wouldn't last. Nobody expected a commitment from a pirate. You knew he would steal, though. Your breath, your good sense, your ability to make more token protests, or your insistence on negotiating some favorable terms. Still, she hesitated another moment.
Griffin was as persuasive in his own way as Rebecca had been in hers. "You need to give me what I want, Jane." He slid one arm around the small of her back even as his thumb kept up that slow back-and-forth. "You need to give it to me the way I want."
Seduction dripped from the low-voiced words. Jane swayed toward him, and when he made yet another pass across her mouth, she dipped her chin and sucked his thumb inside. His breath hitched, and the reflexive twitch of his arm jerked her closer against him.
He was aroused. The bulge in his jeans was hard against her, and she couldn't help the way her hips pressed into it.
"Oh, no, you don't." He tucked his fingers in the waistband of her shorts and tugged, canting back her hips. "What part of the 'way I want' don't you understand?"
In answer, she ran her tongue over the pad of his thumb. He grunted, then popped it free of her clinging lips. He placed his own on hers and kissed her, that helpless heat washing over her again. Her fingers curled in the sides of his shirt, and she hung on to him as his tongue plunged inside her, possessing her, plundering, as only a pirate could.
With his hand still fisted in her shorts, he walked her backward, she retreating as directed by the forward press of his hard thighs. On the hallway runner, she stumbled, and he was forced to yank her close to keep her upright. She moaned as they were pressed together, and she ground her pelvis against his, needy for deeper contact.
His mouth lifted and he cursed. "You stop," he said, his eyes boring into hers. "I'm going to make it good for you."
"It is good," she said. Her hands slid up his sides and curled around his neck. "Kiss me again."
He succumbed to her demand for a moment, but broke this kiss too soon. His hands grabbed her wrists and he unwrapped her arms, then spun her around so she faced forward. Still holding on to her, he herded her down the hall to his room.
Inside it was dimly lit and smelled of Griffin, layers of citrus and sage, peppered by temper. He hadn't made his bed, and its sheets lay rumpled and wild, just like the man himself. As well she knew, he didn't sleep much...and she realized that tonight his insomnia might keep her up too. She trembled.
"That's right, honey-pie," he said, his breath blowing hot against her ear. "We're gonna get you all shivery." His hands went to the hem of the sweater, and he lifted it, sliding the thick material along her body. It brushed against her braless breasts, catching on the already-stiff jut of her nipples.
Griffin groaned as he tossed the garment away with one hand, widening the fingers of the other over her chest. His long fingers were able to reach each sensitive peak. He nuzzled her neck, his mouth hot against the tender skin.
Jane writhed, rubbing her backside against his groin. Then he threw off his own shirt, and she moaned as his chest crowded her back. His fingers plucked at her nipples, and her head lolled against his shoulder. She tilted her face. "Please, Griffin." His mouth covered hers.
Again, he plundered. Again, she pushed back, wiggling against him. He muttered, breaking the kiss so he could turn her around. They looked at each other, their pants coming fast and heavy, the sound louder than the ever-present breath of the ocean outside.
He bent his head, nipped her bottom lip. Jane's womb clenched at the little pain, her nipples curled tighter. She ran her palms up his sides, her thumbs riding the rippling muscles. He grunted into their kiss, and then he slanted his head for another fit. When she sucked on his tongue, his hands found the soft lace of her shorts and he yanked.
They fell to her ankles.
Griffin stepped back. There was a flush across the bridge of his nose. His mouth was wet, his gaze intensely blue in the half-light of the room. "You wore that underwear for me," he said.
How could she have? How could she have known he would choose tonight to undress her? They were more lace, a