Her eyes stung, her emotions scattered and confused. "I just want to please you."
He sighed. "You ask for more control than I am capable of."
She searched his face, so austerely handsome and passion-flushed. Something in his eyes—a wary softening—tugged at her heart. She brushed her fingertips across his mouth, and he pressed an urgent kiss against them. Reaching for his hair, Olivia brought it around to frame his face. "You are the most gorgeous creature I've ever seen. I want to touch you all over, put my mouth on you, make you wild for me…"
"Olivia." His voice was a pained whisper as his eyes closed on a ragged breath.
"Damn you."
Phoenix stood, and opened the placket to his trousers, moving so quickly she had no time to see him. He leaned over her, and she felt him, hot and hard, in the crease of her sex. She shivered, her body slowly coming to renewed life.
"Hold me tight."
"Yes…" She held onto him like a woman drowning.
And then he rotated his hips, moving his c*ck easily through her slick lips. She tensed, expecting stretching and pain, but it never came. He began to move against her, a driving, urgent rhythm of his h*ps against hers. His c*ck was hot and hard as he pumped through the folds of her sex, his tight balls slapping against the damp opening to her body. But he kept away from the full consummation she craved.
"Wrap your legs around me," he gasped. "Move with me… yes…" His skin turned hot under her hands, his breath heaving from his lungs.
The heavy weight of him moving so feverishly between her thighs renewed the ache within her. Wanting to experience the pleasure again, Olivia writhed beneath him, clawing at his back, as her body rushed for the precipice. She sobbed when the rapture hit her, and then Phoenix tensed, rock hard, against her.
Burning dampness flooded across her stomach in pulsing jets.
He cried out her name as he shuddered in her arms.
Sebastian buried his face in the fragrant curve of Olivia's neck and damned himself for being a heartless cad. His control was a source of pride to him, but he'd had none of it today. From the moment he'd seen her on the deck of the Seawitch with her chin tilted defiantly and a far too heavy sword in her hand, he'd been captivated. As the day had progressed, he'd become more and more enamored with her. Her beauty alone was impossible to resist, but the fire, the passion… He could no more have resisted touching her than he could have chosen to stop breathing.
She'd been trying to assist him, to tend to his wounds, as no one ever had. And he'd repaid her by staring lustily at her exposed br**sts and stripping her of his shirt when she'd wished to cover herself. Olivia had been willing, eager, but he should have walked away for her own good. He could never be the husband she deserved. Despite this, he'd spread her out, a feast for a starving man, and debased her with his ravenous touch.
And damned if he didn't want to do it again. Immediately.
Sebastian rose onto his elbows and gazed down at Olivia's beautiful face, flushed with his passion. He almost inquired if she was well, but the dazed look in her eyes answered the unspoken question. His expression most likely mirrored hers.
Placing a swift, hard kiss against her parted lips, he untangled his limbs from hers. Olivia was all heat and desire, a fiercely passionate woman who, even in her innocence, had pleasured him almost beyond bearing. Untried and unschooled, she hadn't the guile to hide her response or to play any games. He'd felt wanted, needed, in a way no one had ever made him feel before.
Staring at her taut belly, shiny with his seed, Sebastian was swept with an Sylvia Day - Bad Boys Ahoy!
overwhelming wave of possessiveness. He wanted to mark her like this everywhere, brand her completely, so that no other man would ever touch her.
Her drowsy eyes followed him with such warmth it took his breath away. The way she looked at him, her palpable panic when he'd slipped on the rigging—
how long had it been since anyone had cared for his welfare? So long ago he could scarcely remember it. Only his gratefulness for her tender regard had prevented her complete ruination.
Sebastian ached at the thought of returning her to her father, wishing he could spirit her away and keep her safe from the choices of his past, choices that made it impossible for them to ever be together. Never before had he regretted anything he'd done. Now he regretted it all.
"I'd offer you the bath," she murmured, "but the water is certainly cold by now."
Looking at the small hip bath, he smiled. "It's perfect. Thank you."
He retrieved a towel from the washstand and dipped it in the cold water. Then he went to her and cleansed his lust from her body, his c*ck hardening again as her n**ples puckered under his touch. Olivia was so small compared to him, such tiny, sweetly curved perfection. And he'd rutted upon her like an animal.
Cursing silently, Sebastian turned from the arousing sight of her and quickly stripped from his breeches. With a soft hiss, he sank into the chilled water. He glanced at his wife, biting back a grin as she slid from the tabletop and looked modestly at the wall.
"Aren't you curious to see the part of me that you so recently pleasured?" he asked.
She blushed. Keeping her eyes averted, Olivia moved to her trunks, holding the ruined gown against her swollen n**ples. She was a ravishing vision, and his body was already eager for a repeat performance. Sebastian scrunched down in Sylvia Day - Bad Boys Ahoy!
the too-small tub and concentrated on the chilly temperature of the water to cool his blood. It was a testament of paternal love that fresh water was set aside for this purpose.
He frowned when she pressed a bar of fine, French-milled soap into his hand.
Scented of musk and bergamot, it was definitely a masculine toilet item.
"Why do you have a man's soap?" he asked sharply.
Damnation. He was jealous!
Some of the afterglow faded from her eyes. "'Tis my father's favorite. One more or less will not be missed." She turned away, but not before he caught the hurt evident on her delicate features.
Sebastian almost apologized, and then reconsidered. It was best if Olivia did not come to care for him, a circumstance made more likely by the intense passion they'd just shared. Distance had to be created between them—for both their sakes. Apparently, he had a fondness for this woman— his wife—that was too threatening to even consider.
Rushing the rest of his bath, Sebastian dressed in silence, eager to flee the intense feelings Olivia engendered. On his way out, he paused in the doorway.
"A few of the crewmen will be down shortly to dump the tub water. I'll order more to be heated for you. For God's sake, don't shoot anyone. It will take some time…"
"I understand. Thank you." She remained intensely focused on straightening the already orderly contents of her trunk.
He stared at her stiffened spine and couldn't hold back the feelings that twisted and writhed inside him. He clenched his jaw, forcibly withholding the reassurances she obviously wanted, and deserved, to hear. Only minutes ago they'd shared a blinding closeness, and now they were no more than awkward Sylvia Day - Bad Boys Ahoy!
strangers. Instead of bringing ease from his restless agitation, the gulf between them ripped him deeply.
Miserable, he left without a word, the door shutting behind him with an unmistakable click of finality.
Olivia woke to the feel of a steady breeze. From the rolling view outside the windows, she knew they'd raised sail. She looked around the room and found herself alone. Phoenix had not returned the evening before, nor, it appeared, after she'd retired for the night.
There was a knock at the door, and her heart leapt as she rushed to answer it, eager to see Phoenix again. Instead it was Maggie who stood there. The abigail entered with a bright smile, unaware of her mistress's disappointment.
Olivia tried to hold her tongue, but her curiosity won out. "Have you seen Captain Phoenix about today?"
"Aye," Maggie said with a cheerful lilt. "Early this morning, before he went with the Seawitch. We're on our way, milady. The crew said we should put into port in Barbados within a few days."
The Seawitch. Olivia's heart plummeted into her stomach. Phoenix had moved to her father's ship to get away from her, that was painfully obvious. Her face heated with embarrassment. He most likely thought her the worst sort of wanton.
And hadn't she been?
Wretched, she shook her head. She'd been mindless with desire, but the pirate certainly had not felt the same. He'd had the presence of mind to keep her maidenhead intact, a circumstance that said clearly he did not desire to take her as his wife. He would escort her to England, obtain his annulment, and sail off without looking back. She, on the other hand, would spend her days pining for the husband she hadn't wanted, only to discover he was all she wanted.
Olivia spent the three days it took to reach Barbados ensconced in Phoenix's cabin. Bored and crying miserably every time she remembered her abandoned behavior, she resorted to snooping to distract herself. Rifling through his drawers, desk, and cupboards, she found ribbon-bound letters from the Marquess of Dunsmore addressed to Sebastian Blake. She found legal documents that bore his seal and wanted posters displaying his alias. She'd strongly suspected, of course, or she would never have given her favors so freely. But by the end of the three days, she had no doubt.
She was married to a pirate. The thought thrilled her.