Page 163 of Storm over the Caribbean
“Liberating indeed, Mr Linton,” came a cold voice from behind me.
I froze.
Only then did I start to remember that this room, other than me, might still have one more occupant.
“Um…Mr Ambrose? You still there?”
“Indeed.”
Oops.
I swallowed, suddenly very aware of the icy gaze that was drilling a hole into my back. The gaze of a predator, wanting to devour me whole. I turned around, only to find a half-dressed Mr Rikkard Ambrose staring at myself.
My currently very wet self, dressed in nothing but a single towel.
Ah. So…maybe I wasn’t alone in here after all.
I swallowed. “Um…Mr Ambrose, Sir…”
He was across the room before I could get out so much as another word. In a blink, he had trapped me in my little corner of the cabin, and I could see nothing but his sculpted body and perfect, chiselled face.
Leaning forward, he speared me with his arctic gaze.
“Mrs Ambrose.”
Just two little words. Just my name. A name that definitely should not be spoken out loud here, close to within earshot of a horde of pirates. Yet…gazing into his eyes, those dark, blue-grey pools of unfathomable depths, I found I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“Y-you shouldn’t say that!” I hissed. “Not here! Not now!”
“Indeed?” He cocked his head, eyes glittering. “Well then…instead of words, I’ll have to let my actions speak for me.”
The only warning I received was the momentary flash of intent in his arctic eyes. Then he crossed the last bit of distance, and his mouth plunged down towards mine.
Passion and Wrath
My eyes widened in panic.
“Mr Ambrose! We can’t—”
Before I could get another word out, his arms were around me and his lips were on mine. I forgot all about why we couldn’t. I forgot how to breathe. I forgot my own name.
No. Not my name.
Because with every caress of his lips, with every breath he took, Mr Rikkard Ambrose reminded me of it. Reminded me that I was Mrs Lillian Ambrose, and that I belonged to him. That I would bear his name forever after.
Reaching up with one hand, he caressed my cheek and gazed straight into my eyes, as if unable to resist. “My littleifrit…!”
I smirked against his lips, one of my hands sliding down to my stomach. “Not so little anymore, I think.”
A growl erupted from his throat, and he resumed his efforts to devour me whole with renewed vigour. I didn’t exactly put up much of a fight anymore. Pirates? To hell with the pirates! Right now, I was the Queen of Pirates, and the King was about to ravish me! I felt his hands tangle in my wet hair, stroking my skin, stoking the fires inside me.
“P-please…” The word that escaped my mouth was no more than a whimper. “Please…”
Was I asking for more? For him to stop? For both? In the end, it didn’t really matter. My hormone-ridden body seemed to have a mind of its own, doing anything and everything to get closer to him. If only my bloody, ballooning belly weren’t in the way! If only…
“Allow me,” the rumbling voice of Mr Ambrose cut off my mental rambling.
In a blink, his arms were around me. Hard, muscled arms that were holding me so close not even a breath of air would fit between the two of us.
