Page 23 of Good Duke Gone Wild

“Oh, no you’re not. You’re going home.” But even as he said it, as threateningly as he could, he knew his words were empty. He wasn’t turning the ship around. It was only a day or two in duration for this trip anyway, so it wasn’t worth it to lose time on what would be his last journey as a privateer. He just wanted it over and done with so that he could move on. He owed Bernard one last mission for saving his life from a near-fatal duel. Not that Jude wouldn’t have taken to life on the seas anyway, but he would have done it his own way. Instead, here he was, trapped as a privateer for one last contract. Then he would be free.

“I’ll go home when I’m ready.”

He took a few steps toward her, but the chit wasn’t backing down.

“You’ll go home when I say you’ll go home.”

His face was so close to hers that they were sharing the same breath now.

“No,” she whispered. “Unless you turn this ship around or throw me overboard, I’m staying right here.”

“Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you are?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What?”

Slowing his speech and gripping her hips, he asked again, “Has anyone ever told you how damn bullheaded you are?”

Mistake.

Her eyes flared. “Has anyone ever told you how infuriatingly despotic you are?”

“I’m the captain.” His fingers dug into her plush hips. Hips he wanted to pull closer to him. Hips he wanted to hold onto while she rode him. Hard. “I’m supposed to be in charge.”

“Supposed to be…but aren’t. If you were, you wouldn’t let me be here, would you?” Her lips parted and hung slightly open as she taunted him. A perfectly shaped o, open and waiting for him.

Waiting for him to take charge. Of her.

Chapter 12

“WHAT ARE YOU GOING to do now, Jude?”

Pushing his hard ridge against her stomach, he felt—more than heard—a small gasp escape from her pouty lips. And then he did what any good pirate did. Despite not being a pirate. He plundered.

One minute he intended to chastise her for her choices and behavior, the next minute he let his lips do the punishing. And his hands. Oh, yes. His hands were gripping her hips so hard now that he had to let up before he left a mark on her.

He needed a taste of that dream again. Last night was a blur, from both the alcohol and the drugging. And he felt a compulsion to devour her. The urge would not go unsatiated, he knew because he couldn’t will his cockstand to calm down. It was thick between his legs and wanted in on the action.

She was a siren. A damn siren leading to his demise. He knew it yet he couldn’t pull away. What was it about her? Besides her obvious beauty, what was it about her that beckoned to him? That openness she carried around like a badge. The woman was practically daringhim to show her new experiences. Not even daring, explicitly asking for them and submitting herself to him. At least, her body. He had no delusions that the woman would submit to him in her mind or verbally. But her body…that was what he craved.

His tongue swept into her mouth and hers danced across his. Her hands were clawing into his scalp and he was already lifting her thighs to encircle his waist. Backing them both up to the bed, he tossed her down and wasted not a second in tearing off his shirt.

The desire in her eyes flamed an unknown piece of his soul as he climbed over her.

“You need to be taught who’s in charge, don’t you?”

When she nodded, his heart beat wildly in his chest, an untamable storm was loosed. That was as close to submission as he was going to get, and coming from her, he felt set free.

Lifting her skirts, he squeezed her thighs. Desperate. Primal. Untethered. He needed to taste her.

He caught her gaze. Seeing how dark her eyes were, almost black, he thought surely they mirrored his own unbridled yearning. How she could do this to him, render him savage…barbaric…was bewildering to him.

Having been with enough women, he knew how to manage them for a tryst in his bed. But this fierce longing, almost near his heart, this he wasn’t sure about. And he didn’t want to pay it any mind as she arched her hips up toward him.

The virgin didn’t even know what she was asking for, he knew that much. But her female instincts were taking over and he could no more deny her this yearning than he could deny his own hunger.

“I’m dying to taste you, Siren. Dying to lick you up. Front to back. Dying to taste every inch of you until you’re begging for release. I’m going to devour you, feast on you until I’m full. And then I’m goingto do it again. When I’m done with you, you won’t even remember your name.”

Her moan. Her tight grip on her skirts. Her lightly thrusting hips. Her parted mouth and closed eyes.

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