The fact that she was determined to put a brave face forward when others facing the possibility of death would not have possessed sufficient courage to do so raised his opinion of her yet another notch.

"The ship is fine. She has been through worse storms."

"What about-"

"-all the ships are fine."

She stepped closer and smiled. Though his hair was wet and his sea-drenched clothes were cold and stuck to his body, his blood was now coursing white-hot.

"The storm is subsiding. There is no need for alarm."

"Thank you. It was kind of you to come to my cabin and inform me of this, to spare me further concern."

He gave her a curt nod. Leave now, his inner voice warned. And he was going to heed it.

As he turned to go, he heard, "Simon?"

She approached and stopped before him, her body now too close for his sanity.

She bit her bottom lip as though she was searching for her next words. There was something different about her tonight.

"Simon, how does a woman ask a man to kiss her?"

He felt as if cold water had just splashed him in the face. "What? What man do you think to ask?" he demanded, seized by an unnerving sense of possessiveness.

"You." Her one word dissolved his ire and tightened his groin. "Do I give you leave? Or...am I to kiss you first?"

He blinked. This couldn't be real. This was one of his many erotic dreams of her. It would only escalate from here, and he would wake up alone. His c.o.c.k rock-hard.

She raised her hand and covered her breast. "Will you...touch me and kiss me here again?"

Christ. If her words weren't enough, seeing her touch herself was too much. He grasped her wrist and pulled her hand away from her breast, unable to muster words while she beguiled him so.

"You cannot ask me to kiss you and touch you and expect me to stop there." How much will did she think he possessed?

"Then don't stop."

His brows shot up. "Do you know what you are asking? What you are giving me leave to do?"

She looked back at the bed. His gaze followed hers, his mind filling with the image of her lying naked under him, taking every hard inch of his c.o.c.k inside. He quashed the groan that surged in his throat.

Capturing her face between his palms, he forced her to look at him. "What you are suggesting will impact on the rest of your life."

"I was hoping it would," she said softly. "You're right about what you have said. Everything you have said. I don't want to just exist. I want to live. Feel alive. I want to know the pleasure you described. I want you to do to me what you did the first day of the voyage. And more."

Good G.o.d. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. "Angelica... I want you too much. I'm no saint..." She's offering herself to you! Practically begging for it. What was he waiting for?

"Just one time, Simon. Just tonight... Show me what the release, the 'ultimate fulfillment' feels like...please..."

That was the prettiest plea he'd ever heard. He hauled her up against him, and had her mouth in an instant, crushing it with savage intensity. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should stop, but as she laced her arms around his neck and returned his heated kiss, all his objections burned away.

Just once was all she wanted. Just once was all he needed to end his s.e.xual suffering. But he was going to make sure she partic.i.p.ated in this debauchery so that she couldn't condemn him in the morning.

"Open your bodice," he murmured. "Offer me those gorgeous b.r.e.a.s.t.s."

He drew back to look at her, her hands sliding from around his neck down to his chest. She glanced at the neckline of her gown and paused. He feared she was vacillating. And he wasn't about to let her stop now.

He brushed his mouth over the sensitive spot below her ear and lightly bit her earlobe, adorable freckle and all, enjoying her little gasp. Cupping her breast, he pinched her excited nipple through her clothing. For his efforts, she rewarded him with a delicious little mew. He held the sensitive tip firmly, letting the pressure build into inflaming throbs.

"Open your bodice, chere. Let me give you what you want," he said in her ear, releasing her nipple, then lightly pinching the other. She whimpered. "You like that, don't you? You want more, no?"

Her quickened breaths warmed his ear. "Yes..."

He released the tip and stroked his thumb across it. He felt her little shiver of excitement all the way down to the end of his c.o.c.k.

"Will...Will you do what you did the last time, Simon?"

"Oh yes."

"You said that...this act between men and women is pleasurable in the extreme. You'll show me...everything?"

"Open your bodice." His voice was gruff with impatience. "I will give you what you're looking for."

He watched as she tried to unfasten her clothing. Garnished with bows of ribbon down the front, the bodice posed a challenge for her nervous fingers.

His patience snapped. He pulled her up against him, captured her lush mouth, penetrating it with his tongue. His eager c.o.c.k twitched with antic.i.p.ation. She gave his tongue a long, luscious suck, her actions sending heat through him like a bolt of lightning, inciting him further when he was already in a state that required no encouragement.

He stripped away her clothing, coaxing her along with hot whispers and caresses. He told her how much he wanted her, how good it was going to feel being inside her, how hard he was going to make her come.

When he was done, he paused to devour the sight before him. She had the sweetest, most edible form he'd ever seen. Beautiful b.r.e.a.s.t.s that rose and fell with her rapid breaths. Gorgeous curves. The softest skin. Eyes shut, she tried to shield her body from his view, but he caught her wrists and held them apart, looking his fill. Tonight, she was all his. And she was definitely worth the wait.

"You are every bit as beautiful as I envisioned," he said.

Her eyes snapped open. The small smile adorning her lips told him that his comment pleased her.

Cradling her breast in his palm, he dipped his head and sucked her nipple into his hungry mouth. She thrust her fingers in his hair, instantly frenzied by the erotic sensations.

He pressed her down on the bed, still drawing on her breast, enticing sharp, shallow pants from her. He wouldn't relent until he had her writhing. Until she panted out his name. She was so d.a.m.ned desirable. Every untaught movement and uncontrolled sound she made drove him wild. Turning to her other breast, he swirled his tongue around the pretty peak before giving it the tiniest bite. Her cry of pleasure lanced into his groin, milking a dollop of pre-come from his c.o.c.k.

Simon yanked off his shirt and tossed it onto the floor.

This time, he wasn't going to be denied. There was no way he could stop. Not even if the b.l.o.o.d.y ship was sinking. He'd be the one to introduce her to carnal delights. That incredible thought pulsated through every nerve ending in his body. The gift she was giving him moved him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his. Urgency pounded in his blood. Yet he forced himself to slow down, noting she was squeezing her thighs together.

Intent on spiking her hunger, he grazed a hand over her smooth belly, then cupped her s.e.x. They both groaned. She was so slick, her curls already wet with her juices. His c.o.c.k seeped more s.p.u.n.k. With the heel of his hand he applying direct pressure over her c.l.i.t, relishing her mewl. "Spread your legs for me. I can make you feel so much more." He kissed her neck and slipped a single finger between the wet folds of her s.e.x. "Trust me..." Lightly, he delivered a stroke over her c.l.i.t so swollen with need. This time, she jerked back before losing her breath, stunned by the sharp, carnal sensation.

"I trust you," she said between pants.

He smiled against her skin. He couldn't explain why, but it gave him such joy to hear those words from her. He delivered another measured stroke to her c.l.i.t. She shuddered and tightened her arms around him. "That feels good, doesn't it?"

He felt her nod and her legs slacken. She was so adorably sweet and incredibly alluring in her fiery state. He couldn't wait to sink his length into her and give her long, deep, luscious strokes until she came on his c.o.c.k.

He eased her legs apart with his knee, his hand ma.s.saging her s.e.x all the while, fingering her with finesse, his mouth m.u.f.fling the sensual sounds she made. Arching to him hard, she was quickly reaching the precipice to her release. A release he refused to give her this way. She was going to reach o.r.g.a.s.m with him inside her.

Removing his hand from her wet s.e.x, he was up on his knees in an instant, opening his breeches in record haste, finally freeing his c.o.c.k from its restraints. He stroked his slick fingers along his length. He'd never been so hard, his c.o.c.k feeling heavy as lead.

She gave an impatient squirm, the pretty crinkle in her brow telling him she didn't like the loss of his hand on her excited s.e.x. Leaning over her, he pressed a palm down on the mattress above her shoulder, and lightly fingered her with his other hand. Purposely avoiding her c.l.i.t. Keeping her keen and craving more. "Beautiful Angelica, I am going to give you the release you seek. But I'm not going to let you come with my hand. You're going to come with my c.o.c.k." The very idea of her wet heat clasped around him tightly made his heart pound harder. "You want to come for me. You want a release right now, don't you." It was more of a statement than a question, given her quickened breaths. Her wet little c.u.n.t. And those mouthwatering nipples of hers that were straining for him, begging to be sucked once more.

She gave him a nod, her cheeks pink. Dieu, she looked so good. Better than any fantasy he had of her.

He lowered himself on her. His weight on his elbows, he finally had his moonlight temptress right where he wanted her. "Tell me you don't want me to stop." He stroked his c.o.c.k down along her dewy folds, coating it with her cream for easy penetration. It took everything he had not to thrust into her all at once. "Tell me," he said, stroking himself back up to her needy c.l.i.t, purposely making her moan. "Angelica, say it." He had to hear her voice the words one more time. "If I am going to take your virginity, I'm going to need you to say it." He wedged his c.o.c.k at her entrance. A groan surged up his throat. Jesus-Christ, the most magnificent hot silk was gripping the tip of his p.r.i.c.k.

"Don't stop..." she said breathlessly.

That simple phrase nearly unraveled him before he reined in his hunger and pressed into her enticing wet core slowly.

"Simon!"

His senses reveled. He groaned long and hard. She was soft, and so incredibly snug, the head of his c.o.c.k was actually pulsing under the exquisite pressure.

She squirmed sharply, causing his p.r.i.c.k to penetrate suddenly, faster than he intended. He gripped her hips to still her. The friction that shot along the sensitive underside of his c.o.c.k was mind-melting. He held himself immobile, his body shaking with effort. His length was dipped halfway into splendor.

"Easy. Allow me to be gentle," he forced out, barely able to command his voice as he dragged air in and out of his lungs. All he wanted to do was sink in. b.a.l.l.s-deep. But he couldn't forget she was a virgin. If it weren't for that, he'd be riding her into oblivion right now. "I'll make it good for you, I swear. Our bodies were meant to join this way. Just relax..." He tunneled deeper, her perfect sheath drawing him in. He withdrew a little, then sank his whole length into her with a final deep, easy glide. Her low cry of shock and pleasure reverberated through him. He clenched his teeth. She was clasped so tightly around him, he thought he'd go mad.

In the haze of blinding pa.s.sion, one thought suddenly pierced through his heated mind: there had been no barrier...

Blood roared in his ears. His body rioted for more. He was long past the point of no return, and began driving into her repeatedly with deep, solid thrusts, unable to stop, fiercely fighting back his release so he could continue to bask in the tight confines of her slick walls. In the sublime squeeze of her s.e.x. And the stunning sensations coursing along his c.o.c.k.

Their chests heaved together. Their breaths mingled, wild and erratic. Somewhere in the distance, through the blinding pleasure he heard her cry out as she climaxed.

Her inner muscles contracted around his thrusting shaft, clenching and releasing. The sensation-pure ecstasy. His control snapped. His o.r.g.a.s.m came thundering down on him. Abruptly, he reared. Burying his face in her hair, he came with brutal intensity, his body shuddering from the sheer force of his release as he spent himself in a glorious, draining rush onto the sheets.

His limbs were heavy. His body was sluggish. But his mind raced, the mental fog dissipating in the wake of burning questions.

How was it possible that she was not a virgin? How could it be? She'd been with another man? Other men? No, he was mistaken. Somehow, he was wrong.

He rolled off her and onto his back. Keenly aware of her warm body next to his, he stared at the ceiling with his one arm resting on his forehead and his other hand on his chest, waiting for his heart and breathing to calm, knowing that his pulse now raced for an entirely new reason having nothing to do with his devastating o.r.g.a.s.m.

He knew his instincts were not sharp of late. He knew he had been wrong in his a.s.sumptions about her thus far... But this? He couldn't be wrong about her innocence. Could he? She wouldn't have given him her body and not this information. Would she? Questions whirled in his head. He didn't know what to believe. He wasn't sure of anything right now except the need to know the truth.

But he didn't want to look.

Slowly, he sat up. Gripping the base of his c.o.c.k, he saw a mixture of s.e.m.e.n and her own juices. No blood. His stomach clenched.

He forced himself to stand and face her.

She sat up, her long, dark curly hair hanging so beautifully covering most of her torso. She smiled at him, but her smile faded when she noticed the look on his face. He gazed down at her silky thighs and then to the sheet below her. More s.e.m.e.n.

No blood.

The missing evidence of her virginity tore through him. All this time he'd kept himself from her, enduring weeks of agony, fighting against the staggering attraction between them, because of her innocence. And she wasn't?

How the h.e.l.l had she fooled him? Twice!

Did she think he wouldn't realize she wasn't a virgin? Was this the way she'd wanted him to learn of it all along?

Why wouldn't she tell him? She'd finally said she trusted him. Dieu. What a fool! People said a lot of things in bed they didn't mean. Heartfelt declarations didn't mix with casual s.e.x. She had, after all, asked for just one night. Nothing more. Jesus-Christ. She was a woman from a convent. It occurred to him then that the night they'd met, she'd been out of the convent. And she had never told him why. Had she sneaked out to see another man? Was he the reason she wanted to return so badly?

The entire situation was almost laughable if it wasn't so gut-wrenching.

"Simon...?"

He felt duped. Lied to. And he loathed the fact that any of this should matter to him at all. Fury scorched through his veins. He had to leave. Now.

He yanked at his breeches, closing them with quick, angry tugs, and left the room, slamming the door shut with the intensity of a thunderclap.

Chapter Twelve.

He knew.

Angelica had seen it in his eyes. He'd discovered that she wasn't a virgin. And he was furious with her. Heaven knew what he was thinking.

Fully dressed and sitting at the table near her trunk of beloved books, she impatiently swiped the tears from her cheeks. She hadn't allowed herself to cry for years. She hated to cry. It made her feel pathetic and weak, and she was neither.

She'd survived rape. She'd escaped her stepfather's clutches and successfully eluded him for ten years. It had taken strength and courage to do both. And it had taken courage to give herself over to the desire she felt for Simon. How she wished he could know this.

But she didn't know how to tell him.

The only real courage she lacked was voicing the ugly truth.

She'd never told a single soul about the events of the night that had left her tainted and dishonored and changed her life forever.

It had to be almost morning. The sea was gentle, its rocking of the vessel slight.

She knew she'd have to face him sooner or later.

But what would she say?

At least a half dozen times over the last excruciating hours, she'd intended to seek him out and explain. To tell him what her stepfather had done to her. But she'd faltered every time. How did one voice such shame? What were the right words to say so he wouldn't look at her as demeaned? With pity? Or worse-repugnance?

She rose from the table and felt a twinge of tenderness between her legs. Proof that things were very different this morning.