I breathed in slowly and remained out of view in the fore cabin, listening to him urinate off the balcony. Just thinking about his cock in his hand brought to mind other things I’d heard and seen him doing at that rail.
It still scrambled my mind. For a man who was annoyingly strict, over-precise, and more strait-laced than a preacher at Sunday service, he sure did have a lot of pollution to release at the end of the day.
Had he stroked himself to completion every night before he’d met me? Or was this a new habit inspired by my charming personality?
One evening, in the very near future, I would join him on that balcony and take matters into my own hands. In the literal sense.
I hated him, and at the same time, I longed to pleasure him in ways a refined lady wouldn’t begin to consider.
He was commodore of HMS Blitz, the only one-hundred-gun ship of the line on the sea. But with me, he would be a man, mortal and made of flesh that hardened with the hunger to sink into my velvety sheath and live there until death and beyond.
Or so thought my ego.
As he moved through the aft cabin, grooming and donning clothes, the exterior door to the dining cabin opened. The young soldier who delivered the meals—George was the name I’d pried from him yesterday—stepped in carrying a silver tray. And stopped.
His eyes flitted to me, where I stood beside a chair. They widened, blinked, and darted away. Then he hurried to the table.
“If you have something to say, Georgie, by all means…” I rested a fist on my cocked hip. “Let’s hear it.”
“Madam, y-y-you look…” The platter of dishes rattled as he set it down, losing his grip and poise. “You’re radiant.” His gaze snapped toward the day cabin, and his chin dropped to his cravat. “I mean to say, uh— My apologies, my lord.”
Without another glance in my direction, George swept out of the cabin.
“And that’s how you clear a room.” I started to turn toward the reason for his sudden departure. “Your presence seems to have that effect…”
My voice lost sound as I met Ashley’s gaze.
Hypnotic, shiver-inducing eyes. How unfair for a man to have eyes like that, with lashes so long and silky they cast crescent-shaped shadows on his cheeks. The black fringes made those ocean blue depths dominate his face and everything around him.
My attention lowered to a perfectly proportioned male chest encased in a red waistcoat of the shiniest silk. He was decked in clothing suited to royalty—an immaculately tailored blue frock, thigh-hugging breeches, and gold-buckled shoes. His white hose, made of woven wool, looked as though they’d been melted onto his defined calves.
I didn’t have to stretch my imagination to remember those legs, nude and flexing, as he chased his release.
He openly returned my assessment, his focus caressing my appearance at a leisurely crawl, his expression flat. Empty.
My nerves twisted. As his feet started moving toward me, I stood straighter, preparing for the worst. When he reached my side, his hand went to my hair, his fingers immediately catching on a knot I’d missed.
“I searched for a hairbrush and pins.” My cheeks heated. “I couldn’t find anything to tame—”
“Be silent while I look at you.”
“The laces on the back of my—”
“Quiet, woman.”
He paced a circuit around me, touching my body with only his gaze. Examining. Breathing. Driving me out of my skin. I felt like a target in a spyglass, waiting for the lit match to lower to the touchhole and drop thirty-two pounds of red-hot iron on my arse.
If I could only be so lucky.
After a full circle, he paused before me and stepped close. So close the buttons on his coat snagged on the gown’s embroidery. My heart stuttered as I stared straight ahead, where his cravat tucked into his shirt.
Lifting a hand, his fingers met the taut cords of my neck. Firm pressure guided my head back, exposing the length of my throat. I swallowed, watching him over the tip of my nose.
His eyes lingered on mine then lowered. His head followed, putting his mouth a hairsbreadth above the hollow between my collarbones, fanning warm breaths across my shuddering skin. He hovered there for the longest minute of my life, tarrying on the edge between impulse and restraint.
My heart worked itself to exhaustion, waiting for him to do something more than just…smell me. But I didn’t dare move or speak