Page 41 of Paid to the Pirate

“Take off all your clothes,” Colt whispered into my ear. “I want to examine you for injuries.”

I blinked. How did he know I’d awoken?

“Whatever happened to good morning?” I huffed.

I could practically hear his lazy grin behind me. “It is for me. Is it for you?”

“Asks the man who beats and molests me at every given chance.Do you care?”

Colt barked a laugh. “I’m checking to make sure you’re okay, aren’t I?”

I drew the neck of my shirt tighter around me, hesitant.

“You’re injured,” I pointed out.

“I’m fine.”

“You said you wouldn’t touch me.”

“That was during the night. It’s morning now.”

“I’mfine.”

“I need to make sure. As a captain I’m nothing if not thorough.”

Yes,I thought.I’ve heard the crew grumble about it often enough.Colt’s fastidiousness didn’t match my image of a vulgar pirate captain.

I huffed again and yanked my shirt from the waistband of my skirts, wanting to get it over with quickly. Colt grabbed my wrist.

“No. Stand. Let me see you undress.”

Grumbling, I shuffled off the bed and tuned to face him, still pouting.

Dear god, he looked handsome in the morning.His hair had tousled about in an appealing, carefree manner. His beard had grown into a deeper stubble. He was so very different from the men in our settlement, and yet an enigma, both more and less refined.

At the warning of Colt’s raised eyebrows, I removed my shirt, bunched it into a ball, and threw it at his chest. He caught it with his good arm, laughing. Since I couldn’t outright disobey, I resolved to follow his orders in the most rebellious way I could. He wanted a show, I’d deny him. Repeating the process, I quickly stripped my skirt and threw it at Colt, who once again caught it while laughing.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” I quipped in a voice to show I was not at all glad.

“I am. Now let’s see how you… feel.” Colt dipped his head in the direction of the bed, commanding my return.

Submissively, I laid down beside Colt. He rose on his good elbow toexamineme. At first, Colt watched my face carefully, almost as if he hesitated. Then his hands roved by body and my breasts responded by swelling and rising to meet him, nipples hardening as if screaming that they longed for his touch, and with his keen gaze he missed none of it. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratification from the persistent way Colt seemed unable to refrain from touching me for very long. His fingertips grazed my skin, reverent, almost worshipful.

Colt bent down and planted searing kisses on my flesh. I didn’t know what was between us, but I didn’t want him to stop. His mouth moved lower, tantalizingly close to the top of my mound. My breathing quickened in anticipation of the unknown.

“Is this okay?” Colt asked between kisses.

Why was he asking? Colt never requested permission. Did it have anything to do with yesterday’s attack?

Did it mean the power to stop him was mine?

At my pause, Colt halted, making me whimper. Staring at me with concern in his black eyes, I realized he’d misread my silence. I realized he intended to put his mouth on me. And I realized my cunt was throbbing for it.

I was at a crossroads and one word would select my direction. His direction.

I was weak -- Colt made me weak. Or was it strength to admit what I wanted?

Oh God. I was neither strong enough to speak the words nor strong enough to deny them.

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