They averted their eyes but the smile that played on each man’s lips told him they knew what he was about. Could they blame him? A beautiful woman was about to be naked in his quarters.
Just then, Bridget came down the narrow hall too, pressing against the wood wall to let the sailors by. He squinted his eyes wondering why she wasn’t in his room already when he noticed she held a small vile in her hand.
Their eyes met and he held out his hand toward her. As the last sailor past, tipping his hat, she started for him, grasping his large hand in her smaller one.
He opened the door and shut it behind them, closing the lock. Bridget crossed to the tub, the floors squeaking under her feet. She was still dressed but her fingers trailed over the water. Then she uncorked the vile with a soft pop and poured in a few drops of the liquid.
Immediately the room filled with her sweet scent. A touch of citrus, tickling his nose. “What is it? I’ve smelled it on you before.” He crossed to run his hand in the water and lifted it to his nose.
“I mix it myself,” she murmured. “Clove for Scotland, cinnamon for England, and orange for the exotic places I’ve never been.”
He drew in a deep breath. This went against his plans but the urge to make her happy outweighed his need to tuck her away. “I could take you to those exotic places.”
She gave him a glowing smile. “That does sound lovely. Not like a cage at all.”
He started on the buttons of her dress. “Definitely not a cage.” Maybe there was hope for him after all. A lightness filled his chest at the thought. He pulled open the last button and began tugging off the sleeves of her dress.
As their clothing dropped away, they stopped talking, their lips far too busy to utter words. Matt lifted Bridget, placing her in the bath. Then he grabbed the bar of soap hanging from the side and began to lather her skin.
It slid over the supple curves of her body as he knelt over her as he washed, feeling each flare and indentation as though her lines as if he were studying a map. Only this map moved and as his hand slid between her legs, she arched against him, grasping the edge of the tub as she gave a low moan.
With a deep rumble, he pulled his hand away and finished washing her then held out a large cloth for her to dry herself. As she stepped into it, he captured her lips and then commanded. “Don’t move.”
She wrapped in the cloth and raised one eyebrow. “So demanding.”
He stepped into the tub and quickly washed himself as she began to dry each area of her body. The view only added to his hunger for her. Had it only been a few hours since they’d been together? It felt like days or weeks.
He stepped out of the tub and stalked toward her, holding out his hand for the cloth but she stepped away. “Are you going to say please?”
Then she turned and walked away, leaving him dripping wet. “Woman, I am going to—”
“Use the word please?” She gave him a smile over her shoulder as the cloth dipped lower. His manhood swelled at the sight.
“Please,” he asked, grinding out the word between his teeth.
She turned back to him, and unwrapping the cloth from herself, she began to dry him in the same methodical fashion she’d just used on her own body.
She worked the cloth over every inch of him, coming to his throbbing member last. Dropping to her knees, she gently placed a kiss on the tip. “Thank you for asking so nicely.” Then she kissed the head again.
He was pulsing with desire. Another time, he’d teach her about that sort of pleasure. Hooking his arms under her armpits, he hauled her body against his. “Ye’re welcome.”
Then lifting her, her legs wrapped about his waist, he pushed inside her soft center until they both moaned. Grasping her sweet rear, he lifted her up and back down his staff.
“I feel like that was our first successful attempt at compromise,” she moaned as he filled her again.
He lifted her. Hell and fire she filled him with desire. “If this is compromise than I am an enthusiastic participant.”
She let out a half laugh before it turned into a gasp. “Our marriage will be a success then.”
In the back of Matt’s mind, he wondered if this had been a test. Had he passed? He couldn’t think on it further as his need roared inside him, consuming his every thought.
It was a worry for later. Much later.
Chapter Fourteen
Bridget stood on the deck of the ship, trying not to grin from ear to ear but failing miserably. They were set to marry in just a few minutes but Matt had insisted on completing a task first. Naming the new ship.
He currently hung by a rope, secured under his legs and around his waist a he scratched the ship’s new name on its bow with a piece of coal. Bridget.