Lucky's Lady (The Caversham Chronicles Book 4) (34 page)

"Home is with my sister for now, as I do not yet have property." He seated himself next to her on the bench. "But I have given it some thought recently."

She let the comment pass. She couldn't let herself believe she was the reason. And she didn't want him to want more from her than she could give him right then. When his business was finalized, she needed for him to go back to England, hopefully leaving her with a piece of the magic they shared. If she wanted to know anything about him at all, it was only so she could tell her son or daughter about their father one day.

Right now though, the only thing on her mind was conceiving her miracle before her husband died. She had to in order for her babe to legally be her husband's, the way she and Mr. Watkins had discussed. Mary-Michael knew from her discussion with Becky that it could take more than the one weekend she and Lucky had last summer to conceive. So until Lucky was gone from her life, she would take whatever he gave her. Her captain had awakened something within her that now needed to be fed, just as her body needed sustenance for living. It was something no other man had aroused in her before and she didn't think another ever could.

And there was always the dark threads hiding beneath the surface—threads of guilt for committing the sins of adultery, lying, and coveting what was not hers. If Mary-Michael let that dark guilt come forward, it would ruin her chances for success. It would drive Lucky away, and it would make her fearful of ever reaching for her dream again.

They ate the light dinner Becky packed for him of sliced meats and cheeses with crusty bread and dried fruits. And just when Mary-Michael didn't think she had room to eat anything else, Lucky uncovered a generous slice of pecan pie Becky had hidden away.

Mary-Michael smiled as he handed her a spoon. "You must not get pecan pie in England, because it's what you've had for dessert every night we've been together."

"What can I say? It's my new favorite." He placed the spoonful of filling into his open mouth and when he closed his lips around it, he closed his eyes and sighed.

"My friend makes a delicious pie."

He met her gaze and grinned, those golden-brown eyes dancing with mischief. "I know, and this was the last piece. I had to fight off rivals to get it." He licked his spoon of pie filling.

"A fight?" She took another bite and continued with a full mouth. "Over a mere piece? I wouldn't fight for less than a whole pie."

"My dear woman, you have no idea what I would fight for."

Their eyes met and she felt the draw of his lips as they begged her to kiss them. She wasn't sure who leaned toward whom, and it didn't matter really when she tasted the sugary sweetness on his mouth as they explored each other with unreserved passion. Mary opened her mouth for his invasion and relished the slow, deliberate teasing of his tongue across the surface of her teeth, tickling the inside of her lip. She moaned as she reached for him, placing her hands on his thighs.

As their tongues dueled, she soon found herself sitting on his lap, facing him, with one of his arms loosely around her back, the other lightly resting on her hip. Her arms had somehow moved themselves to drape around his neck and she lightly ran her fingers over the muscled ridges of his bare upper back. He was warm and soft, but the muscles under the surface were firm, bulging all over.

Breaking the kiss, he traced a finger over her jaw and down from her chin to the valley between her breasts. His touch scorched a trail everywhere he touched. It caused all sensation to pool in the aching area between her legs. Mary-Michael shifted on his lap, the unmoving table pushing into her back. This caused her to nestle his erection. She wanted him inside her again but her clothes were in the way. She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt and tried to remove it. Lucky helped her, and taking the thing from her as he brought his lips down on hers again. She met the thrust of his tongue parry for parry, giving no quarter, for he gave her none. One of his hands cupped her breast while the other worked on the buttons of her breeches helping her out of that last barrier.

He ran his thumbs over her already sensitive nipples and the resulting shock reverberated straight to her womb, forcing a groan from her. She fought for breath, as she inhaled the musky soap he used. Being with him, like this, was so intoxicating and enthralling that she began to feel that familiar clenching sensation begin to build inside her.

His hot mouth came down on her nipple forcing a moan from her. "Oh yes, Lucky." Holding his head against her breast, she rocked in his lap as his tongue tickled the tip, driving her insane with the need to have him inside her.

She stood and began to remove the remainder of her clothing as he watched. It was thrilling and erotic to have this man before her, wanting her as much as she wanted him. When she was finally naked before him, one of his hands cupped her at the junction of her thighs. "You're so wet," he whispered as his fingers slid between the folds of her sex.

"Because I want you again, Lucky."

Her legs parted for him, and she encouraged him further while she tried desperately to catch her breath. He used his fingers inside her to draw forth her moisture. In and out, they mimicked the action of his shaft inside her, and when his thumb found her sensitive button again, she threw her head back and cried out, begging him to finish her off.

Mary-Michael pressed into his hand and he stroked her fast, giving her what she needed. Her insides wound tighter and tighter until she felt another orgasm crash through her, leaving her an incoherent mess.

Lucky stood, removing everything until he was finally as naked as she. Obviously he enjoyed their love play too, because his manhood was proud and erect once again. Falling back into the room's only chair he led Mary-Michael to stand before him. Reaching around him, she grabbed the chair back and straddled him. She lowered herself into position, nestling his arousal between the juncture of her thighs. He shifted under her, and she felt his ready erection beneath her, poised for entry. Inch by inch he stretched her, filled her. She watched as his enormous shaft slid into her. It was erotic and mesmerizing at the same time. She felt powerful that she had the ability to arouse him to this magnitude.

As if he knew her thoughts, he said, "You don't know what you're doing to me, Mary."

"I think I do." She kissed his temple and forehead, needing the feel of his skin under her lips. "You're hard. You need release." She seated herself to the hilt and her walls clenched around him. "I'm empty and in dire need of filling. Help me, Lucky, so we can both gain relief from this torment."

Then she began to move on him, riding him slowly at first, then a little faster. She rocked her hips, trying to take him in as deep as she could get him. His moans told her he enjoyed what she was doing. She felt the involuntary, rhythmic clenching of her internal muscles which sent her nearer the edge of another shattering climax, when all of the sudden her lover stopped.

"You're killing me at this pace. I need a faster rhythm." He stood, his member still embedded, her legs wrapped about his hips, and carried her to the bed. He lowered them both to the mattress and began to pound into her with his urgent need for release.

"So much for your promise to go slower," she teased.

Her words were met with a growl, as though he couldn't form coherent thought. He thrust into her as deeply as he could, and she encouraged him, wanting him to find his release. This was what she wanted, what she needed from him. This man and no other made her feel like a sensual woman. One who could arouse her lover and satisfy his baser needs.

Her husband might have given her many things, but never this. Only Lucky could ever give her this kind of passion.

And God willing, Lucky would be the one to give her a child.

She brought her knees up and grabbed his bottom, urging him to bring them both to completion. Within minutes she again felt her body reaching for the fulfillment it needed, then shatter in climax they both wanted so desperately.

With a final, deep thrust he met her in her shattering orgasm. Mary-Michael cried out Lucky's name and held onto her lover as he filled her with life.

 

T
he following morning, just after sunrise, Lucky left his cabin to get some breakfast when he heard Ian's booted steps headed his way. He bumped shoulders with Ian trying to get past him in the narrow passageway. Lucky mumbled an apologetic greeting and continued on his way to find coffee.

"Good morning," Ian said, as the two of them walked toward the galley on
Avenger.
The smile on his friend's face irritated Lucky's mood further. "With as windy as it is right now, it will prove to be a challenging morning, but it shouldn't be too terrible a task."

Lucky could have sworn his friend had swallowed a flute of French bubbly he was so breezy and cheerful this morning. It irritated him. And what was this task he was mentioning? He didn't want to think about it. All he wanted was to take that woman, put her over his knees and throttle her for leaving as she did.

"You haven't heard a word I've said. What's gotten into you?" Ian asked.

"Nothing," Lucky grumbled, the scent of food and coffee growing closer. "I'm hungry and didn't get a lot of sleep."

"Ah..." Ian said, his voice giving off more than just a tinge of superiority. He leaned and whispered to Lucky, "Redhead on the brain?"

Lucky just glared at Ian as he pulled open the door to the galley. "Can I help you with something?" Yes, he was snarling like a cur with a sore paw. Ian would just have to deal with it. "Why are you breaking fast on my boat? You have two of your own."

"I'm afraid things are in a disarray on both of them right now. And I didn't think you'd mind if I came over."

Lucky muttered a curse as his friend looked him over. Lucky cocked a brow, daring Ian to make further remark on his mood. The two men went toward Lucky's cook and he handed each of them a generous ration of hot ham and fresh buttered biscuits.

"Two lads from the tavern delivered a big ham and two baskets filled with hot biscuits this morning before sunrise." The cook pointed to the mugs at the end of the galley counter. "There's coffee on the fire over yonder, an' clean mugs off to the side," he added.

"Thank you, Goran," Ian said. Turning to Lucky he said, "Have I told you how much I have enjoyed being home, specifically for the ham and biscuits. As I was having dinner last night, David Parks and I were recollecting our childhood here. He was a friend of mine when we were young. Now he's married also, and has two sons. He married Mrs. Watkins' friend, Becky. They own the inn and tavern here in the village."

Ian's chatter was annoying him. "Is there a reason for the jabbering? Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, you can. We're hanging sails on my
Lady
today. We could use your help." Ian followed Lucky as he left the galley. "After you've had a few cups of coffee first. I don't want you biting the heads off my men."

Carrying his plate and mug, he made for his cabin again. Lucky sighed. Neither Ian nor anyone else on this boat deserved this lashing out because she'd left his bed in the middle of the night. "Fine. Did I tell you that we're scheduled to load cargo Friday, all day? Both of us. That means we can leave on Saturday." The sooner he left the better. And if he was lucky he'd find some sweet thing that might take his mind off the married amber-eyed vixen that was winding her way into his heart. If he didn't pull away soon he didn't think he would ever be able to.

"In a hurry now? You don't have to be back until June for Isabel's ball."

"Are we not in a business to make money? I can make two round trips before then."

Lucky reached his cabin, Ian on his heels. When he left the galley he'd hoped to leave Ian's cheerful mug behind, but the pest just continued to follow him, popping a strawberry into his smug mouth as he crossed into his quarters. If he could lock the man out of his cabin, he would. But what would that accomplish, aside from his appearing childish? He put the plate and mug on the table and sat. "My food is getting cold. I said I would help. I'll be over later."

"Good, Mary-Michael said you might be agreeable to helping."

He cocked a brow. "Oh? You've seen her already this morning?" Having no idea what time she left his cabin because he'd fallen into a sound sleep after their second round of lovemaking, Lucky couldn't be sure how much sleep she'd had. Knowing what time it was now, he calculated that it couldn't have been more than a few hours. He didn't want her working herself senseless just because he was here—yet another reason for him to leave soon.

"She was directing which sail went where as the sun was rising." Obviously finding his mood amusing, Ian chuckled, irritating him all the more.

"Stubborn wench," he mumbled. "She doesn't need anyone."

"Ahh, that's where you are wrong, my friend. Mary-Michael is a woman tired of being strong." Ian took a bite from the piece of ham on his knife, and spoke through his chewing. "She may not have said the words, but it's written all over her face."

"I'm afraid that's a lack of sleep you're seeing," Lucky muttered. Blasted woman managed to make the jobs of a dozen men seem simple and effortless. He didn't know how she did what she did, or how long she could continue to keep the pace she did. She was delivering both new boats two months ahead of schedule, ran both operations in the shipyard for her husband, and cared for the man as well. He knew from last summer that she volunteered with the young girls in the children's home, and regularly saw her married friends.

He wondered if she did anything normal, like shop for ribbons and threads.

"What's got you so out of sorts this morning?" Ian asked. "You had, um... dinner... with her last night, and this morning you're walking around like a lion with a thorn in his paw. Why?"