Page 74 of Much Ado about a Widow

“Aye, Captain.”

Hurrying to Georgie, Rob slowed before he reached her, then stole up behind her and slid his arms around her.

She must have heard him because she didn’t jump with surprise. Instead she crossed her arms over his and leaned back against him.

“How are you doing so far, sweetheart?”

“Not too badly, but then the ship isn’t acting like a bucking horse either.” She clutched his arms tighter around her. “I am rather sorry we had to leave so hastily that I couldn’t bring Clara with me. I hadn’t thought before, but now I don’t know what I will do if I become ill again.”

“I will take care of you, my love. In sickness and in health, remember?” Kissing the top of her head, he breathed in the slight lavender scent that always clung to her hair. He would look forward to that delight for the rest of his life. He bent slightly so his mouth was directly beside her ear. “Besides, I have a new idea about how to distract you from becoming ill, Mrs. Captain. Can you guess what it is?”

“Hmmm.” She snuggled her back into his front until he was positive she could feel his shaft bumping into her, even through the heavy pea coat. “I could guess, but I think it would be much more instructive if you showed it to me, Captain.”

Growling and hoping Ayers didn’t turn and see how quickly they were making for the gangway, Rob grabbed her hand and pulled her along, her laughter floating out over the open sea.

Once below, he swung her around until her back hit the side of the corridor, and he sunk his mouth onto hers, unable to wait another moment to taste her lips. He slipped between those lips and drank in the deliciously soft feeling of her cheeks and tongue. They needed to continue on to their cabin. It would not do at all for the crew to see them acting so absolutely wanton in broad daylight. With Herculean effort, he pulled away from her and seized her hand. “Hurry, before I explode, sweetheart. You will ruin me if I cannot have you in the next few moments.”

They ran pell-mell down the corridor, shoving open his cabin door and slamming it shut. Let the men think what they would. All kinds of noises occurred on a ship.

Rob ripped his jacket open and buttons flew.

The pea coat had hit the floor with a soft plop, then Georgie’s back was to him. “Buttons please.”

Restraining himself from ripping the bodice open, he fumbled with the infernal buttons, a mercifully short row of them. He unlaced the stays as well, revealing her chemise and the exquisite slope of her neck. Burying his face in her nape, he kissed and nipped his way down her back, bringing squeals of delight that transformed into guttural moans by the time he’d pushed the garment completely off her shoulders. It slithered to the floor, and she stood naked and beautiful before him. Panting hard, he stopped and drank his fill of the sight of her.

A body blush crept up from her hips, spreading through her thicket of red curls, over her stomach, around her breasts—the peaks of her nipples furled into tight points—and finally up her neck to brighten her cheeks.

Rob fell to his knees, eyes staring at the tiny indentation in her stomach, then straying down to the ruby red jewel in front of him. Sliding his hands up her thighs and around to her bottom, he cupped the firm derriere and inexorably urged her forward until her body met his eager mouth.

Breathing slowly and deeply, she rested her hands on his head and gently pressed him forward.

He inhaled the special scent that was her, that was woman, and had to fight bitterly the urge to take her here and now. That would come later; this was now and just for her. So he concentrated on where he touched her, how he would pleasure her. A hesitant kiss on her mons turned into a deep lick that drew a moan from her. He tried that again, opening her legs just enough to allow him further access to all of her most secret parts.

Her moans had intensified, becoming more guttural, and her legs trembled, as though they could scarcely hold her up.

With his tongue he searched through her soft flesh for the exactly right spot and pressed, then drew her into his mouth and sucked.

She flew apart, crying out as her legs jerked beneath her. Fisting her hands in his hair, she anchored herself as he did it again. The tempest struck her more intensely this time for she cried out louder and longer, straining against him until she slumped, and he steadied her.

Still he needed to hurry if his own body’s needs were to be met. The urgency brought about by her cries had brought him almost past the point of control. “Sweetheart? Are you all right?”

Slowly she fought for balance, then straightened. “I don’t quite know.” Unsteady, she staggered over to the bed and dropped facedown on the bunk.

The sight of her uncovered bottom spread across his bed, a waiting invitation if ever he’d seen one, sent a frenzy of lust through Rob. He sprang to his feet, dragged his shirt over his head, and unbuttoned his fall—to hell with the boots—all in the time it took him to reach the bed. Bending over her, he whispered urgently in her ear. “Sweetheart, are you ready for me?” God knew he’d been ready for her for hours.

A sweet smile spread across her lips. “Oh, yes, Rob. Yes, my love.” To convince him, she opened her legs wider. As if he needed convincing.

Mindful that he needed to be gentle despite his great need, Rob swept her legs open a little more, positioned himself, and pressed forward in a slow, deep slide that seated him firmly inside her. He held his breath, fought to hold on, willed himself not to spill his seed on the very first thrust.

“You feel so good, Rob. Ahh, do that again.”

Her little moan undid him.

“My pleasure, love.” He pumped hard and fast, letting himself go, pouring his essence into her as their cries echoed in the cabin.

Panting so hard he could scarcely breathe, Rob slid out and flopped down beside her, boneless and utterly spent. If someone attacked the ship at this moment he’d be of no earthly use to anyone. He’d just have to pray no one attacked.

Georgie turned over, then curled up beside him, her eyelids heavy. “Rob?”