her arms burdened with a large tray.

“Here, I will take that.” Martín lifted the tray from her hands and stepped aside to allow her to enter.

“You are most kind, Captain.”

Martín was pleased to see she was wearing feminine garb again. But he would keep her other outfit in his wardrobe for his own viewing pleasure.

He set down the tray and frowned. “You are not to fetch your own food. I have a crew for that purpose.”

She came closer, until they were almost touching, and then placed her hands on his chest, giving him a light push that sent him into the padded booth behind him.

“It just so happens it pleases me to serve you. Besides, I would prefer not to receive your crew in a state of undress. And I wanted to let you rest. I believe you greatly needed it.” She flushed, as if recalling how he’d exerted himself.

He caught her around her slim waist and pulled her into his lap.

“Sit nicely and stop your squirming,” he chided. “I want to kiss you.”

“But your food will get cold.”

“Mm hmm,” he murmured into her neck. He ran his hands over her body to assure himself she was really here. She slipped her arms around his neck and lowered her hot mouth over his. Her clever tongue darted between his lips and teased. Mon Dieu! She was a quick study. He shifted her delicious bottom so she could feel his excitement.

“Oh, Martín,” she whispered against his mouth, their hot breath mingling while they stared into each other’s eyes. “You have the loveliest eyes I have ever seen. They are the color of a falcon’s—gold.”

A strange heat suffused his neck and face at her words.

She gasped and took his face in her hands. “What’s this? Have I made you blush?”

“Nonsense,” he grunted dismissively, and scooped her into his arms before striding the few steps to the bed. She laughed and beat her fists uselessly on his chest.

“Martín! You must eat—you need to keep up your strength.”

“Do I look as if I am lacking strength?” He threw her onto the bed before pulling at the belt that held his robe closed and shrugging it from his shoulders.

Her eyes settled between his legs, and her pupils flared.