She moved, and all thoughts disappeared as a surge of hardness pounded below. In her sleep, Nicole squeezed his shoulder, gasping at the building pressure of him inside her. She soon awakened and wonderingly tilted her head up, blinking open her curious eyes.
She must have liked what she read in his expression, because her lips curled softly. Her upper body rubbed along his when she leisurely pressed down on him. He groaned again and lifted his head toward hers, taking her lips and tongue with his own, scalding her with a possessive kiss. She answered him, her mouth trembling and lush. As their tongues danced, her hips moved over him.
Chapter 21
H er daring in the face of Sutherland's killing looks astonished even Nicole. She had left him. Left him with nothing but a partially loosened knot.
"Nicole, don't you dare," he'd commanded, his voice low and menacing.
She'd explained that she had responsibilities to others. That it was her greatest wish to be with him for the time being. If she only had to look out for herself, she would stay, she'd told him, but she couldn't afford to trust him completely.
When she'd seen his reaction, seen his obvious difficulty masking his rage, she'd become afraid.
He bit out, "Where will you go? Who will take care of you?"
Take care of her? His questions had provoked her just enough for her courage to return. "With your money, I'll be able to take care of myself. Besides, I have friends in port who will give me a place to stay. Don't look for me. You'll never find me, and I believe it's for the best.... What good could come of this?"
That last comment angered him even more. His eyes had mocked her. "What good? Damn it, Nicole, what takes place between us doesn't happen with just anyone. If that's why you're leaving--because no good can come of this--then you're blind."
She'd told him in a small voice, "No, honestly, that's not the reason. Even though it's wrong, I very much want to...be with you again. I think spending the next few weeks in your bed would be like heaven."
He seemed to soften at her admission; she took that moment to run out the door.
The next two days of her life were as miserable as that last night had been incredible. Her nervousness that he or his crew might find her never relented. Worse, her undertaking forced her to walk among the rowdy sailors mingling on the docks. It was too warm to wear her bulky cloak, so she'd gone without. She didn't want to alarm herself, but it seemed as though men stared at her. She foolishly wondered if they could sense what she'd done. Could they see the change in her?
For all her discomfort, the time had been productive. She'd been successful in contracting with a captain to drop off a bank draft at the Cape. He would get it to a contact she had there, and she would, she hoped, have all their bets hedged. She'd also scratched off several letters to her father and Maria--even to her grandmother--and sent them through half a dozen different channels.
Nicole sat on the back of a dusty wagon, absently eating an apple she'd bought, trying to decide what to do. She'd reached a point where she didn't know if she could stay away from him much longer. Thinking about the night she left, the things they'd done...the things she'd done to him...she wanted more.
But it wasn't fair to herself or to him. He had no place in her future. It would have to end right when it began, and she didn't know if she could ever willfully walk away from him again.
Chancey would be here soon, if he had in fact been released after they'd sailed. He wouldn't leave her much choice in the matter. When she convinced herself that her future wouldn't be decided by her lack of willpower in dealing with Sutherland, but by an irate Irisher, she gave in. She had to take every second she could with Sutherland before they separated--if he'd take her back.
Decided, she flung the core into the water and began the long walk back to the ship. She hardly registered the brilliant setting sun or the dimming sound of the closing shops because she was so lost in thought. A memory from her fourteenth year kept surfacing insistently in her mind.
It was one of those days near the equator when the sky perfectly matched the flat sea and enveloped everything in a vast, blue ball. Becalmed and bored, she and the cabin boy had rigged a rope-swing halfway up the mast. She couldn't remember if it was her idea or his, but they'd pulled the swing over the water, and before her father could catch them, each had dived off from the sheer height. When she thought of Sutherland, she felt the same sharp feeling in her belly, as though she were plummeting straight from the sky. Wasn't that why they called it falling in love?
Oh, Lord, she did not need to be in love with Captain Sutherland.
She replayed her predicament. If he wanted her after the way she'd treated him, she would have to purposefully close herself off. Although she couldn't seem to resist his bed, she had to make sure she didn't lose her heart any more than she already had. She'd promised to marry when she got back, and suffered no illusions that a rake like Sutherland would be on her grandmother's list of desirables. Not to mention her father's hatred for the man.
When she at last reached the Southern Cross, it was nearing midnight.
"Thank the Lord you came back," said one of the three midshipmen on deck when she stepped aboard. They all looked especially glad to see her.
She raised her eyebrows. "You boys missed me?" she asked in greeting.
"We have. Cap'n snaps at us and barks his orders."
"It's because of you," another crewman finished with a solemn look. His companions were shaking their heads emphatically, and she had to smile.
"You worried the cap'n something fierce, Miss Lassiter. He ain't ate. Nor slept more than a couple of hours since you left. Go on, then." He gestured her past. "You know the way."
When she entered his room, the lights were low. He lay in bed, facing away from her, and appeared to be sleeping. The idea of snuggling close to his long, solid body had her flying out of her clothes. She should find a shirt to sleep in, but she didn't want to wake him. No, honestly, she simply wanted her skin to touch his. Quietly, she slipped in and eased up to him.
Just as she was about to lay her head on the edge of his pillow, he said, "I didn't know if you'd come back."
She hesitantly placed her hand on his arm. His body was rigid with tension. "I didn't know if you'd take me back."
He hadn't relaxed a fraction. Exactly how angry was he?
"I looked for you--I was worried about you being out there alone."
"Is that the only reason?" She moved her fingertips down his broad back.
He sucked in a breath when the muscles contracted. "No. I want you to stay with me." He turned to face her. "Here."
"I will for as long as I can," she replied truthfully, and he seemed to accept that.
He sat up, slowly pulling the sheet off her, tugging it over her nipples, already hard and sensitive, leaving her bare. She reached up to kiss him, but he pressed her down, petting her.
He smoothed her arm back over her head, then the other, skimming the undersides, down the sides of her breasts to her waist. When she shivered, he smiled. Then he brushed his lips across her collarbone, licking and lightly nipping before descending to her nipples. She wanted to cry from the sen
sations when he took one in his mouth and drew on it sharply.
He enthralled her, grazing his teeth against her, pushing her breasts together to lavish one, then the other. So much so that she barely perceived he was wrapping her wrists together with a piece of cloth.
When she did, she yanked away, straining to free her hands.
He merely laughed at her attempts. "We have a score to settle," he promised her, the words harsh. Moving over her in a predatory manner, he tightened her bonds before securing her to the bunk.
"Now, I'll have you." He returned his hands to her. They were rough and burning hot. "My way."
She had no idea what to expect from this man. What would he do to her? Alarm spiking through her, she fought against her bonds and bucked his hand away when he brushed it over her breasts again.
Sutherland continued to stroke her, rubbing his flat palm over her nipples. He changed positions, bringing his hard shaft against her leg and his skilled touch lower and lower, gentling her struggles. One hand pushed her legs apart while with the other he delved his fingers inside her.
Mindless. Teasing her inside, coaxing her wetter. Until he cruelly stopped.
His hands went to her breasts to hold them as he brought his mouth down. She raised her hips against him, searching for his giving fingers, but he ignored her. She'd been so close, and now she throbbed, on the verge of begging him to touch her again. She'd put him through this. Now she understood. He was merciless.
"Sutherland, please..." she whimpered.
"Call me by my name," he commanded in a low, heated voice. "I want to hear you say my name."
"Derek! Please..."
At last, he moved to place himself between her legs, but instead of pushing himself into her as he'd done before, he grabbed her bottom with splayed, clutching fingers and lifted her to his bent head. To his lips.
"I've wanted to taste you for months," he said just above her flesh, so close she could feel the heat of his mouth. Then he kissed her directly in the place she'd begged him with her body to caress, jolting her lower body off the bed, onto his waiting tongue.