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)
What was I going to do?
I was married to an adulterer who would never let me go. I wanted a nobleman who would never marry me. If and when the two men collided, they would promptly kill each other. I should hope for that outcome and escape the moment it happened. But I was finding that my ability to exercise logic where they were concerned was nonexistent.
Even if my affection for Ashley was requited, he wouldn’t desert the Royal Navy or eschew his family, ranks, and obligations to be with a ruined, untitled woman. Besides, a relationship with him wouldn’t sever the one I’d been running from for the past two years.
One thing I’d learned was that love conquered nothing. It would only make my hopeless situation all the more hopeless.
A rustling sound drifted from the dining cabin. Footsteps? I thought I was alone.
Curious, I stepped back inside and followed the disturbance through the sleeping chamber, the day cabin, and… Oh. My eyebrows lifted.
Ashley sat at the table, wearing breeches and nothing more. A stout man with crooked legs bent over him, scraping a cutthroat razor along his neck.
“You have whiskers?” I edged closer, squinting at the steel-edged lines of Ashley’s jaw. “Since when?”
“Good morning, Miss Sharp.” He glanced at me sidelong without turning his head. “How’s your foot?”
“Good morning. The foot’s fine. But seriously, I didn’t know you could grow facial hair.”
“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I can, and I do.”
His barber finished and turned away to stow the tools. As he reached for a towel, I beat him to it.
“May I?” I held up the rag and met Ashley’s steady gaze.
He stared at me a moment before giving a stiff nod. “You may go, Sergeant.”
The bandy-legged man lumbered from the cabin with his small sack of supplies.
When the door shut, I sidled between Ashley’s spread knees and sat on the edge of the table. Leaning in, I ran the towel along the strong column of his neck.
His lips parted, and I sucked mine between my teeth. I could still taste his kisses and feel his hard male body wrapped around me. The magic between us hadn’t faded. Every lingering look rushed my blood like a tidal wave bent on ruination.
“I’ve never seen hair on your face.” I dropped the towel to glide my fingers across his rigid jaw and sharp cheekbones. So soft. So impossibly stony.
“It grows slow and comes in patches.” His breathing quickened beneath my caress. “Shaving is only needed once or twice a fortnight.”
“That’s okay.” I floated closer, tracing the satiny skin around his wide lips. “I can’t grow a beard at all, which makes me dreadfully ill-suited to my role as a pirate captain.”
“That so?”
“Truly. Everyone knows that beards incite terror and inspire reverence. You saw Madwulf’s horror when you severed his bug-infested pride and joy.”
“I think…” His majestic blue eyes glimmered as they dipped to my mouth, and lower still, pausing on my chest. “You possess other, more sufficient assets, so as to strike a man with awe.”
I followed his gaze downward, and my heart bounced off the walls. The neckline of the nightgown hung low and gaping in my bent position, offering him a glaring view of my bare breasts.
As I leaned back, his hand caught the loose garment and yanked it down my shoulder. The linen settled at my elbow, exposing one breast entirely. His gaze fixated, his pupils expanding, darkening, and soaking in that bared part of me for the first time.
My flesh ached for the heat of his wet mouth, my nipples tightening with each agonizing second he stared.
For two years, I’d dreamed of being gazed upon by a man who desired me. A man who didn’t lie or betray or long for another woman when he was with me.
Ashley didn’t just gaze. He narrowed the space between us, enveloped me with his scent I loved so well, and raised a hand toward my chest. Rather than seizing me in a careless grip, he skimmed his palm against me, just a featherlight touch on my nipple.
I whimpered and shivered as a delicious fever sprang to life in my bones, heating deep in my core, and hotter still between my legs. He watched every reaction, his hawk eyes examining my body’s answer to his oh-so-soft caress.
“You’re exquisitely formed.” He molded his fingers around my breast, lifting and testing the weight. “Like a queen.”
“I’m certainly no queen.” My bosom felt so heavy, so swollen with need.
“No, you’re right.” He lowered his mouth to my chest and breathed, “You’re a goddess. A sea goddess.”
He ran the flat of his tongue over the pebbled peak, and my spine bowed in response. A groan vibrated in his throat, and I moaned with him, shaking beneath the heavenly sensations of his warm firm lips. My hands flew to his hair, my nails dragging across his scalp and threading through the glossy black strands.