Chapter 23

"Christ," he groaned.

She felt a delicate blush tinting her cheeks, but she was unable to discern whether it lingered from her recent release or sprung from her brazen suggestion. Probably both.

"Christ," he repeated, voice strained as if in pain. He took her lips under his. Her body arched toward his, and he coiled an arm around her, pulling her close. "I sure as hell want to, but I can't make you any promises."

"No promises."

His chest rose and fell, and his breath caressed her flesh. For a breathless moment, she captured his gaze, eyes that reflected the vivid shade of the ocean, several shades lighter than her night sky hue. The passion in them, the desire blazing in his depths, made the tiny muscles inside her twitch.

"Hell," he whispered. "Are you sure?"

"I don't know what will happen anymore. I want to know what it feels like to be a woman. And I want to feel like a woman with you."

"This was never part of the plan." His voice shook, and his grip around her tightened.

"I know, Adrian." She placed a palm on his pounding heart. "I haven't—I don't know…"

He grazed his thumb along her lower lip. "I know. Just follow my lead and do what you feel like."

She inhaled, a flutter coursing through her breath. He leaned in, drizzling kisses on her neck and shoulders as he untied the drawstrings of her chemise. He pushed the garment aside and continued his lazy exploration along her collarbone, kissing, licking, and sucking. Jolts of pleasure shot through her body and coaxed a string of mews to escape into the night.

Shifting to her opposite side, he marked a trail of kisses along her shoulder and neck before showering her jawline with affectionate kisses.

His tongue poked her mouth, demanding she let him in, and when she granted him access, she couldn't restrain the groan pressing up her throat.

His hand lowered to her bosom. Fluttering across her breast, he drew a soft moan from her, but he didn't stop until he reached the hem of her chemise. He let go of her mouth and lifted the garment, holding her gaze as he exposed inch by inch of her skin. His manhood strained against her thigh as he tossed the fabric away and roved her body with a heated gaze.

Her nipples hardened further as the evening breeze fluttered across her damp skin, stretching toward him as if they were desperate for his touch.

"Good lord," he whispered.

She moved her arms to shield herself from his hungry stare, but he took her hands and kissed each palm softly. "Don't hide. You're beautiful."

As if he sensed her unease, he yanked off his shirt. Her chest heaved with her erratic breath as her eyes devoured his naked skin. Desire burned as she traced the contours of his muscular chest. She followed the soft fluff tapering into a thin ribbon across the taut plane as it disappeared beneath his breeches like a clandestine trail to a buried treasure.

His hand slid up her waist and cupped the mound of her breast, and her peak scrunched under his thumb. He leaned in to nuzzle it with the tip of his tongue, and a sharp gasp escaped her.

He swirled his tongue around the jut, suckled and licked, and when his hungry mouth shifted to the other one, his fingers continued where his lips had left off.

Jolt after jolt of sizzling lust flashed through her, springing from her nipples, radiating through her body, and setting every nerve on fire.

"Adrian…"

He teased her breasts with his lips, his tongue, and his teeth until tiny beads of sweat gathered between them. She wriggled beneath him, grasping at his shoulders, desperate to hold on to something.

He traced her belly, tasting her belly button. His hand wavered lower and pulled away her last piece of modesty, exposing her to the evening air and his burning gaze as he removed her pantaloons. She sucked in air through her teeth, sensing the fine hairs on her body stand in a blend of lust and apprehension.

Letting his mouth trail the path of his hand, he skimmed his lips along the inside of her thighs, his mouth warm against her tingly skin, up and down, first one side, then the other, before he flicked his tongue across her center spot.

A zesty spark shot from between her legs throughout her body. "Ah!"

Her fingers twined into his hair, pushing and pulling at his head, not sure whether she wanted him to stop or never to stop. He disappeared for a moment, replacing his heat with the cooler evening air in his void. A soft rustling followed by a thud in the sand from his breeches, and then he returned.

His tongue ravished her sensitive spot, his warm breath engulfing her most private parts. Her thighs trembled, and her muscles clenched under the hungry lashes. Leaning over her, he continued his assault on her senses, pushing her forward, upward. Red-hot sparks collected beneath his mouth and shot out through her body, numbing her limbs, and again, he pushed her over that magic edge into a vortex of pleasure.

She arched her body and felt him hard and pounding between her legs. He found her core, slid a hand beneath her bottom, and lifted her hips as he pushed inside before her delicious trembles faded.

She stiffened, a stifled cry tearing out of her as he filled her with a quiet moan. He stilled inside her, nuzzling her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids as he waited for her to settle around him, to accept the way he stretched her.

"Are you all right?" His voice quivered with pent-up desire.

"I think so," she panted.

He withdrew a fraction and pushed back, testing her, slowly opening her until he reached her core. A breathy moan escaped him, flitting across her skin, and his movements sparked tantalizing tingles inside her, dousing the twinge of his girth forcing her open.

His rhythm accelerated until his solid thrusts set her core on fire. By instinct, she tensed her muscles to enhance the feeling of his flesh slicing through her wet folds. He rewarded her with a strained groan from deep inside his chest.

Adrian clasped her hip, the shivers from his energized muscles floating from him to her. His ragged breath turned into groans, which set off a tingling deep inside her, one that grew for every thrust. She bit her lower lip and clawed her nails along his back and shoulders, her body finding its rhythm together with his as if it flowed in her blood from a time before history. She arched her back, and her body stiffened as his thrusts drove her over the edge and tossed her into a blitzing ecstasy that had her body writhing beneath his.

Adrian caught her cry with his lips before he shuddered on top of her, groaning into her neck, and then his weight bore her down in the sand.

Her spasms eased, leaving her limp beneath his heavy body. His heart hammered in his chest, echoing her frantic rhythm. She reveled in the sensation of his warm skin touching hers, enjoying the feeling of him inside her, still throbbing against her core.

When he regained his breath, he planted a lingering kiss on her neck and rolled onto his back, sweeping her along so she sprawled on top of him. "Goddamn perfect."

"I thought I didn't have a constitution to your liking. Too gaunt and mundane."

"Damn, Ava," he murmured into the indentation beneath her ear. "You're not going to let me live that one down, are you?"

Ava.

Nobody had ever called her Ava before. Nobody had ever bothered to give her a nickname. But he had, and it felt personal, intimate, his mark for her.

She chuckled, running her finger along his brow and down his cheek. The usual tension in his jaw was gone. "I'm simply clearing out my confusion."

He shrank inside her and glided out of her slickness as she stirred. A gush of warmth followed. The reality of their actions breezed in her conscience, but she pushed away the thought of the potential consequences. Everything had changed, and she had no idea what the future had in store for her.

"Well, I lied, mostly to myself." He drew lazy circles on her back with his fingertips, making her skin tickle. "I knew the instant I laid eyes on you on board the Chirton that I was in deep trouble. You're beautiful. Has nobody truly ever told you that?"

"Papa has told me, of course, but…"

"…but nobody else?"

You look like something the cat dragged in.

"It doesn't matter."

He was quiet for a while, the brilliant blue storms digging into her soul. "Tell me about yourself."

"There isn't much to tell. I grew up at Hawthorn Manor with Papa and his new wife, Lady Hawthorn, and their two daughters, Mary and Sarah. Mary is sixteen, and Sarah is thirteen."

"You call your stepmother Lady Hawthorn?"

She shrugged. "She prefers it that way."

"What happened to your mother?"

Avaline fidgeted with the locket hanging around her neck. "She died in childbed. She was the cook at the manor until…"

Her words died on her lips. The stories she had heard haunted her like ghosts.

Adrian remained quiet, stroking a reassuring thumb along her collarbone, giving her the time she needed.

She grieved not only the connection to a mother, the unspoken conversations, and the maternal guidance through life but also the love between her parents that never had the chance to flourish, a treasured love her father nursed deep inside his heart and instead reserved exclusively for her.

"My grandfather, the old lord, wouldn't hear about marriage, and when he learned my mother was with child, he forced her to leave Hawthorn Manor. Papa set her up in London. I know he loved her. That was one of the last things he said to me before I left England. He went against the old earl's instructions and planned to marry her, but then she died."

"I'm sorry." Adrian's quiet voice drifted across her flesh.

"Her cousin still works at Hawthorn Manor. He is Papa's butler. He and his wife have always been good to me. I preferred to stay with them rather than in the manor. I miss them so very much."

"But you still chose to leave, knowing you probably wouldn't see them again."

"There is no place for me at the manor. My half-sisters will be married off like the proper roses they are, leaving me to wither like a weed under my stepmother's resentment, depending on Papa's goodwill and generosity for the rest of my life."

"I admire your strength and resilience. You're a survivor."

They lay silently for a long time, listening to the waves lapping on the shore, the rustle of the palm trees above, and the crickets chirping. Now and then, a banging from a hammer, a shout, or a burst of laughter from the men working on the Ranger intruded on their peacefulness.

Adrian wove a web of desire around her as his fingers expanded their territory. Their breaths picked up, and he hardened against her belly. He rolled around and slid into her, easier this time, though his girth stung for a wee bit. She arched to meet him, savoring his movements, following his rhythm, and when he hurled her over the edge, he swallowed her screams before seeking his release.

Adrian was gone when the rhythmic hammering and banging, accompanied by shouts and orders, shattered her satisfying dream. She snuggled the covers around her shoulders as if they could shield her from the intruding activity and curled into a ball. His scent clung to the blankets, and she inhaled his lingering presence in the tent.

Her heightened sensitivity caused a delightful tickle each time she stirred, the fabric gently brushing against her breasts, making them feel raw and exposed, and a faint soreness throbbed between her legs.

The night replayed in her memory, sending a sizzle through her female parts that made her squirm. She hadn't fathomed such bliss existed in the union between a man and a woman. Simply thinking about the things he had done to her made her blush and squirm.

She clutched her thighs together when she recalled the way his fingers and mouth had explored her body, opened her like a flower in bloom, and brought her to heaven, first once, then again, and then again after escorting her to her tent.

Lingering in the blissful drowsiness, she savored the buzzing flush brought forward by her recollections until her pulse kicked up and her skin dewed.

She whisked the cover away and put on her clothes. Judging by the clonking sounds emanating from the canopy, Freddie was busy preparing breakfast. Avaline dashed into the bushes for a moment of privacy and returned to help Freddie with the meal.

The dry leaflets shed by the palm trees cracked under her feet. She shuffled aside the tangled thicket and shrubbery, watching her every step, wary of the snakes that might slither beneath the leaf litter. Without warning, a thick arm coiled around her waist and ripped her off her feet.

"Oof!"

A clammy hand slapped over her mouth, choking the alarmed scream tearing up her throat. She slammed into a solid frame that reeked of sweat and grime.

"Easy, missy," a rough voice rasped close to her ear. "Just be hushin', and me won't harm ye. We're goin' to have a fine time, lass."

Morris.

Her body went taut, strained as a fiddle string. His heavy breath assaulted her nose, rank with rum and decay, as he dragged her deeper into the thicket.

We will be ravished and killed by those savage barbarians. This is the end!

Molly's words rang in her ears. Avaline thrashed and twisted in Morris's clutches, but her hands were pinned under an arm massive as a tree trunk, and her feeble attempts bounced off him as if she were a mere mosquito.

She kicked out with her legs, and her heel found Morris's shin. He grunted, but it wasn't enough to release his solid grip around her waist.

"Me knew ye be a wild one," he rasped, showering her face with his foul-smelling breath. "We all saw the gash you left on the captain's neck. Me bet he enjoyed a real display. It ain't fair, though, that he be hoggin' the fun all to himself."

Morris flung her to the ground behind an overthrown palm. The impact knocked the air out of her, leaving her gasping for breath. Her vision swam, blurring the surroundings into a distorted mass.

"Me be likin' a wildcat," Morris continued, and his hand returned to her mouth. "Makes for a more satisfyin' prize."

He pressed her down on the musty ground, using his knee to keep her feet under control as he reached for the drawstring of his breeches with his other hand.

"Not a sound," he warned. "Me swear to Kraken ye will regret it!"

She clawed at his arms, but it was futile. Her breathing stalled as his body trapped her, his hand cutting her air to a trickle.

Morris released his stiff manhood, watching her with an evil gleam in his black eyes. He latched onto the hem of her shirt, yanking the fabric up until it wrapped around her neck like a choking noose.

A fog enveloped her view, and her chest constricted. She opened her mouth to suck in more air, but the only thing she achieved was to sample the rancid grime from his hand.

Without thinking, on pure instinct, Avaline bit down. Hard.

"Aaarrrrgh!"

Morris yanked his hand away so quickly that her teeth rattled. The stale taste of blood filled her mouth. She caught a sharp breath and released it in a shrill scream. Her nails slashed at his face, carving through soft flesh.

"Ye stupid wench," Morris hissed.

With a fist that spun her head, he whacked her chin and pinned her arms above her head, shoving them into the dank ground. His knee pushed in between her legs, forcing them apart. A hazy orb circled her view, and warm tears trickled from the corner of her eyes. A sob escaped her when he yanked at her breeches.

Please, dear Lord…

"Me be givin' ye–"

A boot cracked Morris's chin like a whip, clacking his teeth and turning his words into an unintelligible gurgle. The iron grip pressing her into the fetid ground flew off her, and another boot drove Morris's body into a thorny bush.

"Capt'n, me can explain–"

Adrian's face twisted into a snarl, and his lips curled back to reveal his clenched teeth. With a firm grip on Morris's shirt, he hauled the assailant to his feet and shoved him up against a tree trunk. Without as much as a word, he repeatedly punched Morris in the face with determined fists, like he had been trained to do so.

Pain shot through Avaline as she mobilized her numb limbs. She pushed herself up on shivering legs and used the hem of the shirt to wipe the blood and grit from her face.

Adrian pummeled Morris with relentless fists until the sailor's head hung from his neck, lolling with each brutal blow. When Adrian let go of him, Morris collapsed on the ground like a sack of grain.

"Ava, talk to me." Adrian grabbed her arms and ran his gaze over her face, eyes wide and alert.

"I-I'm fine," she croaked and cleared her throat, swaying in Adrian's grip.

He slid a hand under her chin, and she flinched when he tilted her head. His mouth set in a dangerous line when he inspected her jaw. "Are you sure? Did he hurt you other than that?" His eyes lowered to her bosom and then further down before they sought hers again.

"No." Her throat clogged. Darn, that quivering voice! "Only my wrists are sore."

A black shadow tinted his eyes. "I'll punish Morris for what he did," he assured in a flat, steely voice. "I'm sorry this happened to you. I should have guarded you better."

Adrian made good on his promise. Before noon, a bare-backed Morris had been strung up between two palm trees, and Adrian had summoned every crew member to witness his punishment.

Avaline remained inside her tent like it was a sanctuary. She had scrubbed off the mud and grime, and Adrian had brought her a fresh set of clothes, but the meal Freddie had offered her, with his devastated eyes fixed on his feet, stood untouched on the crate that served as a table.

Adrian's voice traveled with the wind. She struggled to make out his words but felt the tension in them. Seconds later, Morris's guttural scream pierced the muggy air, again and again and again.

Adrian's scarred back flashed before her eyes. How many lashes had he endured? Tens, if not hundreds.

A wave of nausea washed over her as she imagined Adrian bound and whipped, screaming in agony like Morris until his body gave up and he lost consciousness.

His screams were unbearable.

She didn't have to worry about Adrian's crew. Nobody in their right mind would dare to defy the captain's black mood, so she slipped unnoticed into the bushes, away from the dreadful cries.