Paradise Island (25 page)

He didn't wait. She didn't think she could either. His hand covered her intimately. His finger found her soft folds and slipped between them. She threw back her head. A soft gasp tumbled from her open mouth. The bones in her legs liquefied with his stroking touch. He nudged them open and she willingly obeyed. He caressed her there, lovingly attending to every sleek, wet curve. His finger slipped into her entrance, retreating and entering again. His mouth was hot on her breast. Internal flames licked higher, igniting her body so that the want, the need, the desire was almost overwhelming.

Her fingers slipped down his nape. His skin was slick and hot beneath her touch. Her thumb stroked the soft area behind his ear and he groaned with that simple of caresses.

To know that she could initiate the same response as he did with her immediately heightened her awareness. She had his whole body to discover, an intimate world literally at her fingertips. Her hand slipped down his arm. His muscles rippled beneath the rough material of his shirt. She needed to feel more of him, wanted his skin to feel the heat, the silkiness, wanted to touch the exquisiteness of his body. Needed him to respond.

Needed to set him on fire and he was with her.

Her shaky fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. She only had two undone when he uttered a monotone syllable and drew it up and over his head. And she let her eyes feast. He stilled to let her.

She touched his chest. The taunt muscles looked so chiseled, so hard, so different to her softness, but when her fingers found his skin, she discovered it was smooth and velvety. The hardness lay beneath. She traced the line between his chest, over the hardened mounds of his stomach, sketching the undulating ripples until she reached his waistband. She hooked her finger around it and let her gaze rise to his eyes.

She uttered a gasp. There was a burning intensity in the depths, a directness that left her with no misunderstanding of his own needs, his own passion. He didn't hide it, but let her see it, let her know it. It was possession, passion, desire. It branded her as his. It was ownership, domination. It was knowing that she was his. All-powerful. All-consuming, All-knowing. It was total belief, total dedication, adoration, devotion. A keen unsaid commitment. A pledge that it would always be so, a promise that he would always be by her side, an assurance that this was not the end, but the beginning of something far greater than they had ever had on their own or could ever knew even now, having come so far.

A guarantee of a life together. Of tenderness. Caring. An assurance that this was something that would never end, that it would grow with them. It could not be changed, turned against them. It was theirs to own, enjoy, nurture. It was a statement of completeness that was theirs and theirs alone. Unselfish, binding, fervent. There was only one word that could be the sum of the look that shone from the depths of his eyes.

It was love in its purest sense.

It was breathtaking, intense, fierce.

It was
hers
.

Given freely. Not with a want of anything in return. A quiet acknowledgement of how he felt about her, that he would be by her side as long as she would have him. Recognition, acceptance, understanding. He offered himself to her, had stripped himself bare to her alone. This was him in the purest of forms, simply laid out in a simple question.

The answer was unequivocally
yes
.

She wanted to tell him, yell it for the world to hear. But her throat had clogged and her eyes had filled with the stinging heat of tears. She went to speak, but there were no words.

He simply smiled. A small curve of his very masculine lips that stated his answer. Together they were beyond words. He cupped her cheek with the palm of his hand and bent to take her mouth in his. Her passion ignited immediately. Completely.

She undid his breeches and worked his waistband down. The heavy head of his erection, full and hard jutted up from his clothing. She touched the head in wonder. It was only a soft touch, but one that made him move back a little. So much she could do with one finger.

She traced the end with her finger tip, around the groove of the head and up the sleek underside to the end. The skin was so very soft, but was heated. A large vein rose up the shaft to the head, throbbing with every beat of his heart.

She shifted, taking the weight of his penis fully onto her hand. She wrapped her fingers about the shaft, absorbed in the weight and texture of it. Although she had long fingers, the body of it still took up her palm. She moved her hand up and down along the shaft, watching the color change from a deep red to an almost purple. When she reached the tip, she swirled the pad of her thumb over the tip.

He hissed and she jumped, realizing the effect she had on him was the same as she had when his hands touched her so intimately. Her gaze flew to his eyes that were intensely bright. Purposeful. Intent. She couldn't help the knowing smile that reached her mouth.

He moved to kiss her, but she held onto his shoulders, stopping him. If she let him to that to her then she wouldn't be able to explore the way she wanted. She shook her head a little, twisted him around to lie where she had just been. Her eyes devoured him, as he lay revealed and open. She wondered if that was how she appeared to him in such a position.

She touched his chest, felt his heart hammering, his irregular breathing. His gaze never left her face as he waited for her move. She delighted in knowing that she held the same magnetic power as he did with her. She flattened the palm of her hand across his stomach, feeling the hardness rippling beneath her touch, reveling that he was so different to her in so many physical ways.

Her hand found his erection and cupped it. His clothing was hampering his movements, and she worked his breeches free. His penis sprung proudly stating his desire.

There was an intense desire to devour him the way he had with her. She wanted to make him as boneless, as abandoned, as rocked as she had been. She moved so that she was astride his knees as she worked his shaft, toyed there, delighted there. The shear enchantment of watching him begin to move with pleasure was also making her spiral into a bubbling pot of unfathomable desire.

Her body throbbed with unspent need, but still she had to do more for him, wanted to send him freefalling over that indefinable edge, wanted to watch him writhe in ecstasy that she alone created. She bent over him, flicked her tongue over the tip of his shaft.

His muscles tautened. He went to sit up, but she fattened her hand on his stomach, commanding him to stop. She watched him accept her order. Slowly he lay back, but he never took her eyes from hers. She kept his gaze as she lowered her head and took him into her mouth.

A sharp breath hissed between his teeth. He would have moved, but for her hand splayed on his stomach. She rolled her tongue over the head. He instinctively bucked, driving himself further into her mouth. She kept it there and sucked. She used her tongue to trace the throbbing vein, used her lips to massage the outside of the shaft.

She let him retreat from her mouth then took him back in. His fists ground into the fronds around him. She realized she had her hands free. She massaged his thigh and cupped the rest of his manhood in her hand. She gently massaged the skin, setting her own rhythm with her hands and her mouth. His shaft bucked and throbbed larger, growing more rigid with every duck of her head. She went faster, manipulating him with her tongue, mouth, fingers, delighting in the effect she had on him.

He groaned aloud. He grasped the wrist that held his stomach, reached to her hips and pulled her so that she was positioned above his heated member. “Now it is my turn again,” he ground between clenched teeth.

He lowered her down onto his manhood. She gasped as the tip entered her slick entrance, shuddered as he drove her down, filling her, stretching beyond description until her inner thighs rested on his hips. She was deliciously, completely full with him inside her.

She moved and an intense tingle zinged through her. He bucked his hips, driving her up. Then he lowered his hips, the movement causing her to rest more fully on him. His hard stomach muscles cushioned her, pressing to cause exquisite, rippling spirals of sensation through her.

She pressed her hands on his chest, lifted from him and returned so slowly that she felt every ridge on his shaft as it buried so deep into her. She set up a slow rhythm and rode him. Her body absorbed the thrilling embers of sensation that cascaded through her. She tipped her head back, bouncing on him, impaled on a vortex to bliss.

The sensation built until it filled her to completion. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, was a prisoner to the torrents that sparked every nerve ending into brilliant, multi-colored life. Gregory gripped her hips and with a groan and a final driving thrust, arched his back and ground himself into her. His member throbbed once and there was a heated spill within her as he joined her in pure glory.

She fell forward, over his chest, too limp and boneless to do anything else. His heart thumped rapidly, as though he had run a mile. She put her hand to where she felt the vibrations the most. He drew his arms about her, pressed her to him and she knew, that together, they had just found true paradise.

“We have to go back to the cave.”

Her hand had stilled on his chest, her warm palm pressed into his skin. She hadn't moved from her position tucked into the side of him, one of her legs thrown over the top of his, head resting on his shoulder, her blazing hair spilling over his shoulder, but tension had crept into her body. He felt it in the now taut lines of her back, the stiffness in her shoulders. It spilled from her voice.

He clasped her arm, the other tightened around her waist. His first reaction was that he didn't want to. They could just stay here, naked, together. But he knew that they had to end this nightmare.

His first instinct was to do what he had done before. Leave her and face the danger himself, but he knew how that would end. This time, he had to share the danger, knowing the outcome could be as bad, or worse, than it had. He loved Estelle, and to know that was to let her face danger. The only thing he could do was to face the same with her.

With a sigh, Estelle raised herself onto her elbow and looked down at him. “I think I know how to overpower this thing.”

“How can you be certain?”

“When I was lost in that blackness, all I felt was cold and miserable. There was no way out. It fed off my wretchedness. It
wanted
me to feel that way, like it had me in its power and it was using me somehow. But then, when I felt the warmth, saw the light, there was hope. It was instantaneous and that thing went away. It didn't like it. I think if we can somehow show those lost men the light you showed me then it will lose its power over them.”

“That's near impossible.”

“I need to connect with them, get into their minds. Use my gift. I can show them the way out of that darkness. Gregory, some of them have been locked in there for years.” Estelle shivered. Her eyes were round and bright. She knew the horror. Relived it as they spoke.

“I might even be able to save my father,” Estelle whispered. “I have to face that thing by myself, talk to it, fight it. I think then we might have a chance.”

She would want to rescue them all. It was in her nature to try and save people from suffering despite her own safety. He knew she was right, but hesitancy held him back from concurring. “It's too risky. I can't entertain the thought of you doing that,” he said.

“It's the only way. This time I'll have you to guide me there. Gregory, you showed me what to look for in all that darkness. All I have to do is think of you, and I'll find my way back. Only blindness keeps you there in the cold and the dark, and you are blind in there if you can't find love. You know, it's all you really take with you wherever you go. It's the one thing that this god does not understand and that is its weakness.”

“What if you're not right? What if it happens again and you can't get back to me.”

“I have to try,” she said.

“But what if you can't? What if you are lost again beyond finding? Are you willing to take that risk?”

“Then promise me you'll save Paradise. Tell my friends what became of me,” she said.

“And what of me?” His voice was low, careful.

A small smile touched her lips. “You are why I will succeed.”

He drew her to him and kissed her long, slow and boundlessly. She was right. They had a higher duty than just to themselves, but just for this moment, this one time, he would put all aside and loose himself in her. He knew with all certainty that they would go and try and defeat this monster that had been unearthed, but here, now there were just the two of them and that was all that mattered.

It would be all that ever mattered. Together, they were worth fighting for.

It would be the one sure thing on their side. Between the two of them, if anyone had the ability to stop this vile creature, heartbreakingly, it was her. And if anything went wrong and she was taken from him once again, he would thank God that he had known just this little taste of her for this short time.

If they didn't do anything Jack Cutlass, General Marcus Worthington and this unearthed god would destroy the world, one little part at a time. And that was too much a tragedy to contemplate. There would be no end until this god was stopped.

There was a clarity to their situation, a powerful driving between them. With that clarity there was a determination, a resolution to succeed. He saw the same spark in her, the same gutsy tenacity that she would give it a damn good try.

“We will do this. Together,” he said.

“Then we go now.”

It was dark as they trekked back to the cave. The moon was bright, lending enough light to negotiate the lush bush land. Estelle was quiet and as preoccupied as he, each resigned to their thoughts and purpose. It was the same as entering any battle. He had seen the same with many sailors, knowing that they would have their own part to play, realizing that it might be their life that would end on this day. He was sure Estelle would have seen the same.