ClaimedbytheCaptain (4 page)

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 rushed 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.”

Clearing his throat, the man added, “I have also taken the
liberty of selecting a few garments. I believe they will fit you passably.”

“Bring them in, please.”

The door opened slowly, as though he were reluctant to
intrude on her solitary confinement. He was nothing like she’d imagined. A
tall, lean man with neatly cut gray hair and blue eyes, which betrayed both
kindness and intelligence, he seemed strangely out of place on a pirate ship.

He placed a pile of folded clothing on a chair and set the
tray of food down on a small table. Cathy’s gaze lit on the open door. Without
thinking, he’d provided her an opportunity to flee. As if reading her thoughts,
he shook his head, a solemn expression marking an already mirthless face.
Still, she had to seize the chance. If she stayed in this place, she’d fall
completely under Jason Kane’s spell. Escape was her only hope. Perhaps she
could find a space to hide until the ship made it to port.

Her brain worked at a feverish pace, devising a plan. She
would need to gather rations and water at night when the cook slept. If she
kept herself out of the captain’s reach, she might break away from his control.

Dragging the quilt around her, she bolted from the bed and
through the door.

Her heart pounded so hard it seemed to have leapt to her
throat. No one stood in her way. But where to go? Surely there were dark,
concealed spaces on this ship. Now if she could make it appear she’d fallen
overboard. She was halfway down the galley way before strong hands captured her
and hauled her off her feet.

The captain’s assistant.
“Let me go,” Catherine
ground out the words, fighting his unyielding hold. “Take your hands off me!”

“Not yet,” the older man said quietly, closing the door
behind them as he managed to get her back into the room. He blocked the exit
with his body before he released her from his hold. Cloaked in the quilt, she
faced him and took a good look at the captain’s minion.

He regarded her with regret-filled eyes. “I can’t let you
run about like that, Miss Catherine. Any woman would be in danger around this
crew.”

Her eyes widened in indignant amazement. “Your captain is
the most dangerous man on this ship.” Her voice was strong, though her body
still quaked with the aftershocks of Kane’s passion.

The man’s weary features revealed unexpected compassion.
“Many of these hoodlums would think nothing of using you to slake their hunger
for a woman and tossing you overboard after the act was done to hide the truth
from Captain Kane. The captain will not mistreat you. I can’t say the same
about the crew.”

She tightened the quilt around her as she considered the
validity of his words. It would be pointless to rail against the captain to
this man. His loyalty seemed unshakeable. He had no way of knowing how the
captain’s touch had branded her skin without mercy, without regard for her
shame. Jason Kane had stirred her senses without violence, but at a far greater
cost. She’d surrendered to Kane willingly, craving the feel of his erect cock
pressing against her belly, the stroke of his fingertips over her flesh, the searing
heat of his kiss. In his cruelty, he’d not even allowed her the comfort of
knowing she’d resisted him.

She cast her gaze to the floor. “Who are you?”

“My name is Jonathan Taylor. Most call me Taylor.”

“Why are you here…on this ship?”

“I’ve served as Captain Kane’s quartermaster for several
years. I attend to his business dealings and the financial aspects of his
endeavors.”

Cathy kept her eyes downcast, unable to face the scrutiny in
his gaze. Could this man possibly know the truth about her wanton behavior? Did
the heat that infused her at the mention of the captain’s name manifest itself
on her cheeks?