Willa squirmed carefully, trying to find a more comfortable spot on the narrow bunk without unduly arousing the dangerous, excitable fellow her husband’s cock seemed to be. She’d at first been fascinated at how the mere sight of her naked body would send the ruddy-headed creature into spasms of bobbing. She wondered if their elaborate dance of trying to avoid conception was painful to Cullen. Then she chastised herself for such stupid thoughts.
Of course, this had to be difficult for him. He probably wished he could seek the bed of Madame de Santis. She would be more worldly, more knowledgeable, more able to give him pleasure without the wariness of an ignorant virgin.
When Cullen’s strong arms turned her to face him, his easy smile gave her peace. She would come to no harm in the safety of his embrace. He’d been endlessly patient when he could have forced her as many men did with their wives.
He claimed her lips in a long, lingering kiss before feathering soft laps of his tongue at the tender lobes of her ears, down her neck and onto her throat. He finally paused at the expectant bud of her nipple, and for an excruciating moment she feared he’d stop. When she whimpered and pulled him closer, she could feel the rumble of a chuckle down low in his chest.
“Not so long ago, you wished me to the devil. Now you seem to be greedy for my touch.” He shook his head before closing his lips over her tight nipple and suckling hard. She gasped and stiffened, causing him to stop and look up into her eyes. “Have I found something ye like, lass?”
“Please, don’t stop.”
He obeyed, alternating his attention between her two perfectly formed breasts. How had he ever fallen for her pretense to manhood? He dropped one of his hands to the hot wetness at the apex of her thighs and began exploring her depths, first with one finger and then two.
Willa sagged at the realization her own body had betrayed her. She could not deny the mad fever to have Cullen part of her, inside her.
The small corner of Cullen’s brain still working warned him broaching virgin walls while avoiding conception in the narrow bunk would be tricky if not impossible, but the part of his anatomy now commanding the field insisted otherwise.
Not a problem, his cock said.Trust me.
Cullen ignored his baser self and decided the safest course would be to pleasure Willa so thoroughly, she might overlook the pain and not notice his hasty withdrawal later.
He levered himself onto his hands to either side of Willa and nudged her thighs apart with his knee. Beneath him, her dark eyes widened and she stiffened in the dim glow from the candle stub on her sea chest. He shook his head and put a finger to her lips before lifting the backs of her knees and pulling her closer. Her creamy skin formed goosebumps when he tightened his grip and slid her soft bottom onto his thighs.
“Don’t, please,” she muttered, and tried to twist out of his grasp.
“I only want to pleasure you, Willa. Please believe me when I say I will never hurt you.”
When he bent over and gently laved at her sex with his tongue, the heat of a flush spread from her cheeks to her breasts. At first tense and mortified, she eased gradually and slumped back onto the bunk, her hands above her head.
When he pulled her knees up over his shoulders and probed inside her with his tongue, she fell apart, her sex throbbing in time with his thrusts. She breathed in the peculiar scent of their mingled body fluids heated by their closeness, their bones rocking together in the tight space.
“Do you still trust me?” Cullen had paused to rearrange their bodies on the bunk. He’d placed a pillow beneath her back and leaned forward, nudging at her entrance with his cock. He held his weight up over her, and his eyes darkened.
“Yes,” Willa insisted, impatience in her voice, and scooted closer as if to hurry him. He leaned back on his heels, holding up a hand to stop her. “Dinna rush this, because I’m doing my best not to hurt you.”
She stilled at his words, her long, dark hair tumbling over her shoulders, her mouth open slightly in surprise. She loved the way her husband’s voice lapsed back into the lilt of the Highlands when he was intent, or overcome with emotion. That he should feel that way in the midst of pleasuring her flooded Willa with intense need.
After another tentative probe with a finger into her wetness, he leaned closer and slid his cock into her tight sheath. She winced a bit when he pushed against her barrier, but then he claimed her mouth in a deep kiss while the pain passed.
“No. Don’t stop.” She nudged up against him, seeking to reclaim the familiar stabs of pleasure he’d brought her to the night before. He let out a groan and moved with her in long strokes until she shook with release. His sudden, inelegant clamber off her body made her forget the danger, made her reach for him to come back in spite of her doubts and fears.
When he rejoined her a few minutes later, he curled behind her on the small bunk and pulled the blanket over them.
“I’m sorry you had to leave…that way.” She stuttered a bit in unaccustomed embarrassment. “I’ll understand if you don’t want me to stay.”
When she made as if to return to her own bunk, he tightened his grip. “You’re my wife, Willa. You belong here, with me.”
“I don’t want to be a temptation. I should…” At that, her attempted apology was interrupted by the soft, whuffing snores she’d come to know well through many nights on the other side of their blanketed “wall.” Her husband had once again fallen into deep slumber mid-argument. Only tonight, he was next to her, blowing little puffs of air behind her ear. Willa clenched her fists in frustration. How could she ever win an argument with an intractable Scot who fell asleep in the middle of her logical explanations? She finally nodded off, clutching one of his hands between her breasts.
Chapter Fourteen
Later,when Cullen had finished work on the surgeon’s log and headed to the upper deck for a late evening walk, Willa pulled her worn, leather-covered journal from her sea chest and sharpened her pencil with a small knife. She’d just curled up on their bunk and had begun an entry when there was a soft tap at the cabin door.
She considered ignoring the late-night visitor, but feared one of theArethusa’ssailors might be ill. When she opened the door, there stood Ariadne, her loose, unbound hair a soft caramel in the lantern light. The last thing Willa wanted was to invite the woman into her only haven on the ship. Instead, she motioned her in and shut the door behind her.
“If you require Dr. MacCloud’s assistance, I’m afraid he’s still up on the deck, Madame de Santis.”
“No. I’m frightfully healthy. Never seem to get sick. My traveling companion suffers from themal de merenough for both of us.”
