AT SEA – then
"What did you think you were doing out there? People go overboard in swells that high." He leaned against one of the posts, dripping a puddle around his feet.
"You were sliding over the side." Wendy used her best future teacher voice, the one that her mother used when the boys were misbehaving. "Someone had to get the rope to you." For the second time in the last few days, her dress was soaked, this time from the waves and rain. She began unbuttoning the bodice, gazing longingly of the white nightgown she'd been using to sleep in the last few nights. Not that she wanted to think too much about why a woman's gown was on this all male pirate ship, but she'd been glad to have it.
"And I told you to stay in the cabin."
She was getting better at taking off a wet dress, so this time she peeled it down each arm before she rolled it off her body. "I may be a woman, but I am not incapable of helping." She picked the dress up to hang; the boning in her corset was biting into her skin and the wet laces began to tighten as they dried. Looking his way, she saw him dash a hand through his hair, drops of water running down his exposed neck.
"You are the most head-strong, reckless, unmanageable piece of baggage I have ever seen." He gave a long-suffering sigh.
"Well, I must say, this whole trip has been ill-fated. I've been wet since the first time I saw you and if I don't get this corset off, I think I might just shatter." She struggled with wet cording that only knotted and caught as she tried to untie it.
"Ah, love, you are a complete innocent, aren't you?" He closed the few steps to where she stood and caught her chin with the flat of his hook, a curious tension in his body as he sought her gaze.
"Will you please help me out of this torture device before I can't breathe?" She turned and presented her back to him, catching a glimpse of them in the oval mirror stand as he slipped his hand to rest on her waist. His head dipped to her ear, and she shivered as his breath tickled, moving the drying curls, but she still felt the need to argue with him. "I am not innocent. I will have you know I have had a number of beaus and even kissed a few." Even to her, that sounded lame and childlike.
"A few sloppy kisses?" He hooked the offending laces and tugged her back until she bumped into his chest. Despite the wet clothes, she could feel his heat warming her; chest against her shoulder, his hips cradling the curve of her buttocks. Growing up with brothers, Wendy knew enough about male bodies to know what the bulge she felt pressing against her meant. But she had never been told about the frissons of thrill that traveled up her spine or the pooling of heat that made her heart beat faster. "I can take this off. And I can show you what it means to be wet and aching with need. But be warned. If you offer, I will take you. All of you."
He pressed his lips to the crook of her neck, a light kiss that did more damage to her nerves, firing off pulses of need. Another followed, and another; the scruff on his face tickled her skin, and Wendy found herself thinking of her life at home. The suitors who looked for a wife and mother, someone to run their homes and parade their wealth for their peers. Life in a box, a lovely velvet haze of money, but still a box.
He continued to brush his lips up her neck, behind her ear; with a languid motion, he licked the outer circle of her ear "Take it off," she whispered, decision made.
"As you wish, milady." With the tip of the hook, he sliced carefully down the interwoven laces, parting them easily until the corset fell free of her body, leaving nothing but the thin muslin of her shift. Eyes on their reflection, she saw, and felt, his hand slip up and cup her breast, thumb brushing her nipple through the cloth. "Oh," was all she managed to gasp as her body responded, puckering and hardening under his touch.
"You ready to shatter for me, Wendy?" He turned her around in his arms, and she thought he was going to kiss her, but his head dipped down further, and he pulled the hard nipple into his mouth, arching her backwards. Her hips wiggled, some deep seated impulse, and he groaned, the vibrations working downward. Metal tip caught the edge of the material and he lifted the shift up and over her head before his mouth returned, sucking in the fullness even as his hand stroked her other breast. His wet clothes were cool against her overheated skin; she burrowed her hands into his shoulders, shivering.
"Shouldn't you, I mean, I think you should …" she couldn't seem to form a coherent sentence as each pull of his mouth made her body move, straining towards him.
"Mmmm?" Eyes lifted and his mouth left her; she felt the absence in the pit of her stomach, a gasp of protest tumbling from her lips. That cocky smile was back, a dangerous glitter in his eyes. "You want something?"
"Clothes … wet and cold …"
"Ah, yes. I do believe you're right." He scooped her up and deposited her on the bed, stepped back and pulled his own shirt off, tossing it casually away. With an economy of movement, he shed his boots, pausing long enough to wink before he untied and slipped out of his pants, revealing his jutting manhood among a nest of dark hair. He was large and Wendy's mouth went dry, a little sliver of fear ran through her. "Come now," Killian said as crawled onto the bed, hand tracing a design on her thigh. "You ran into a storm to throw me a rope. You have more courage than many men I've met. Surely, you aren't afraid?" The bandage covering the circular bite on her leg was wet and barely hanging on; he tugged and it came off easily. Turning her leg in his hand, he brought his mouth to kiss the wound, running his tongue around the red ring of teeth marks. "Your first battle scar," he laughed.
Doubts left her as Killian's lips made their way up her leg, past the crook of her knee, his tongue teasing the sensitive spot there. The higher he went the more she burned, unable to keep still, fisting her hands in the blanket. Even the lightest touch on her inner thigh jolted into her, and then he pushed her legs apart, his dark head dipping to the most private part of her, fingers parting the lips there, breath tingling as it brushed over her.
"You aren't …" She breathed surprise. Lifting his head, his blue eyes met hers.
"I do want I want, remember. And I want to taste you" and he brought his tongue to the rosy nub, stroking her then sucking it lightly.
Wendy's world narrowed to the pleasure that roared through her; nothing existed except the feeling of Killian's mouth. She moaned, just getting used to the intimate touch, when his tongue ran further down, circling her before he dipped inside. Arching upwards, she cried out, muscles clenching as he continued, waves of ecstasy driving her to an edge; she held back, half-afraid of falling over that precipice, but Killian's mouth was relentless. She had no choice but to let go, tremors racking her as she experienced her first orgasm, quaking her to her very core.
"Shall I always keep you wet and shattered now?" he chuckled as he moved up her body, dropping light kisses on her belly button and her breasts until he gazed at her flushed face. When the head of his cock nudged at her, her eyes flew open. Easing in, he kissed her as he filled her, pausing as he felt the barrier. "Hold on," he murmured and surged the rest of the way in one thrust; she bucked at the quick pain, and Killian swallowed her cry with his mouth, waiting until he felt her relax around him. When he began to move, slowly at first, only twinges remained for her, quickly replaced by the ebb and flow of him, like the rocking of the waves, each thrust pushing her back up, higher than before. She began to move with him lifting her hips, meeting him halfway.
"So tight, so good," he groaned, panting now, tucking the hook flat by her head, her hands tightening on his back. "Ah, Darling Wendy, come for me again." His fingers found her clit, teasing and rubbing as the pressure inside her coiled even tighter, her eyes glazing; with a pinch of thumb and forefinger, she rocked beneath him, losing her mind to the pleasure coursing through her. She was aware of his final thrusts, pulling out of her, warmth against her belly, but she floated above it, only slowly coming back to her body.
"That's my fearless Wendy," he said with a smile. "So alive, so hot." He chuckled as he nipped her neck. "Such a storm of your own."
"You are not what they say you are, Killian." She stroked a hand down the muscles of his back.
"Don't be fooled, love," blue eyes grew serious. "I am exactly what they say. Ruthless and heartless, that's me." She could see he believed his words, and yet she knew that heartless meant he once had a heart to lose.