Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
I loved the sound of that. So much. My hand went to my mouth as a hot rush of tears swelled.
“Damn you.” I slapped at the trickle of moisture that leaked from my eyes. “I don’t want to cry anymore.”
“They’re bold tears. Dauntless. God knows you’ve earned them.” He slipped the backs of his fingers along my cheek. “So resilient and tough, yet at the same time, beautifully delicate.”
“I’m none of those things, Priest. I’m scared. I remember the devastation on your face in Nassau when Ashley left you. Losing him ruined you so completely you drowned yourself in drink. I knew then that I couldn’t compete with your lover. And I know it now, seeing the way you look at each other. I’m so afraid of being shut out.”
“The night I stole your compass, we were in your private cabin, and you asked me why I was there. Do you remember what I said?”
“Why are you here?”
“You know why.”
“You want to fuck me.”
“That’s a given, but not nearly the heart of it.”
“What, pray tell, could be the heart of your intentions, if not to wet your cock?”
“It’s really quite simple. I want to take care of you.”
I leaned into the hand he held on my cheek. “You want to take care of me.”
“More than anything. I want to spend the rest of my life protecting and worshiping you.” His fingers shifted to my hair and clenched with shocking assertiveness. “I want to make love to my wife. It’s been two years, Bennett.”
A flame of desire, that which lay dormant for so long, stirred between my legs.
I glanced toward the bathing chamber, searching for Ashley, and there he was. Leaning near the doorway, wearing only his breeches, he watched us with a dark, heated look that spiked the temperature of my blood to dizzying heights.
“The bath is ready.” He pushed away from the wall and vanished inside the chamber.
Priest slid his arms beneath me and drew me to his chest as he stood.
I’d put in an ungodly amount of work over the past three weeks into ensuring I could walk on my own two feet. But he wanted this. He wants to take care of me.
So I circled my arms around his strong neck and offered a prayer of gratitude unto the higher powers for giving me another chance to experience his love.
He set me down in the bathing chamber. Aglow with candlelight and lavishly decorated, the space paid homage to the large rectangular bath in the center. The first time I walked in here, I tripped and fell on my face, thunderstruck.
Constructed from gleaming marble, the bath was finely veined and made smooth. Deep as my middle on the outside, with steps on the inside that descended into the floor, it was big enough to accommodate four people.
Faucets arranged overhead, connecting with pipes that led to a cold water cistern, a copper one in which water was heated, and a sophisticated drainage system.
Steam rose from the water, and within that vapor, Ashley sprawled, his body submerged and head tipped back on the edge, facing us.
“This chamber is…” I shifted my weight, looking around. “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
“You should visit the city of Bath, just west of London.” He swirled a lazy finger through the water. “It’s named after its fashionable Roman-built baths. My father had this chamber erected in the likeness of the architecture there.”
Another doorway stood closed behind him, which I knew led to the rooms his parents once occupied. Now they sat empty and vacant.
“Do your parents ever come here?” I asked.
“No. They rarely leave London. Even when I was a child, they were never here.” His eyes met mine. “Get in the water, Bennett.”
My nerves twitched. I didn’t know why. I wasn’t restrained by a sense of modesty, and over the past two months, they’d attended to every bare crevice, crease, and shadow of my body. But this was different. New.
I shifted to Priest and gripped the nightgown. His hands went to mine, taking over the task. Lifting the linen, he pulled it up and off.
The impulse to cover myself beckoned, but I’d put a lot of effort into not only rebuilding my strength but also my confidence. I looked down at my pert breasts, trim waist, flat belly, toned hips and legs.
Had I returned to normal? Not quite. My muscles needed more strengthening. My elbow smarted when I moved it. My ribs protested twisting motions. But I didn’t stumble. I didn’t whimper. I was pleased with my progress.
The worst of my injuries, old and new, drew jagged lines across my abdomen and up my forearm. I owned those marks because I was a pirate. We wore scars and wooden limbs the way soldiers wore medals and ribbons.
My blond hair hung in wild, heavy coils to my waist. When it was wet, it was even longer. And shiny. Healthy.