He should have been filled with abhorrence. Disgust or despair. None of those emotions came calling. Instead, Nathaniel had never felt so powerful, so free—so alive.
Groaning, they clutched each other, all lips and bruising hands, clasping, drowning. Hawk lifted Nathaniel clear off his feet, wrapping him in his arms, their mouths desperate, tongues devouring as they stumbled about.
Nathaniel broke free, lungs burning as he propelled Hawk toward the trees and into the darkness. Hawk grunted as his back hit a wide trunk, the gleam of his eyes just visible under the umbrella of palm trees. Nathaniel bit at his lips, kissing him feverishly, all teeth and spit.
He muttered, “I don’t believe anything you said this morning. This is real.” He tore open Hawk’s wet shirt and spread his hands over his chest, digging his fingers into the tattoo he knew was there. Hair scratched his palms. “We’re real.”
Inhaling loudly, Hawk pushed him away a step and spun him around against the tree. The bark was surprisingly smooth as Nathaniel’s back crashed into it. His head didn’t impact at all, cushioned by Hawk’s big hand.
Hawk kissed him, moaning into Nathaniel’s mouth and rutting against him, all muscle and bone and desperation, lips hot. Nathaniel’s cock ached, and he tried to hook his leg up over Hawk’s thigh for more friction, the lingering seawater from Hawk’s swim dampening Nathaniel’s trousers too, the coolness welcome on his fevered flesh.
Hawk’s free hand gripped his waist and lifted him like he was weightless, his other hand still behind Nathaniel’s head as he pummeled their hips together, groaning and growling.
Between messy, wet, glorious kisses, little cries escaped Nathaniel as he wrapped his legs around Hawk’s hips, their pricks like rock through the layers of their trousers. He wanted to feel hot flesh but was powerless to stop, the thought of parting even for a few moments impossible to contemplate.
He sucked on Hawk’s tongue as they drove against each other. Nothing else existed but their gasping, shameless hunt for release, mouths fused, teeth clashing, slick lips swollen.
The pressure in Nathaniel’s groin sparked fire, gunpowder surging through his veins. He wanted to tell Hawk to fuck him, longed to be stretched by his cock again, burned from the inside out.
But he still couldn’t bear to break away from their kisses, chasing Hawk’s very essence with his tongue, the dam broken, finally tasting his mouth. He clung to Hawk’s shoulders but dragged one hand down to his chest, raking his nails over the tattoo, making his own mark.
Hawk tore his mouth away from Nathaniel’s with a shout, shuddering and jerking against him, spilling in his wet trousers. He pressed their foreheads together, lips grazing, and Nathaniel tightened his legs around him, lungs tight.
“That’s it,” Hawk muttered, breath hot on Nathaniel’s mouth. “Spend for me.” Hawk fucked against him with renewed vigor even though he’d already released, fingers tightening in Nathaniel’s curls.
Nathaniel’s ecstasy gripped and shook him, a predator with its helpless prey. He could only whimper into Hawk’s mouth as he pulsed, the burn of pleasure scouring him, leaving him limp against the tree, Hawk’s hand warm in his sweat-slick hair, still protecting his head.
They panted, noses touching, chests heaving. With a groan, Nathaniel unhooked his legs from Hawk’s waist, Hawk helping to ease him to his feet. Neither of them was steady, and they remained leaning against the shelter of the tree.
“Only you,” Nathaniel whispered.
Hawk traced Nathaniel’s lips with his fingertips, then leaned their foreheads together, stooping to wrap him in his arms. Nathaniel held on, twisting his fingers into the ends of Hawk’s damp hair.
When they kissed again, the hint of blood and battle still lingered. But in the embers of the fire that had raged, in the slow, entreating sweep of tongues and now-gentle pressure of lips, in the soft moans and sighs, Nathaniel tasted only love.
Chapter Nineteen
“Heave!”
The coarse line dug into Hawk’s palms as they yanked, the ship inching upright. To the east, the sky was finally dark again, the smoldering orange light extinguished, but soon enough the sun would appear.
All hands toiled to bring The Damned Manta to rights, the remaining, vanquished men of the Javelin knowing they had no choice but to help with their captain dead and ship destroyed, the explosion visible for miles. They were all in equal danger, the Royal Navy always lurking.
Beside him, Nathaniel winced, gritting his teeth, and Hawk knew he’d pull until his hands dripped red. Pride flowed, and he ached to hold him, to lose himself for a few blissful minutes before returning to their toil.
Oh, to kiss Nathaniel again, even though their mouths were both swollen and bruised.
It sent a shiver down his spine although his skin was damp with sweat in the warm night. The way Nathaniel had flung himself into his arms, yanked down his head, and pressed their lips together.