Pirate's Promise (Sentinels of Savannah #5) - Lisa Kessler Page 0,42
two fingers inside her, growling as his tongue worked faster, the vibrations sending her to the edge of oblivion.
She simultaneously wanted release and wanted this to last forever. He brought one hand up to her breast, pinching and teasing her nipple, and her body surrendered. Her inner muscles clenched so tight, her toes might never uncurl. She shouted his name as the orgasm slowed time and left her a quivering mess.
He kissed her tenderly and lifted his head. “You are so delicious.” He lowered her ass back onto the bed and straightened, the tip of his erection barely brushing her core. “And so fucking beautiful.”
She stared up at him, struggling to memorize every line of his face, every touch that made her weak, every sexy word that left his mouth.
Finally, she said, “This is our first time in a bed.”
He nodded, lying over her. “You are my first on the Sea Dog, standing up or otherwise.”
She raised a brow, happier about that information than she should’ve been. “I am your first plundered woman at sea?”
His hips settled between her legs. “Aye,” he whispered against her lips as he entered her.
She moaned into the kiss as he filled her. He was made for her, as impossible as it sounded. They fit. She rolled him over and sat up, riding him slowly.
He smiled up at her, running his hands up her sides until he cupped her breasts.
She covered his hands with hers and ground her hips against him. “You feel so…right.”
Something flashed in his eyes as he looked up at her. “Aye.” He thrust up into her and pulled her down to him, claiming her lips. They kissed over and over as he slid his hand between them. His fingers searched until she gasped.
He broke the kiss and smiled. “Gods, I love hearing pleasure escaping your perfect lips.” He leaned in closer, his breath hot on her ear. “Come with me, Aura.”
Her name had never sounded hotter. Her body tightened as another orgasm claimed her. She dug her nails into his shoulders as she worked her hips faster until he exploded deep inside her. She collapsed onto his chest, sweaty and sated, and…happy.
She listened to his steady heartbeat, wishing they never had to move.
His calloused fingers traced a figure eight on her back, or maybe it was the infinity sign. He had eternity.
Her time was more limited.
She bit back the thoughts, denying reality a chance to ruin this moment for her. Not yet, anyway.
She lifted her head, staring down at him with what was probably a goofy, exhausted smile. “I’m so glad I didn’t die today.”
He laughed and pulled her in for a kiss, rolling them over so she was pinned underneath him. “Me, too.” He rested his forehead against hers, his grin fading. “I’m not ready to go retrieve yer missin’ sword just yet.”
She shook her head, tracing his chiseled jawline with her finger. “Me neither.”
“My crew is counting on me.”
She nodded. “And America is counting on me, they just don’t know it.”
His crooked grin made her heart flutter. “Those bastards don’t know what they’re missin’.”
She rolled her eyes. “I guess we’d better get ready.”
“I can practice being your husband in the shower.” He nibbled her earlobe.
She smiled, unsure if she’d ever been this happy. “You can start by washing my hair.”
He lifted his head, grinning down at her. “Oh, I plan on washing all of you.”
He waggled his eyebrows, and she laughed. If she was the chosen one and something bad happened with the sword, this was a damned good day to go out on.
He scooped her up off the bed and carried her all the way to the tiny shower stall.
She rose on her toes and kissed his lips. “Okay, honey, how long have we been married?”
He surprised her, replying with no trace of his nautical swagger. “Five years now, pumpkin.”
She gave him a wet swat. “Not pumpkin!”
He laughed, and the sound warmed her heart. “Yer so bossy, lass.”
And then the pet name popped in her head and right out of her mouth. “Call me love.”
He searched her eyes and nodded as he bent to kiss her. “Five glorious years, love.”
Oh yeah, she was going to enjoy going undercover with this pirate.
Chapter Fourteen
David finished reading the report and lifted his head. “Are you sure about this?”
Petra, from their occult division, stood in front of his desk. Her red-framed glasses matched her auburn hair. “Ninety percent sure.”
“What does this part mean about the sword ‘hungering’ for blood?”