A Most Unconventional Courtship

If he even heard her incoherent pleas she had no idea; it seemed nothing was going to stop the skilled assault on her very core. She knew she was wantonly lifting herself into the sweet torture of his mouth, yearning towards whatever was twisting every nerve into screaming arousal. It would kill her—she could not be this tense, this consumed with sensation, and live.

Then, as though understanding she could bear no more, his demanding tongue ceased. For a moment she seemed to hang there, suspended in a whirlpool of desire, then his lips fastened on the aching centre of it, suckled ruthlessly, and the world broke apart.

Alessa broke with it, every part of her limp and quivering, her head empty of everything but a silent shout of love and completion. How long she lay there, abandoned to the impact of it all, she had no idea. Gradually she became aware of warmth next to her cheek, of the scratch of stubble, of breath stirring her hair.

‘I want to hold you,’ Chance murmured.

‘I want you to,’ she confessed, her eyes still tight shut. ‘Chance, that was like nothing I ever imagined.’

‘I wanted to pleasure you,’ he informed her huskily.

‘You succeeded,’ Alessa responded with a shaky laugh. Somehow she managed to open her eyes and found herself looking into the dark depths of his, only inches away. ‘Chance, you made love to me—but what about you?’

He straightened up and sat back on his heels beside the bunk. ‘I may be able to pleasure my lady with both hands tied behind my back, but not being a contortionist I cannot remove my trousers or undo the fall in this state.’

My lady. Alessa recalled the awe-inspiring sensation of his body pressed against her. ‘Isn’t it rather uncomfortable?’ she ventured, struggling to sit up. Unexpected, intimate parts of her body rippled with the aftershocks of her passion and she felt weaker than she had after they had dragged her out of the harbour.

‘Very,’ he confessed ruefully. ‘But unrequited desire is probably the least of my problems right at the moment.’ He swept a tender glance down from her face—which she could feel was glowing—down the length of her body. ‘Hell!’

‘What?’ That was hardly the reaction she was expecting. Then she followed his gaze. ‘Oh, my heavens!’

Her breasts were exposed, the drawstrings of both chemise and gown tangled and knotted, her skirts were round her waist and her hair was all over her face.

The next ten minutes, if they had not know the likely consequences of Chance being discovered, would have been as hysterical as any stage farce. Chance shook the tangled ribbons like a terrier with a rat in its teeth until he had untangled them, then wrestled with making the first part of the knot without hitting Alessa on the chin with his head. He did not always succeed, but after the first few blows, all of which seemed to find precisely the point where Zagrede had struck her, she gave up yelping in pain and concentrated on keeping still.

Finally Chance managed to slip one chemise ribbon through the other and lifted it towards her mouth. ‘You hold this,’he mumbled, ‘I’ll pull.’ Their lips met and Alessa froze, fighting the need to simply press her mouth to his and drown in his kiss. The brown eyes so close to hers sparkled with mischief. ‘No,’ he said, as firmly as a man with a mouthful of soggy ribbon could, and she caught it between her own teeth, waited until he found the other end, and tugged.

Chance managed to pull up the edges of her gown and they repeated the operation all over again, by which time Alessa was fighting giggles. Chance surfaced from the eleventh attempt to tie off the knot. ‘What is funny now?’

‘Your nose tickles my, er, cleavage.’

‘Hmm…’ He shot her a provocative glance. ‘Well, let me tell you, Miss Meredith, that this is an agonisingly arousing enterprise for a man. In fact, I imagine the patrons of high-class bordellos would pay a fancy price for this experience.’ With a final tug he managed the knot and sat back. ‘There, I defy anyone to manage a bow.’

Alessa squinted down at the result. ‘The ribbons are a bit wet and mangled.’

‘Do you want me to ring for a maid and a flat iron?’

‘I doubt they have any heating at this time of day.’ Alessa felt the smile waver on her face. ‘Chance, are we going to get out of this?’

‘Yes.’ He said it flatly. ‘Yes, we are. And we’ll get your wretched aunt and your silly little cousin out as well. Now, one thing at a time—you still look as though you’ve been comprehensively rogered.’

‘Chance! What a frightful expression.’

‘Must be the association with pirates,’ he said vaguely, getting to his feet in one smooth motion. ‘Can you kick your skirts down? Good. I don’t know what we are going to do about your hair, or those trailing ribbons.’

‘I have been struggling,’ Alessa announced with sudden inspiration.

‘Oh, good girl,’ he approved with a grin.

‘It doesn’t explain the chewed ribbons though,’ Alessa worried.

‘If the man can take his eyes off your bosom long enough to notice, then there is something wrong with him. Everything has ended up several inches lower than when we started, you know.’

‘Oh my goodness! Chance, tug it up, quickly.’

‘No time.’He was standing, his ear against the door panels. ‘Someone’s coming.’

‘Hide!’