My Wicked Pirate. Rona SharonЧитать онлайн книгу.
female mind of yours. Why the devil did you shoot the door? Did you think getting past it would deliver you obstacle-free to Jamaica? Or perhaps you were unable to stomach my despicable lowly self’s company for another minute? One word and I would have installed you in a private cabin. In fact, as soon as you hand over your purple stones that is precisely where you’ll find yourself.”
Alanis stared at him in astonishment. “You can’t have my jewels, you greedy brute! You deserved having your door blasted. I wish I shot you instead.”
He rolled his eyes to the ceiling, sending a silent plea for patience. He snapped two fingers together. “Come, come. Let’s have the damned jewels and you’re off to a separate cabin.”
Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Never!”
“You can’t keep them unless you care to spend the next three weeks locked up. And the same goes for your fancy plums. I won’t have you parading the deck as a multicourse meal, drawing too much attention, muddling my men’s already soggy brains, and snubbing me at every opportunity. I still have some of my sister’s old clothes onboard. I think they’ll fit.” And at her appalled expression, he deliberately scanned her figure. His eyes lingered on her heaving bosom. A voracious smile expended on his lips. “You may find them a bit snug in some places, though.”
Her cheeks turned cherry red. “No gentleman would dare speak of such matters.”
Grinning from ear to ear, Eros folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the post. “I never professed to being a gentleman. Too many taxing restrictions. I, tesoro, am free to do as I please, including undressing unwilling females,” he drawled, mentally licking his chops.
She gave him a disparaging look. “You may roll that lolling tongue back into your mouth. You may not be a gentleman, but I am a lady.”
His grin broadened into a full-blown smile. “All the more interesting.”
She assessed her situation, contemplating how to elude him. Her back was to the wall, to her left was more furniture with the open ports beyond, to her right his bed, and directly in front of her was the devil himself. He took a step toward her, his lips twisting in a wry smile.
“Looking for a getaway? There are hardly any hiding places in my cabin. So why don’t you hand over your pile of treasures and we shall call it a night, hmm?”
“May the devil take you!” she muttered at his amused face.
“The devil and I are on best of terms. In fact, we’re close acquaintances. At times, it’s hard to tell us apart.” He came closer, trapping her between his arms and the wall. She shivered. Not with fear. She was too agitated to be afraid. What she felt, to her dismay, was a consuming need to touch him. In the dim light, his skin looked as dark as chocolate, stretching over firm tendon.
Eros watched her. He must have sensed the charged air between them, for his grin vanished and in its stead searing want darkened his eyes. He plunged his fingers in her hair, luxuriating in its silken wealth. “What am I to do with you?” he asked huskily, drawing her head closer to his. “You are painfully beautiful and I’m very drunk. My due for sainthood is hanging by a thread.”
Heat surged through her wanton body. Her voice was a faint, rugged whisper. “I know you are many things, Eros, but I don’t think you are a rapist.”
He splayed his large hand on her neck and slowly ran it along her bare shoulder, caressing her skin. “But that is the problem, Amore. I don’t think it would be rape.”
She swallowed, cursing the familiar currents snaking through her body. She now knew how Eve felt in the Garden of Eden when inveigled by the serpent she took the forbidden apple. She arched her neck and turned her head aside to shun temptation. “It would.”
“Would it?” the Viper whispered as he tasted her neck, gulping the perfume clinging to her skin. Groaning softly, his tongue and lips paved a trail of fire to the vulnerable hollow between her neck and shoulder. Alanis stood still, fighting the narcotic spell causing her eyelashes to sink languidly. She was battling two powerful enemies, not one: Eros and her crazy attraction to him. Succumbing would be the poorest choice she ever made. What were Jasmine’s exact words? His amorous conquests always begin with lust and end with tears. Not his tears. She had to resist. If she cared to keep something of her ravaged self-esteem she must resist.
His thumb traced her soft pink lips. “Why did you change your mind on the sand tonight?”
She held his gaze, her breath shallow against his thumb. “What relevance has it now? You never intended to take me to the places we talked about anyway.”
“Did you think I’d leave you with another man? Even if my sister hadn’t met that imbecile, I would have done the exact same thing. Silverlake was not the man for you, Alanis, and deep down inside you know it.” He caressed her lips with his, letting their warm breaths merge. Rich cognac fumes filled her head. God, how she wanted him to kiss her, but would he stop at that? “Tell me you don’t feel as I do, Amore, and I’ll let you have your own cabin tonight.”
Alanis shut her eyes, anticipation of his kiss fogging her senses. She wanted her own cabin, an inner voice insisted, but her lips seemed incapable of uttering the words.
Eros leaned into her body. “You don’t give a damn about him,” he whispered sultrily to the curve of her jaw. “It’s me you want, regardless of my black soul and pitiable lowly birth, and the curse of it is that I want you too.” His white teeth gently grazed her jaw. “Badly.”
Alanis nearly melted to the floor. Heart pounding, she leaned against the wall, drugged by the rich musky scent filling the shadows, by the full-blooded male blockading her senses. She flattened her hands on his chest, slightly pushing, slightly gliding over his sinuous, velvety skin.
“I want my own cabin,” she whispered, amazed at the self-preservation she still possessed.
“No, you don’t.” He caught her nape and locked their lips together. His tongue invaded her mouth, but the sensation was an overall invasion. She whimpered in response, and before she realized what she was about she entwined herself around him, refusing to let go. He danced them to his bed and came down on top of her. His kisses became softer, sweeter, making her feel she was the treasure he’d been searching for his entire destitute life and now that he had it he wasn’t about to give it up. She writhed beneath him, terrified of how she felt, of how he made her feel.
“Eros…” She caressed his cheek. His stubble felt as silky soft as the stuff on his head.
He lifted himself on his forearms. His jet mane spilled around her face; his eyes glittered as gems. “How did we come to this, Alanis? Were we doomed to become lovers?”
New panic signals pulsed in her head. She wanted to kiss him and caress him, but was she prepared to throw her life away on a moment’s craziness? “I think…this has gone far enough.”
“Don’t think.” He nibbled her lips, seducing her reason, artfully kindling her desire.
A sob of yearning welled in her throat. The abyss in her soul cried for him, eager to absorb him into the lonely chambers of her heart. She run her hands through his flowing black mane and met the hungry strokes of his tongue with soft, feminine purrs.
Eros moved aside, pulling her on top of him. He unclasped her gown. Expertly, he unlaced her undergarments, then fastened his hands to her sides and dragged the garments off.
Heartbeats roared in her ears. She could scarcely breathe or think as with incredible speed Eros removed the rest of her clothing items one after the other, tossing them to the carpet. When she had nothing on except her chemise and modish short drawers, he rolled on top of her. He lay between her smooth, curvy thighs and ground his loins against her softness. The rock-hard front of his breeches squashed the frills on her drawers, exciting her in unmentionable ways.
“Santo Michele…” he echoed her own muddled thoughts as he pressed his hot mouth to a creamy swell of breast. His teeth found a firm nipple through the chemise’s