Page 66 of Kidnapped by the Pirate
Knowing was one thing. His heart’s thudding desire, flowing through his veins like the tide—relentless, unforgiving—was another. But it was clear he’d indulged his fantasies far too much and for far too long.
He marched back to the tent, ducking through the flapping entrance. He tucked his shirt into his trousers and snatched up his belt, the urge to rejoin Nathaniel in their makeshift bed tugging at him, fishhooks in his flesh.
Nathaniel rolled to his knees, trying to hide another wince. “Can I help with the barnacles?”
Keeping his gaze anywhere but on Nathaniel as he stalked to his makeshift desk, Hawk snapped, “No. You’ll stay here.”
“Here? Inside the tent? But—”
“But nothing. You are the prisoner, and you will fucking stay where I tell you to. I’m the one in charge.” The dagger had to be at Nathaniel’s throat, not his own. “I’ve let you have your way too much. That is at an end. Soon you will be returned to your treacherous father on Primrose Isle, and I’ll be rich.”
Nathaniel was silent for a few moments, then cleared his throat, his voice shaking. “What did Mr. Snell say to you? What’s changed so suddenly?”
“Nothing has changed.” Hawk kept his gaze averted. “This has always been the reality of the situation. This will soon be over.”
Nathaniel’s voice was hoarse. “Yet until then, we can still have this between us.”
“There is nothing between us.”
“But… Last night, we…”
With jerky motions, Hawk strapped on the belt, ruthlessly pushing away the memories of their wild coupling—Nathaniel’s cries, the heat of his body, rain soaking their fevered skin, Hawk certain he could hear their hearts beating as one.
He spat, “We fucked. I stuck my cock in your tight little hole. Nothing more. I’m a pirate captain, and you are our prize. I’ve enjoyed fucking your virgin arse, knowing how much it would horrify your father, but have grown tired of it. You’re used up now.”
“You don’t mean that.”
He roared, “Don’t tell me what I mean!” and shoved his pistol in his belt, his fucking hand trembling. This conversation had to end. He had to hold his resolve.
Casting about for a source of particular cruelty, he found his target. “I must say I eagerly anticipate relaying to your father in great detail all the filthy things you’ve said and done. How you begged for my cock. What a whore you are. Perhaps I’ll draw him a few pictures.”
Nathaniel sucked in a breath. “You wouldn’t.”
He laughed harshly. “Wouldn’t I? This is about revenge, N—Plum. Nothing more. If I’ve lulled you into a false sense of complacency, you have no one to blame but yourself. For I’m a pirate, after all. Notoriously untrustworthy.”
Don’t look at him. Put an end to this now before tumbling any deeper down this chasm.
“I don’t understand what changed overnight.”
Hawk stopped by the blankets, his legs spread, looking down from his full height, sneer firmly in place. He struck the killing blow. “Then apparently you’re an imbecile after all.”
With that, he stalked off, already trying to forget the image of Nathaniel’s mouth open in surprise, undeniable hurt creasing his beautiful face.
Chapter Eighteen
“Then apparently you’re an imbecile after all.”
Nathaniel knew he shouldn’t allow the insult to cut so deeply, but it did all the same. He’d welcomed the bruises on his body, but Hawk’s sudden reversal left his soul battered, an awful hollow sensation taking up residence. He should have known this was coming, but it had taken him utterly unaware.
As the morning went by and Hawk didn’t return, Nathaniel curled on his side to take pressure off his arse—which throbbed dully, a constant reminder. To be caught so off-guard was beyond foolish, given that Hawk was a pirate. A killer, a thief, a criminal.
Hadn’t Nathaniel initially hated him? Cowered from him, felt the punishing grip of Hawk’s hand on his throat? He shouldn’t have forgotten for a moment.
Yet they’d taken such pleasure in each other, and he knew Hawk hadn’t faked that. And it was more than fucking. They’d talked. Confessed truths. Hawk had cradled him in his arms, and none of that had been to aid base desires. Hawk had bestowed on him those beautiful smiles.
Nathaniel’s eyes burned now to think of them.
Through the flapping sides of the tent, he spied him marching around in those ridiculous boots while everyone else went the practical route in bare feet. The thunder of Hawk’s commands echoed across the sand, the men sharing looks as they scurried to obey.
Midday, Mr. O’Connell brought him water, fresh-cooked fish, and tangy, sweet fruit that should have been a delight. Nathaniel sat up and poked at his plate glumly, thanking him, glad he’d put on his breeches earlier.
Frowning, O’Connell tugged on the loose ends of his long, curling hair, which he’d mostly tied up against the heat. He was perhaps five and thirty, wrinkles starting to line his bearded face, the hair below his chin long enough to bead together into a point. “What happened that’s got the captain so furious and you stuck in here?”
