Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Connor left it a few minutes before he followed Callista below deck. He was surprised to find her in his cabin, with the decanter and glasses.

“Wouldn’t you rather do this your cabin? It’s bigger,” he said with a quizzical look, coming in and closing and bolting the door.

She shook her head handing him a glass. “We can explore my cabin another night, I’ve a fancy to rough it.” she grinned and clinked his glass.

He watched her swallow the whole finger in one go and mimicked her. Then took the glasses set them aside and hauled her into his arms.

“Where were we?” he murmured, nuzzling her neck. She smelled delicious, a faint whiff of rose petals and her own delectable scent.

She put her arms round his neck and said awkwardly, “I appreciate what you did out there. For Mick. He’s–important to me.”

His arms tightened round her. “In what way?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “He’s kinda the only family I’ve got. Not that he’s blood, but he was Papa’s friend and I’ve known him all my life. He’s like an uncle I suppose.” She chewed her lip and suddenly looked a lot younger and more vulnerable than he had ever seen her before. Something inside him softened. He could relate. Garmon was the only family he had too.

But the chink in her armour was fleeting, she tossed back her hair and grinned at him, licking her lips. “I think you were about to kiss me again?”

The important thing was he’d seen the chink. She was all hard edges and spiky bits on the outside, but underneath there was some softness. He could work with that. He’d have her on her knees. Literally and figuratively, in no time at all, and the best part? She would do it of her own free will.

He lowered his head with a soft smile and kissed her full mouth. No, the best part was the way she tasted, whisky and woman. He couldn’t wait to taste the rest of her.

He kissed her slowly, deeply, his hands rubbing over her back then down to squeeze her luscious bottom, pressing her closer against him. His cock had well and truly recovered and was ready for business again, tingles throughout his body and a heady rush of desire assailed him again. This woman! He loved the feel of her in his arms, she was the perfect fit, just the right height, just the right size and shape, all womanly curves and rose-scented, silky skin.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as she angled her head to accommodate his kisses and returned them in full. There was no maidenly shyness in Callista as he already knew, and she was as skilful a kisser as any woman he’d been with, completely in the moment, enjoying it as much as he was.

He raised his head for air, breathing quickly. He was pleased to see by her flushed face, rapid pulse and quick breathing, she wasn’t faking anything, she really was as involved in this as he was.

“Do ye know how beautiful and desirable ye are?” he asked husky voiced.

She laughed and shook her head. “Don’t spoil it Irish, you can keep your Spanish coin and honeyed words, I don’t need them. I can feel your desire for me here.” She stroked and clasped his rigid cock through the fall of his breeches and squeezed. “This,” she said her voice dropping, “is all the proof I need of how you feel.”

He groaned, “Ye’re a sea witch!” he said, grabbing her face and kissing her hard.

When she could speak again, she nibbled his ear and bit the lobe. “Sea devil, more like,” she murmured. “Can you handle me Irish?”

“Is that a challenge?” He pulled back so that he could see her face.

Her expression was electric, lit up with desire and excitement, it fired his blood. No one had ever made him feel like this, so alive, so invigorated. She was like the sea, beautiful, wild and unpredictable.

He picked her up and deposited her on the bunk, it was a narrow bed, set against the wall, if they were to sleep in it, they would be very cosy. But right now, sleep was the farthest thing from his mind. He pinned her to the bed, caging her with his knees either side of her hips, and kissed her hard and deep, one hand going to the tie of her shirt. He was tempted just to rip it off her, but he suspected she didn’t have many shirts and was mindful of destroying her meagre possessions. He knew what it was like to never own much, where everything you had, was precious.

He tugged the garment from the waistband of her breeches and pulled it up to reveal her breasts. Round full globes, with dark rosy nipples already jutting up at him. The skin of her breasts was its natural pale milky colour, unlike the skin that that was exposed to the elements that had a lovely golden glow. He pulled the rest of her shirt off over her head and she helped him, as eager for what he was about to do as he was.

He cupped her lovely breasts and squeezed, massaging them in his fingers, rubbing the nipples and bringing them to even tighter, harder peaks. She arched her back and made a noise of appreciation as he did it, her eyes half closing with pleasure. He bent, grazing his teeth down her neck and tasting her skin with the tip of his tongue.

“Delicious,” he murmured, moving his mouth lower to skim across the top of her breasts, then dip into the well between, created by his hands holding and pressing them up; as her corset would, if she ever wore one. His tongue traced patterns over her flesh as his mind conjured pictures of her in petticoats and corset, she would be beautiful...

He moved his head slightly and captured a nipple in his mouth, her warm flesh and scent enveloping his senses, he was drowning in her. Her whimpers and panting breath encouraged him to suckle harder.

Her hands stroked his hair, neck and shoulders, giving him warm tingles down his back. She was a sumptuous feast for his starving senses. Her touch was delicious. It felt so good he was tempted to stop and just savour it.

Pushing the thought away he transferred his attention to her other nipple and had the satisfaction of her pressing up into him with a muffled moan. Her legs moved restlessly on the bed.

He shuffled down the bed a bit, so that he could trace kisses down her stomach, and undo the buttons on her breeches. He had barely had time to register anything about her body earlier, before he was in her balls deep. This time he looked his fill, as he pulled her breeches down and off her legs and settled his knees between hers as she spread her legs for him.

She was dark blonde and curly down here. Matted and damp with their earlier coupling and her arousal, she smelled of musk and rum, and he moaned softly, bending to press his lips to her mound. He split her lips with a finger, so soft, silky and wet. She spread her legs further and let him explore her thoroughly with his fingers. Pushing inside and sliding between her lips and up to the bud of pleasure that would spark her tinder. Her hips lifted and she moaned, her hands grasping the sheets and her head tossing. She was well primed for more.

He bent and set his mouth on her, keeping two fingers inside her as he licked and suckled her lips and bud.

She bucked under this treatment, exclaiming, “Gods of the deep, Irish, that’s good!” Her voice was low and hoarse as she spread her legs wider, straining up into his touch, muscles trembling. “God, yes!”

He redoubled his efforts, curling his fingers forward inside her and the tension in her body snapped with a deep moan. He felt the clench and pulse of her release on his fingers and mouth. It made his cock throb and leak. Fuck yes!

He sat up and undid the buttons of his breeches pushing them down out of the way and rising over her, he settled himself into position between her legs. He had planned to pleasure her longer, but he couldn’t wait to be inside her. His discipline was shot with this woman. He just desperately wanted to fuck her again.

He grinned down at her, and she traced a hand down the side of his face, her expression, sloe-eyed and dreamy with lust. She lifted her legs up and wider to accommodate him as he probed for her entrance, his weight on his elbows. Finding the right place, he pushed forward and groaned with delight as he slid home into tight wet heat. Fuck that felt good!

“Alright?” he panted checking her expression for any discomfort.

“God yes Irish, fuck me hard!” Her eyes sparked and her grin was positively feral, as she moved up into him and clenched her inner muscles.

“Callista! Fuck woman, you’ll undo me before I’ve begun!” He thrust his hips forward with jagged force, almost beside himself with a savage lust he didn’t know he was capable of. She wants it hard; she’s going to get it. He lay on her and moved his arms under her legs so that he could push them wider apart and hold her hips, as he fucked her hard, fast deep. He knew he wouldn’t last long doing it this way, but he was beyond stopping himself.

She met his every thrust with a lift and twist of her hips, making guttural sounds in her throat with each hard plunge. Her hands gripped him fiercely, her nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders and her feet pressed into his buttocks, pushing him into her as deep as he could go. She was frenzied as she chased another orgasm.

She was on the edge he thought and so was he. So close, his cock was starting to throb, and he could feel the tingling rise of imminent orgasm starting in his balls. Too soon. This needed to last longer for both of them.

He wrenched himself out of her, and squeezed the base of his cock brutally, to choke off the orgasm.

“Irish what are you doing?” she wailed.

“Fucking you until you can’t walk!” he rasped., flipping her body and hauling her onto her knees. He ran his hand up between her legs and pushed her knees apart with his. She groaned, her head dropping and her arse rising.

“God yes, do it!” she begged, her hands clenching on the pillow.

He lined up and plunged back into her and rode her hard, holding her bruisingly tight by the hips.

“Make yourself come!” he barked, his voice hoarse, his senses lost to anything but the rising storm in his groin.

Her hand reached between her legs, and he continued his rapid fucking, the slap of flesh on flesh and their mingled panting and groaning filling cabin. If there was anyone nearby, they could surely hear them, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered except getting his seed in this woman. It was primal, this drive to fuck her, own her, make her submit to him. He’d never felt it before.

He reached under her, slapping her hand away and using his fingers to pleasure her. He would make her come with this hand and his cock. She pushed back into him moaning.

“Irish!” it was a plea. “Oh God!” She groaned and bucked, clenching and trembling.

Yes! Satisfaction bloomed inside him, and he soaked up the pleasure of her orgasm, feeding his own imminent release. He was so fucking close now. His earlier stupendous release and the delaying tactic of squeezing the base of his cock had caused a hiatus in the process, and he was now poised on the edge but unable to go over.

“Fuck!” he swore.

“What’s wrong?” she panted hanging in his grip.

He leaned over her back, nipping the side of her neck and running his hands up and down her torso, squeezing her breasts and rubbing her belly, moving lower to swirl over her bud and make her jerk.

“Fucking hell Irish, you’ll make me come again!”

“Good!” he muttered. Moving his hips and his fingers.

“Faster and lighter,” she instructed, panting.

He obeyed and she gasped. “Oh yes, please...”

Listening to her beg, ignited something in him, and he began to pant, his flesh prickling, his balls tightening.

He pulled her up against him, siting back on his haunches and rubbed her lightly, and fast.

She panted and mewled like a kitten and his cock throbbed, his balls tingled. Her spread thighs shook as her stomach muscles pulled tight, and she cried out, bucking in his arms.

His cock jerked and the sudden hard pleasure made him groan so loudly the whole fucking ship could hear it. He pushed her down to her knees and pummelled her with his cock, hard, staccato, fast. He flung his head back and bellowed something unintelligible as the most exquisite explosion of heat and pleasure fountained up his cock and released in four bursts of intense ecstasy. He grunted, he groaned, he trembled, and he lost his seed, his body going lax in the aftermath so that he fell forward on top of her squashing her flat to the bed.

For several moments, it might have been minutes or hours, he didn’t know, he lost himself entirely. When he finally came back to himself, he could hear the heavy slow thud of his heart and feel the heaviness in his limbs. He rolled off her onto his side. There wasn’t enough room to lie on his back. He lay curled up and limp, just drifting. He didn’t think he had ever had such an intense orgasm in his life. He felt gutted and so peaceful he just wanted to sleep.

He kicked off his breeches and pulled her close, spooning her into his body and pulling up the blanket to cover them both. He kissed the nape of her neck where her hair parted, his arm across her belly, cinching her into him. Her legs followed the bend of his, and he appreciated having the curve of her bum tucked into his groin.

“Goodnight Captain,” he murmured.

“Night Irish,” she mumbled back, already half asleep.

He wokeat some point later to find he was alone. Sitting up he observed the bolt had been pulled back. She’d gone back to her own cabin. He was tempted to follow her, putting one foot to the floor, he hesitated.

If he was too eager, she would take him for granted. He needed to have her begging him, not the other way around.

He settled back into his bunk enjoying it so much more than the uncomfortable hammock.

He had learned a lot about her tonight, and a bit about himself that surprised him. He’d have fucked her anyway to get control of the ship, even if she was ugly. The fact that he wanted her so fiercely, so ungovernably, it was thrilling and a bit dangerous. Good thing he liked dangerous. She excited him the way no woman ever had before.

And she had begged him, his thoughts skipping about. She had begged him to fuck her, hard, and it made him want to come. Something about having Callista Montmayne beg, excited him unbearably.

He thumped the pillow trying to get comfortable. He missed having her in his arms already.