Kidnapped by the Pirate

Hawk murmured, “Careful. How does your shoulder feel this morning?”

Nathaniel licked his dry lips, voice froggy. “All right. Still sore, but not too bad. The surgeon knows what he’s about.”

Hawk choked down the irrational stab of resentment directed toward good Mr. Pickering. It was insane to have been jealous of him trying to remove Nathaniel’s shirt.

But the thought of any other man touching Nathaniel sparked fire in his blood that drew his itchy fingers to his cutlass handle.

What is this madness?

Exhaling out the tension and managing an easy tone, Hawk tapped Nathaniel’s head lightly. “And how’s this?”

“Mmm. Rather…heavy.”

Hawk chuckled. “Have you ever had rum before?”

“No. Wine with late dinners, some scotch or port, but only to sip.”

“I thought as much. You handled it manfully. The men were impressed.”

Nathaniel grimaced. “Until I spewed all over you. I’m so sorry.”

He should feign the expected anger, but only shrugged. “I’ve suffered worse.”

“And now I’ve gotten that gunk all over you and your bed, haven’t I?” He patted Hawk’s chest, apparently trying to find traces of the offending poultice. “You should have left me in the corner.”

Hawk ignored that. “No more heroics, and no more rum, or at least less of the latter.”

Nathaniel’s hand still rested on his chest, caressing. Hawk should roll away, find fresh clothes, clean his boots, and get on deck. Eight bells had already rung for the change of watch at four, then one bell half an hour later, then two after another thirty minutes, marking the progression of the watch.

Yet he found himself staring down at Nathaniel, his own hand smoothing rhythmically down Nathaniel’s side and over his hip. Soon three bells would chime.

“Do you like the men?” Nathaniel murmured.

Hawk wasn’t sure he’d heard the question correctly. “Do I…like them?”

“Mmm. You don’t seem to speak to them unless giving orders.”

“I… Well, they are a necessity to operate a ship. I care for their futures, such as they may be. As long as they are loyal to me, I shall be to them.”

“But not friends. Brothers.”

The echo of John’s impish smile flitted through his mind and was gone. “Once, perhaps. But as captain, I must hold myself removed.” Snell was a friend—of a sort. Hawk trusted him. Depended on him to keep the peace. “As long as our goals are aligned, the men and I are in accord with one another. That’s all that matters.”

“Sounds lonely.”

Nathaniel’s fingertips teased the hair on Hawk’s chest before tracing up the vulnerable skin of his throat. When Hawk swallowed, Nathaniel’s fingers charted the movement of his Adam’s apple. His heart drummed so hard he was certain Nathaniel could hear it.

Those clever fingers ghosted over his face—circling his mouth, following the slope of his nose, then seeking something by his temple, exploring until they found the raised skin of the jagged scar, following the old wound back and forth, back and forth.

Nathaniel’s bow lips were parted just a fraction, and it would be so easy to lean down and claim them. So easy to lose himself and discover what sweet noises he could coax using only his mouth…

Enough!

Lungs seizing, he caught Nathaniel’s wrist, pressing it back to the mattress as Nathaniel watched. Hawk wouldn’t kiss him—he’d already gone too far adrift, and time was running out.

He had to find his way back to the shore by the time they reached Primrose Isle; by the time he would return Nathaniel to the life he’d interrupted and collect his ransom. Nathaniel couldn’t be anything more to him than a means to an end.

What if Walter Bainbridge doesn’t pay up? I’ve promised the men bloodshed if not. Sworn to murder Nathaniel.

Hawk shoved the worry aside, schooling his wayward mind and taking a long breath to calm the sudden gallop of his heart. Bainbridge would pay, Nathaniel would return to his family unharmed, and that would be the end of it. In the meantime…

No, Hawk wouldn’t kiss him, but he’d put his lips to work. What was the harm? Had Nathaniel ever experienced the hot slick of a mouth around his cock? Hawk presumed not, since he’d said his prick was untouched by anything but his own hand.

Hawk shifted on top of him, urging his legs apart to rest between them. Pressing his face to Nathaniel’s chest, he wasted no time and latched onto a nipple, pride surging at the shocked gasp. No, Hawk wouldn’t kiss him, but he would lay claim to this.

Nathaniel squirmed. “Feels good. Oh, Lord.”

Hawk flicked his tongue against the nub of sensitive flesh. “Only devils here.” Nathaniel bucked, his swelling cock seeking friction. “Patience,” Hawk chided, draping his arm over Nathaniel’s hips, just out of reach of his member. “Not too much vigor. You’re recuperating, remember?”

“This is good medicine for a headache.”

Huffing out a laugh, Hawk felt strangely light as he kissed and sucked, teasing Nathaniel’s nipples until any more might be painful. He smiled against Nathaniel’s belly, rubbing his beard over the soft skin with hard muscle beneath, dipping his tongue into the indentation where he’d been linked to his mother.