Jaded Tides (The Razor's Adventures Pirate Tales) (3 page)

His kisses were like the burning sun, and my lips felt swollen and sore, but the instruction I wanted and the pathway to his desire was paved through them. I finally understood that no matter what I did tonight, there wasn’t anything I could do to disappoint him. He neither paused nor redirected my actions, no matter how hard I pulled at his mane or clawed at his shoulders as he pawed and kneaded my flesh. All I knew was I wanted him to be happy, and I knew when he finally laid me back on his bed and stood staring down at me, our wants and needs were exactly the same.

This time, in that golden lantern light, there were no bruises to see and nothing to hide. When he climbed in the bed next to me, he leaned upon one elbow and looked down into my eyes his strong, fierce hands were gentle when they touched me. I thought after the way we’d been practically assaulting each other, he’d pounce on top of me like a lion and consume me, but instead he drug his fingers over the now filled-in curves of my body as if he were memorizing a course to some uncharted destination.

The kissing began again. I knew now what those kisses meant and what would happen once they reached a fever pitch. I was right, but I was beyond ready for wherever his hands travelled on the map of my trembling skin. He leaned over me, and for the first time, I was on my back with this Goliath of a man’s weight about to bear down on me. His right hand held my face by the chin as his lips pried mine apart. His tongue again slid into my mouth, and I was so enamored with those kisses that I didn’t notice his hand had moved down over my breasts and beyond to my hip, and continued its exploration until it came to rest between my thighs.

I gasped into his unyielding kisses, as the source of my ache and passion was met with the sandy surface of his fingers again and again and again, until a jagged pain struck me, when he slid two of them deep inside. He growled into my ear as I bit down on his shoulder to keep from crying out. At about the time I thought I’d faint, the pain gave way to astonishing pleasure and the burning inside of me peaked with a release that felt like a flock of gulls taking off from the surface of the sea.

I clawed at him and arched my back off the bed. My body shook, and I believed in that moment we were floating. Once his fingers slid freely within me, he stopped, and I fell softly back into the sheets. I opened my eyes to find him kissing my shoulder and my breasts, and I clutched his face and turned it to meet mine. Once he heard the satisfaction in my sighs and saw the desire in my eyes for more, he climbed atop me.

I struggled to catch my breath as I watched those huge arms flexed, supporting his weight. He balanced himself on one hand and stroked my face with the other before positioning himself to enter me.  Once we locked eyes with each other, I couldn’t look away again. He was expressing his every thought and pleasure without saying a word, and I listened intently. He kissed and caressed my face as I gasped and panted with every stroke he took, until at last, I knew he had finally succeeded.

A final sting shot up and through me, and I cried out as a tear escaped my eye, and he wiped it away. I could see he was trying so hard not to hurt me, but I knew when I watched him reach that long desired level of comfort inside of me, there would be no way for him to stop. The pleasure in his face was so gratifying, I couldn’t stop kissing it. I kissed his eyes, his forehead, and his mouth. Once the pain subsided, we rose and fell like a wave, rolling together like the tides, until after some time, the crest of his passionate glory crashed at last into the shore.

Three

THE GOOD BOOK SAYS

“
Proverbs: eighteen; There are three things that are too amazing for me, four that I do not understand: the way of an eagle in the sky, the way of a snake on a rock, the way of a ship on the high seas, and the way of a man with a maiden
,” Pastor Chandler recited. I glanced up at my groom and blushed as his eyes smiled and that corner of his mouth curled up.

As we parted late into the evening the night before, Rasmus insisted we marry the very next day—Sunday morning, instead of the coming Saturday. Pastor Chandler was pleased to officiate, but insisted on us joining in his Sunday service and then doing the ceremony at the end. I laughed to myself as he spoke the words. I could see Rasmus did as well. Knowing we’d had our wedding night already was shameful enough, but as I gazed upon his handsome smile and that look in his eyes he reserved only for me, I knew our wedding night wasn’t nearly over.

“As the words say in Mark, Chapter ten, verses six through nine;
But at the beginning of creation God made them male and female. For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh. So they are no longer two, but one. Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate
. I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride."

As with each and every kiss, Rasmus consumed my soul and left me feeling weak and sated. The sated part was wonderful, but the weakness I was as yet uncomfortable with. As much as I wanted him to be mine forever, the notion of feeling less than him and weaker was not sitting well, nor was I able to control it. I almost choked on the “love, honor, and obey,” but when I heard Rasmus repeat those words as well, the sting of that slap wasn’t quite so sharp on my cheek. However, whether marriage was something I’d wanted or not, I was now his bride. Although I should have been crying and gushing with pride at that moment, I was distracted and conflicted, and praying it didn’t show.

Our wedding brunch was lovely on such short notice. However, we did suffer some odd and curious glances as to why, as we’d heard it whispered, we rushed to the altar. I was certain there were several guests in the church with the less-than-Christian idea that I was hiding a little secret beneath my silk and lace. If they only knew how we’d both suffered for months wanting each other, maybe then they could have all excused our fall back to earth the night before our vows, having sailed that chaste and virtuous ocean for so long.

To be honest, I didn’t need any of this. I didn’t need Rasmus to stand before God and everyone else to know he loved me. This wedding was the first time in as long as I could remember that I’d done anything for anyone that I really didn’t deem as necessary. This was about what Rasmus wanted. Even after I told him as we laid together that he didn’t have to marry me to be my lover, he seemed aghast at the thought of not only making love to me but living with me as well, without God’s blessing.

“Ivory, I won’t have your name dragged through the mud,” he’d said. He worried about appearances and legalities, and knowing what I did of his past, I was surprised the man had held on so tightly to such things. Here he was a fugitive and what he claimed to be—a former pirate— and yet he was concerned with the honor of our love for each other and how I would be perceived by the public. We could have easily lied and simply called each other husband and wife, but my love for him overshadowed any care I had for what I felt was necessary. As long as he understood that being his wife would not alter my plans to go after those smugglers, I was willing to give him this day. Honestly, if letting him put this ring on my finger meant he’d make love to me every night and I’d have him all to myself from this day forward, I’d have stood up there in nothing but my hat and said, “I do.”

After our wedding brunch and a showering of congratulations and gifts, we said our goodbyes and were whisked away in a fine carriage Rasmus had procured for the occasion. He wanted desperately to show off the lovely cottage he’d built for us and have me once again all to himself. All I could think of was getting out of the layers of fabric and lace, although I did long for the quiet of the cove and the feel of the sea again.

“I figured you may be needing this,” Rasmus said as he reached into his magnificent blue wedding coat and handed me a flask.

“What about you? Having never had the responsibility of a bride before, are you sure you don’t need a bit of liquid courage as well?” I laughed as I took a swig.

“I’m not afraid of ye, little Razor. I’m madly in love with ye, and courage has nothing to do with it.” He took the flask from my hand and pulled me against him, again smothering me with his kisses as he gently brushed his knuckles over the crest of my rounded bosom.

“Razz, have you regrets about last night?” I asked as he lifted my left hand and kissed my ring.

“How could I regret anything to do with loving you? Last night wasn’t planned, but I would change nothing of a single moment we’ve spent together since the first time we met. My only concern was in your silence afterward. For a time after you’d left me last night, I was concerned you were afraid you’d made a mistake and wouldn’t go through with the wedding. Since I’d like for us to start off in our life together honestly, I hardly slept all night worrying I’d done something terribly wrong.”

“Why would you think such a thing?”

“I don’t know. You see it has always been my hope that I wouldn’t make love to you until we were wed, but I broke that promise to you and to myself last night. I was afraid that you thought less of me for taking you the way I did. I don’t believe I gave you the choice to deny me, and for that reason, I tossed and turned…well, other reasons as well,” he said as his voice softened and his eyes wandered out the carriage window.

I reached over and took his hand tightly and said, “Your promise was not to have me until you believed I loved you, not when we were wed. Our marriage is, to me, a slip of parchment. Our love is what truly matters, and I believe we’ve had that much longer than one night.”

By the time we reached the dock, my lips were again sore and swollen, and my body was alit with the flames of passion so hot that had it not been for the prying eyes of the passers-by, I’d have torn that wedding suit from his body and rained my lust down on him like a thunderstorm. As it was, his huge paw had found its way beneath the layers of my gown and pulled my stockings down and away from my thighs. He squeezed and kneaded at them until I nearly wrenched his arm off to push his hand higher between them to where that flame burned for him to stamp it out.

“Darling, we have forever for me to please you,” he whispered against my neck through his kisses, and as he did, the carriage came to a stop. “Pull yourself together, love. We’re here.”

Rasmus had also secured a small sloop to carry us to our private beach. He’d hired several of the
Lady Jade’s
crew to sail her so that we could further enjoy each other’s company for the brief voyage. With only the previous night’s sampling of what I longed for much more of, the journey to our private cove and our new little home seemed twice as long. However, once we reached our little piece of paradise, I knew I wouldn’t be able to restrain myself, and at last, from now on, I wouldn’t have to—on land at least.

I was no longer that girl to be seduced and persuaded with his passionate kisses until I turned to liquid in his arms. I enjoyed our sex, and even after several hours of lovemaking the night before, I wanted more. Although he’d confessed in the carriage of his lack of sleep over me, I too hadn’t slept. Not out of worry that I hadn’t pleased him, but of the hunger to please him again. His sounds and breath and the pleasure on his face were like a drug to me, and I wanted it now. I needed more of it, and I wanted him not to relay that information through his own actions, but to allow me to show him of my own volition.

“Oh Razz!” I cried out as the cottage came into view.

“She’s all yours, lass.”                           

“Ours, you mean. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier little place.”                           

The evening sun was already sitting low in the sky, and our sweet, yet slightly barren, new home glowed like a golden temple in the Caribbean twilight. It sat back in a clearing about twenty yards from shore and was supported above the sand by three feet of brick and mortar. He’d painted it white with green shutters on the windows, and it looked like a miniature of one of those fine Georgian-style mansions, complete with a wrap-around porch. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it and stumbled as I climbed into the dinghy to go ashore.

“She needs a woman’s touch,” Rasmus said as he lifted me from the dinghy and carried me all the way to the front door.

“Well, then we’ll have to bring Cass over here, because I have no talent for such things.” I laughed as he struggled a bit to open the door.

“You can set me down, Razz,” I said, but didn’t mean it in the least. I loved when he lifted me like a feather, and even with my added weight and my gown, he still hardly drew a heavy breath. Not until we were inside, did he at last put me down.

As he lit the lantern on our very own kitchen table, I walked behind him and stroked his broad back through his coat and then let my hand travel lightly over his bottom and around to his waist. He looked down at me and smiled as he blew out the match and then slipped his right arm around my waist. I wasn’t as interested in him romancing me as I was in wanting him inside of me, and that body of his pressed against mine again. I pulled away from him with a soft laugh and reached up and slid his coat away from his shoulders.

“What spell are you spinning now, lass?” he asked as I hung his coat on a hook on the back of the door and sashayed over to him. I spread my hands out and across his waistcoat and began to unbutton it. “We’ve a lot of clothes on, little Razor. By the time ye get me out of all of this and that bushel of silk you’re wearin’, I’ll be bouncing grandchildren on my knee,” he said with a laugh and pulled me hard against him.

“I don’t need to take off my dress,” I whispered up and into his mouth and slid my tongue over his bottom lip before pulling on his neck and kissing him the way he’d been kissing me.

While he was distracted by my aggressive mouth, I slid my hand down over the front of his breeches and sighed when I found him completely engaged in my plot. I slid my other hand from his neck and began pulling and clawing at his buttons and unbuckling his belt, until I finally held that part of him in my hands that had given me so much pleasure and pain the night before. I wanted him, and neither his ideals of what I should be nor that bloody cumbersome gown was going to stop me.

He moaned with pleasure, and his hands slid to my breasts as I roughly pawed at him and pushed his breeches down to his knees. I tipped him back onto the settee as if he weighed no more than a feather and continued kissing him roughly and deeply, working my hand against him. When I could wait no longer, I stood back, reached up and under my gown, and pulled at the bloomers that had been forced on me.  I untied them, letting them fall to the floor. I quickly kicked them aside, and without even removing my shoes and stockings, I knelt over him. His hands flew from my breasts to under my gown, and he held me there for a moment with his eyes, but I knew where I wanted him and guided him there until he filled me completely.

I gasped at the now familiar sting of bliss and again, after several moments, the tenderness within me faded into the throbbing ache that drove me onto him over and over. I closed my eyes and leaned back as that wave hit me. I trembled uncontrollably and the sounds that rose out of me were unlike anything I’d heard before. He clung to me, watching desire wash over my face until, as my eyes strained open, I heard that familiar sound I loved rise up from his chest. I was still shaking when his hands dug into my flesh. He pulled me down so hard, I cried out and bit my lower lip as I fell against him. His chest rose and dropped, lifting me as we drifted together back to Earth, and his heart beat against my ear so loudly I thought it would burst.

    “You’re as fast a learner as I’ve ever known, little Razor,” he panted and kissed the top of my head.

“You’ve much to learn as well. I’ve so many ideas in this head of mine that it may take a while before I let you out of my sight, let alone our bed.” I leaned my chin on his chest and sighed.

“I may have over-packed my bag for this trip,” he laughed as he leaned over to pick up our trunk to carry it into the bedroom.

“I doubt you’ll need a stitch of clothes until we need supplies,” I said with a sly glance over my shoulder at him as I balled up my bloomers and stuffed them in the trunk.

He shook his head at me and rubbed at his beard. “Can ye cook?” he asked me with a raised eyebrow.

“I can’t even boil an egg.” I chuckled, following him into the bedroom.

“Strangely enough, that doesn’t bother me in the least.” He let go of the trunk with a bang and swept me up in his embrace. “I won’t soil this day with my expectations or my need to protect you from the world, but I’ll remind you in some way, every day from now on, that you’re all that’s standing between me and death.”

I was puzzled by his words, and as he released me from our embrace and carried on with sorting out our things, I furrowed my brow and asked him, “What do you mean, standing between you and death?”

He turned back to me in the doorway, and his face took on that frighteningly cold, flat expression I’d seen only when he was fresh from a bloody fight. “It means from now until I die, I’ll love you, and should I lose you first, I’m as good as dead anyway.”