Page 20 of The Captain's Bounty
Panting, she stared back at him, eyes wide, cheeks fiery red, though nowhere near as flushed as her backside.”P-please…” she said, but she didn’t say ‘stop’.
Bruwes caressed her, dragging the hand he had so thoroughly spanked her with over her thigh and around to the front of her, where her belly flinched and her pussy wept. He spread open her secretive folds, rubbing in moisture until his fingers were coated in the slippery fluid.
Her lips parted, but she didn’t so much as wriggle as his fingers pressed deeper, invading from the front this time. Her breath caught, but he pushed his finger all the way inside her.
Her slick walls fluttered to grip him, hugging him.
Slipping a second into her, he explored how tightly she clutched, his thumb stroking the outer folds, discovering a nub of such unexpected sensitivity that her whole body jumped when he caressed it.
Her pleasure button was outside her sex? Interesting.
Wrenching a hand loose, she grabbed his wrist. Whether she wanted to stop him or pull him deeper, he didn’t know. She just held him, gasping and quivering like a melonum leaf in the rain.
His free hand found her neck, holding her steady while his other pressed its advantage and two fingers became three.
Her eyes almost closed. She bit back a moan, drawing the full intensity of his gaze as he let his fingers move in her the way his cock ached to.
She whimpered, and he tightened his grip on her throat. Her breaths quickened, her thighs tightening as if trying to keep him out.
Withdrawing his hand, he gave her sex a not so gentle slap. “Open.”
Her thighs quivered, but with intoxicating obedience, she blushed and did it.
She shook as if she were afraid, and yet he knew better. The only thing he could see in her eyes was the smoky glint of desire. Reluctantly given, but desire nonetheless.
Unable to bear it, he rolled her onto the bed on her back and climbed on top of her. Pinning her under his weight, his hand clutched her throat tighter, almost cutting off her air. His fingers pumped hard and fast, the way he wished to do.
He wanted to be in her. He ached to feel the seductive clutch and squeeze of her welcoming flesh, every twitch, every flinch as she yielded to his rough pounding.
Her back bucked to arch, her hips ground beneath him, riding his fingers in what little freedom of movement he allowed her. As if she didn’t want to respond to his touch, but couldn’t help herself.
He liked that. Now that he was feeling it for himself, small wonder the doctor spent so much time humping his prize. It was addictive. He liked Lissa’s wiggles, her sounds.
Her smell.
He wanted more. Needed it like he needed air.
Letting go of her neck, he grabbed her hair instead, forcing her head back until she had no choice but to stare right into his eyes as he fucked her. With his fingers, not his cock. More’s the pity. He could all but feel the slickness flowing from her as her lips parted with a mewl of high-pitched wanting.
He’d never had a woman before. Vullum had them all the time, but like all Ragers, Bruwes had never been allowed a female on Me’Kava. Even after their banishment, he’d only ever courted the opportunity with half-hearted interest. He’d found he didn’t have the stomach for women he had to pay for.
And yet this...thishe could stomach? His tiny human captive lying pinned beneath him, wearing his bonds because she was acriminal with a price on her head? He shouldn’t be touching her like this, and yet he couldn’t make himself stop. In this moment, she was everything he hadn’t realized he’d wanted, and the one thing he couldn’t afford to let himself have. She was his bounty, and no matter how good she felt as she writhed and gasped on his thrusting fingers, that wasn’t going to change.
“Oh!” Her back arched and her flesh spasmed, her thighs quaking as she stiffened and shook with his fingers buried up to his palm inside her.
Watching her do that was like a high. The best he’d ever had. And she smelled so good.
He cupped her sex until the quivering spasms eased to a stop. The green of her eyes on him were cloudy and unfocused. Her small, perfect breasts rose and fell in swift, shallow gasps, the tips crowned in stiffening pinkish-brown peaks that jutted against the fabric of her thin shirt, as if begging him to strip it off and to experience for himself the pleasure they instinctively promised.
Playing with her was playing with fire, and he’d courted getting burned long enough for one day.
Taking his fingers out of her released more of that intoxicating, Rage-inducing scent. He brought his hand up, enjoying the scent that clung to his sparkling, wet fingers. He sampled the taste, rumbling low approval from deep in his chest.
He liked it.
He even liked her. Maybe.
Too bad he had a job to do, a bounty to collect, and a ship to repair. Too many people depended on him to be the captain, to be responsible, and the sad fact of it was that responsible pirates did not fuck their cargo.
