ClaimedbytheCaptain Page 3

  “That’s exactly what I expect.”

  “No,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. If he intended to use her body for his pleasure, she would not offer herself up like a wanton sacrifice. “I won’t parade myself before you like a trollop.”

  He shook his head thoughtfully and without anger. “Perhaps I can persuade you.” His arm coiled around her shoulders and drew her to him with the tenderness one would find in a groom who intended to make love to his beloved for the first time. “Will you deny me what is mine?”

  The words washed over her like an icy rain. She steeled herself against his seductive touch. “I am not yours.”

  His long fingers toyed with the lace at the low neckline of the chemise. “Lovely, yet useless.”

  Her breath hovered in her throat as he drank her in, the filmy fabric providing scant protection from his hungry gaze. She pressed an arm over her chest as if that would shield her.

  “You will not conceal yourself from me. You are mine, Catherine. Soon, you will understand that truth.”

  Ignoring her tiny murmurs of protest, he slanted his mouth over hers, a slow, deep caress. Liquid heat coiled in her belly even as she trembled with anger and shame. I’m acting as though he’s bewitched me. A few kisses, and I surrender to his lust. I must find the strength to resist.

  He caught her wrist and guided the arm she’d positioned as a barrier to her side. A low moan of anticipation escaped her lips as he caught the ribbon tie at her bodice between his finger and thumb. With one soft tug, the fabric spilled open. Kane’s mouth marked a fiery path along the curve of her throat, trailing lower to her bosom. Capturing the sensitive bud of her breast, he teased the nub with his tongue while his hand moved lower, sliding under her chemise. Laying ruthless claim to the core of her femininity, he mastered her body, stroking, invading, teasing until she dripped with shameless want.

  She arched against him, fighting for control. Her hunger for Jason Kane threatened to overwhelm her. His touch was intoxicating. Heavens, how she wanted him. Inside her. Filling her, taking his pleasure, stimulating her to the brink of madness. But how could she allow herself to be swept away by a man who’d taken her as an act of vengeance? She had to resist his control.

  He buried a finger deep within her warmth. She writhed with mindless need, welcoming the gentle invasion as he upped the stakes of her surrender. Sliding another finger within the heat of her slick passage, his soft strokes created a sweet torment.

  “Tell me you want me, Catherine.”

  She didn’t answer him. She couldn’t bring herself to admit she craved his possession, ached to feel his hard cock buried inside her to the hilt. His touch maddened her, propelling her to the brink of a nameless ecstasy like none she’d ever known. The fumbling attentions of her first lover had aroused nothing more than a sense of curiosity and a bit of affection on her part, but the decadent sensations Jason aroused threatened to shatter sanity itself.

  “You want me, love,” he purred against her ear. “You want what I can give you.” His attention shifted to the engorged pearl between her legs. She squirmed helplessly against the mindless pleasure, unable to surrender yet craving him so intensely, she feared she’d beg him to take her.

  “Tell me what you want.”

  The words hovered in her throat. Touch me. Possess me. Teach me what pleasure is. She nibbled her bottom lip, unable to give voice to the decadent thoughts.

  Kane gazed down at her, his dark eyes unfathomable. He shook his head slowly. “I would have given you everything you desire, love, but now, I think I will not be as inclined to be generous.”

  A word burst through her haze of desperation. A whisper, so soft it seemed like little more than a breath against his lips.

  “Please…”

  His brows lifted at her plea. “You deny me the sight of you, you deny me your longings.” His arms fell away from her. “You do not wish to bare yourself before me. I will wait for that pleasure, Catherine. But first, I believe I will teach you a lesson.”

  A wicked smile tilting his mouth, he cupped the warm mound at the junction of her thighs and began to torture her in earnest. The tip of his finger found her heat, circling and teasing her with infinitely gentle strokes until Cathy feared she’d scream from the intense pleasure searing her flesh. Then his fingers entered her, probing and exploring and tantalizing, his merciless touch demanding a response until she wriggled wildly against him.

  He stopped, releasing her so abruptly her knees threatened to buckle. Turning away, he crossed the room in a few long strides and removed a few lengths of cord from the interior of the carved chest beneath the porthole. Jason returned to her, regarding her thoughtfully for a few moments, as if debating his next action. With one stealthy movement, his hands seized her forearms and looped the satin cord around her wrists.

  “What… What are you doing?” The words came out like a gasp.

  “Hush, love, or I shall have no mercy with you at all,” he admonished, his voice smooth and coaxing.

  Cathy bit her lip, struggling against the urge to beg him to touch her. Reading the set of his jaw, she knew her pleas would serve no purpose. She’d been brought to the brink of surrender, and now, he meant to torture her with her own primal instincts. She closed her eyes as if to block out her body’s betrayal.

  “I will not harm you. You have my word,” he said as he secured the binding in place.

  Cathy summoned enough strength to regard him with disdain. “Your word means little to me, sir.”

  Jason’s eyes gleamed, as though amused by her small defiance. “A bit of your fight is coming back. Good. I enjoy a woman with spirit.”

  “What you enjoy is none of my concern,” she shot back, cursing her own weakness as her traitorous flesh pulsed with longing.

  “Such rebellion. Perhaps this is why your father hasn’t managed to marry you off yet.”

  When she ignored his jibe, he brushed his lips over her mouth. Watching her with a guarded expression, he ran his fingers over the corded rope on her wrists. “I am pleased your father never had the chance to marry you off to one of his cronies. I will enjoy having you to myself. You are far too delicious to live your life as the rutting partner of an old, overweight merchant.”

  “Why are you binding me?” She swallowed, forcing defiance into her tone. “There is no chance of escape. We are at sea. Where could I possibly go?”

  Ignoring her questions, he tugged her arms over her head. Looping the second cord around her wrists, he secured her to the bedpost.

  “Why are you doing this?” She prayed the slight quiver in her voice did not lay bare the exhilarating combination of fear and arousal coursing through her body.

  His smile didn’t reach his ebony eyes. He cupped her chin, smoothing the hair from her forehead and cheek.

  “Please.” She forced the word from her lips. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  Jason brushed his lips over hers, his caress more maddening than violent. If only he’d give her a reason to recoil. Instead, the ruthless yearning he’d aroused throbbed within her, a merciless ache made all the more torturous by his gentle touch. Cathy blinked back tears, refusing to surrender to this demon in disguise.

  He stepped back, his expression unreadable. “Think about that, Catherine.”

  Her body aching with desperate hunger, she struggled wildly against the binding holding her securely against the post. With her wrists tied over her head, she couldn’t ease the craving he’d aroused.

  Her need shredded her pride. “Please,” she whispered.

  “Remember this when I return.”

  The door closed softly as he left her there.

  * * * * *

  Cathy heard footfalls pause outside the cabin. The door opened quietly. Jason Kane stepped inside. She wasn’t sure how long he’d been gone. She knew only that the moon’s rays now streamed through the porthole in the place of sunlight and that the merciless longing had not abated. If anything, with each passing m
oment, with each thought of the dark devil who’d captured her, the need swelled deep within her.

  Jason came to her, silent, wiping the tears of frustration from her face with a clean cloth. His gentle ministrations soothed her and she relaxed beneath his touch.

  “Open your eyes, Catherine,” he coaxed as he removed her bonds.

  Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her to the bed. Jason placed her on the mattress with undisguised tenderness and stretched out his long body at her side.

  His touch reassured her as he massaged her aching shoulders. She stilled, watching him warily. “Let’s see how this feels,” he purred against her ear, nibbling gently on the small rounded lobe. His fingers cupped one breast, stirring the pebbled bud to awareness. “Do you want me to touch you? Do you want me to bring you pleasure?”

  To her horror, she nodded, unable to resist the seductive rasp. He set his mouth in a look of intense concentration. His hands intensified their attention, stroking her flesh through the thin lawn of her chemise. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to the glorious warmth as he lavished her taut breasts with ardent attention she’d never known existed. Cathy heard a soft moan, dimly realizing the sound had come from her throat.

  She arched her body, hungering for more. His hands roamed lower, finding the blazing heart of her need and stoking the fiery desire without mercy. His thumb toyed with her, and then he entered her, embedding his fingers in her heat, teasing her more and more intensely until Cathy’s whispered moans broke free of her restraint. Tortured by his exquisite touch, she teetered on the brink of ultimate surrender.

  “Is this what you want?” he asked very softly as he circled the sensitive nub with his finger.

  “Yes.” The single word was hushed, barely audible to her own ears. Jason’s knowing smile registered his understanding.

  “You want me to touch you, Cathy. Tell me.” He stroked his index finger in the opposite direction around her swollen pearl.

  She nodded desperately.

  “Good, love,” he murmured.

  Every nerve in her body screamed for the release she instinctively knew his attentions would bring. Needing him, craving his touch with such desperation was wrong. But she could not deny the hunger. At that moment, she needed his touch as much as she needed the air she breathed. His sure strokes demonstrated his sensual command of her body. She was his, and she would have no defense against him after this night. His skilled touch brought her to the brink of desperate need. Again and again. She writhed beneath his possession, desire overwhelming her, intense and searching, the yearning beyond comprehension.

  She shattered. The sharp spasms of pleasure spiraled through her body, delicious heat radiating through her, a cascading release centered at the core of her being.

  “Will you ever deny me again?” His voice was little more than a murmur as he clutched her to the solid breadth of his chest.

  “No.” The word sounded small, breathless. “Never.”

  She watched, transfixed, as Jason came to his feet, unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the side. The dim light of the cabin outlined a powerfully chiseled chest covered by a thick mat of silky dark hair and sculpted arms etched with the corded strength of tendon and muscle. She drew in a sharp breath, feeling the air hover in her throat as her mouth went dry. He smiled knowingly as their gazes met. He’d known she was watching him. She felt herself flush scarlet beneath his arrogant stare.

  The sensations he’d aroused amazed her. Never had she experienced an agony as delicious as the traitorous response of her body to his touch. Tiny aftershocks coursed through her, her breath still ragged as she snuggled back against the pillow. Her eyes followed his movements as he crept onto the bed, as sleek and lithe as a panther, and propped himself on his elbow. The determined expression in his dark eyes softened as he met her gaze.

  “I want to see you.” The words seemed a caress. “All of you.”

  She nodded, moistening her lips with her tongue. Nervous but unashamed, she pulled the flimsy garment over her head and met his hungry gaze.

  “Never hide your beauty from me,” he murmured in a voice as smooth as molten glass.

  She felt a new ache bud, a melting warmth deep within. She nestled closer, longing to touch the hard planes of his body. “I will give myself to you,” she whispered as his fingertips swept over her naked flesh in sensual exploration.

  His soft laugh echoed in the darkness. “You will give yourself to me? Don’t you realize I’ve already claimed you?”

  She managed to find her voice. “Yes.”

  His assault on her senses resumed in earnest. His hands roamed the sensitive flesh, stirring each nerve to maddening awareness. Cathy melted to his touch, craving every sweep of his heat against her skin. She wanted nothing more than to be taken by this man who’d claimed her as his own. How could she desire him so intensely in the face of his ruthless conquest?

  His fingertips coaxed her thighs open. Jason’s lean, muscled body molded against her, the mat of hair on his chest tantalizing her flesh. His arousal rebelled against the confining trousers, pulsing against her belly, demanding a response. Cathy canted her hips with primitive instinct, cradling his length, longing to feel all of him. His mouth claimed hers again and she writhed against him, desperately seeking his heat, his power. She wanted him to claim her. Yearning for every touch, every kiss, she would give herself freely to this man who’d captured her.

  Cathy shuttered her gaze, wishing she didn’t long for the sweep of his skin against hers. Her fingers gripped handfuls of the quilt as quivers of pleasure and need coursed through her. I should detest him. I should fight his every touch.

  But she couldn’t. She needed him. His naked skin against hers, his kiss, the feel of his lean hardness against her body. If only he were cruel. If only his hands didn’t skim over the curves of her body with such reverence. She should hate him. But every bit of resistance she possessed melted away. Certain he would drive her mad with desire, she closed her eyes and drank in the pleasure of his touch. There would be time to hate herself later.

  Jason stared down at the woman in his bed. He ran his fingers over the curve of her face, threaded his fingers through her thick, cinnamon tresses. He had no desire to hurt this woman. The realization astounded him. He’d thirsted for vengeance for so many years. Now he had the perfect instrument at his disposal to exact his retribution, but he found no joy in the thought. As Cathy quaked against him with the intensity of her passion, the surge of triumph he’d felt had nothing to do with revenge.

  His newborn need for this woman intoxicated him. He usually cared little for the women he bedded, but Catherine Farrell was different. He couldn’t fathom the way he reacted to her. Her pleasure bewitched him. She’d told him she’d been bedded before, but her reaction to his touch told a different story. If she had lain with a man, the bastard hadn’t known or cared to arouse her desires. But he couldn’t get enough of her soft sighs, of the moans that betrayed her need for him.

  He groaned as his shaft strained hungrily against the confines of his trousers. Was it a blessing or a curse that she appealed to him? Cathy was spirited, he thought with a surge of pleasure. No little mouse who shrank from his touch could inflame his passions, but this woman would challenge him to master her. And she was his. Revenge would be sweet as he took his pleasure with his captive, but the vulnerability in her luminous sapphire eyes threatened his resolve. Under different circumstances, he might have chosen her as a beloved mistress, but she was the daughter of his enemy. Caring for her would be dangerous. He must harden his heart.

  She was so tempting, so ready for him. He could think of little more than plunging his erect cock deep within her warmth, but he forced himself to remain disciplined. A knot formed in his gut as she closed her eyes, seeming to savor his ministrations. Her mouth drew into the faintest hint of a smile.

  He drew the sheet over her unclothed body, bitter regret assailing him. She was so responsive. She would not reject him. Blood ru
shed to his loins with merciless vigor at the mere thought of burying his throbbing shaft within her tight sheath.

  Jason left the bed, grabbed his shirt and shrugged it over his shoulders. He watched her silently. Eyes wide and curious, her breaths slow and steady, Cathy clutched the blanket under her chin.

  What the hell was wrong with him? He’d had no shortage of women in his lifetime. Wanting her wasn’t part of his plan, he reminded himself. Craving her would make him weak. She was his prisoner, nothing more, nothing less. Caring about Catherine was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

  Chapter Four

  The morning sun streamed through the porthole. Cathy stirred, stretching lazily as the light pulled her from her sound sleep. Tugging the quilt to her neck, she rolled away from the rays, shutting out the dawn and the truth of the night before.

  She opened her eyes reluctantly, the yearning at her core a lingering reminder of her captor’s claim on her body. The memory of the pirate’s hands against her skin so vivid in her thoughts, she trembled. His touch had induced her wanton surrender. But he’d wanted more. Much more.

  Yet he’d left her, taking nothing for himself after he’d pleasured her. Why had he held back? She’d offered herself. He’d known she was willing. But he’d left her to ponder her hunger until she drifted to sleep.

  A sharp rap against the door tore through her thoughts. Not Jason Kane. He would not have shown her such a courtesy. She clutched the quilt tighter to her chin. An unfamiliar voice cut through the silence.

  “Are you dressed, miss?”

  “I need a moment,” she called, spying her chemise at the end of the bed. She snatched it up and slipped it over her head. The remains of her dress lay in a torn heap on the floor. The garment would be of no use to her now.

  “I’ve brought you some breakfast, miss. May I come in?” His cultured voice contained a note of hesitance.

  Her stomach did a little flip. She had scant desire for food, and the thought of facing another man’s curious gaze destroyed what meager appetite she possessed. “I am not yet presentable.”