THE CAPTURE: The Marriage Diaries, Volume 6 (Invitation To Eden) (6 page)

Yeah, she was still a little miffed about him withholding her climax. “Maybe next time you won’t be so stubborn and disobedient.”

“Next time?” she asked hopefully.

“The fantasy isn’t over yet, sweetheart,” he assured her. “We’ve got tonight and all day tomorrow, and I’m not done pillaging and plundering the wench I paid a fortune for.”

“Thank goodness,” she said, the excitement back in her voice.

She turned around in the large tub to face him, almost sloshing water over the edge as she settled on her knees between his spread thighs. Her gorgeous tits were now out of the water, her nipples dripping with beads of moisture he wanted to lap off with his tongue. With a sultry smile, she cupped both of those luscious mounds in her hands, squeezing and fondling them, deliberately tempting him.

It worked. She lightly pinched her nipples, gasped, and gave him a coy look that sent a rush of heat straight to his cock.

“Mayhap I can entice my new master to take care of this terrible, throbbing ache I have between my legs,” she said, reverting back to character and reigniting her pirate fantasy while her hands traveled lower, dipping into the water and sliding straight down to her pussy. “Or mayhap, you’d rather watch me touch myself . . .”

She must have stroked across her sensitive clit, because she closed her eyes, dropped her head back, and let out a sweet moan that nearly convinced him to take his own cock in his fist and jerk-off to the erotic, dick-pulsing show. In a different scenario, he would have given an enthusiastic
hell yes
, but he’d held back her orgasm for a reason, to teach her a lesson as his
slave
, and there was no way he was going to allow her to give herself that ultimate pleasure by her own hand . . . or fingers, as it may be.

No, when that explosive orgasm happened, it was going to belong to
him
. Given by him. Taken by him. Her surrender savored by only him.

Recognizing those sexy noises she made in the back of her throat just before she came spurred him into action. He jolted forward so fast that this time water did splash over the rim, which also startled Jillian. Her eyes blinked open just as he plunged his hands beneath the surface and grasped her wrists, yanking them away from her body.

“I didn’t give you permission to come, wench,” he said, his voice dark with warning.

She bit her bottom lip, her expression etched with frustration. “I’m dying for an orgasm after what you put me through earlier. I’m so on edge, it hurts.”

“That’s exactly where I want you to be,” he said, brushing his thumbs across the pulse points in her wrist. “I was serious when I said
I
would decide when it’s time for you to come. If you dare to touch yourself again, I will lock you in a chastity belt and find my own pleasure in much more creative ways.”

Her eyes widened at the threat, but she didn’t provoke him further. She knew him well enough to realize that he wouldn’t hesitate to follow through on his ultimatum.

She tossed her head back, her only display of rebellion. “The name Black Heart really does fit you.”

He smirked. “Aye, it does,” he murmured. “I’m going to let you go, but I expect you to keep your hands and fingers to yourself, and off your pussy. Just relax, and I promise you’ll be rewarded for your good behavior.”

“Relax?” she repeated skeptically, an adorable pout on her lips. “Easy for you to say. You already
had
an orgasm.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, and it was pretty fucking awesome, too.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “No one likes a braggart. Or a rogue.”

“Oh, you
love
the rogue,” he said all too knowingly. “And this particular rogue is
very
hungry.”

He stood up, and pulled her to her feet at the same time. Water sluiced down their naked bodies, and he helped her out of the tub and onto a thick floor mat, then dried her off with a warm, fluffy towel. He slipped on one of the soft, luxurious robes hanging from a hook on the wall, and wrapped her up in the other one, then tied the sash. There was no sense in them getting dressed since he wasn’t done having his way with her tonight.

Her stomach growled, and she gave him an impish look. “I guess I’m hungry, too. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

“Then let’s go eat dinner.” Grabbing her hand, he led her out of the bathroom and gave her a quick, lascivious grin over his shoulder. “Though consider yourself warned, slave, because I plan to have
you
for dessert.”

“I can’t wait,” she said, her voice breathless.

They stepped into the main room, and while they’d been enjoying their bath, someone had come into the cottage and set up the table with their evening meal. There were silver platters of food laid out, lit candles burning in crystal holders, and a bottle of Bollinger champagne resting on ice, just as he’d requested.

She glanced from the single place setting and lone champagne flute arranged at the end of the table, to him. “Does only one of us get to eat?” she asked curiously.

“No, we only need one setting because I’m going to feed you.” He sat down on the chair and tugged her onto his lap.

She settled herself across his hard thighs and batted her lashes playfully at him. “Why, Mr. Black Heart, are you trying to seduce me?”

“Pirates don’t seduce,” he replied gruffly, playing the part of a scoundrel and blackguard. “They abduct, demand, and ravage what’s theirs. I believe I’ve already proven all three dark and dangerous qualities right beyond that red door, and I have no qualms doing it again.”

She smiled and touched her fingers to his jaw. “I really don’t think that heart of yours is as black as you claim.”

Jillian had always seen the best in him, even when he, himself, had believed the worst. Even now, in a fantasy element, she was trying to soothe the savage beast who’d imprisoned her, but he maintained the pretense of a dominant pirate. “Do not mistake my kindness in feeding you for tenderness or leniency.”

He glanced over at the buffet of food spread out before them—bites of lobster to dip in melted butter, grilled baby lamb chops with a creamy mint sauce, strips of orange beef tenderloin, and mini crab cakes—and picked up a succulent piece of lobster. He immersed it in the garlic butter sauce and fed it to her, letting his fingers rub enticingly over her lips before taking a bite for himself.

She moaned in pure delight as she chewed the succulent shellfish. “Oh my God, that is the best lobster I’ve ever had. I could get used to this.”

He had to agree. So far, everything about the island of Eden was high quality, luxurious, and indulgent. From their accommodations, to their fantasy, to the feast that had been prepared for them to eat.

He also loved being able to spoil her, to give back to his wife for all those years she’d taken care of him, supporting him even through those more difficult times. He’d tried to do the same in his own alpha-male way and being the provider of the family, but now he was learning that it was the little things he did that meant so much to her, and made her feel special. Like something as simple as feeding her this meal.

*     *     *

He poured a glass of expensive champagne, bringing the crystal rim to her mouth to let her take a drink of the sparkling wine. He continued to let her sample each of the dishes, using only his fingers as utensils, which made the process more sensual and decadent.

Once they were done with the main entries and had consumed nearly the entire bottle of Bollinger, he reached for one of the chocolate covered strawberries—one of her favorite confections—and lifted it to her lips.

“Dessert?” she asked oh-so-seductively.

“Yours, not mine,” he assured her with a rakish grin. “I’ll eat mine in just a bit.”

Her lashes fell half-mast, and a seductive smile curved her mouth as she very provocatively licked the tip of the treat, making him imagine that sinful tongue lapping across the head of his cock, which was quickly stiffening against her ass. She slowly sank her teeth into the fruit, and gasped as the juices inside the strawberry spurted out, trickling down her chin and dripping onto her chest.

Startled by just how succulent the berry was, her eyes widened as she raised a hand to catch the liquid splashing into the opening of her robe.

“Put your hands down,” he ordered before she could stop the juices from dripping down her body. “I’ll clean it up.”

Obeying him, she lowered her arms and continued to chew the strawberry in her mouth, realization dawning in her eyes. “The fruit is infused with amaretto. No wonder there was so much juice inside. Between the champagne and the dessert, are you trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?” she accused softly.

He laughed as he tugged on the sash of her robe, then spread the sides open, baring her naked body to his gaze. “Not drunk. I just want you to feel good.”

She swiped her tongue lazily along her bottom lip, licking up the remnant flavors of strawberry and amaretto. “I already feel
very
good.”

“It’s about to get better.” Cupping the back of her neck in one of his palms, he dipped his head to lick away the juice on her chin, then settled his mouth over hers in a deep, passionate, tongue-tangling kiss while his other hand rubbed the half-eaten strawberry and melting chocolate all over her breasts.

She moaned and shifted restlessly on his lap, her back arching as he coated her nipples in the sticky fruit and juice. Her fingers threaded through his hair, and she attempted to tug his head lower, obviously trying to pull his mouth down to her breasts.

He lifted his mouth from hers and aimed a dark look at her face. Sensual agony etched her features, and her eyes were glazed with lust and need. “Have you forgotten who’s in charge, slave?” he demanded gruffly.

“No,” she said, the harsh bite in his voice yanking her out of the sensual fog she’d slipped into. “You are, master.”

“Then release my hair and do not try and dictate what you want me to do, nor will you come until I allow you to or else I will restrain your hands and legs again.” He skimmed the ripe strawberry down her quivering stomach, circling it slowly, erotically, around her navel. “Do you understand?”

Her fingers untangled from his hair, and she sucked in a breath when he deliberately slid the fruit lower, rubbing the juices and pulp across her bare mound. “I . . . I don’t think I can hold back.”

“You can. You
will
.” He buried his face against the side of her neck, lapping away a trickle of nectar from her skin, then followed the trail down to breasts to lick them clean, too. “Now open your legs
wide
, wench.”

She hesitated for a moment, then slowly parted her knees, opening herself to him. He smeared the sticky sweetness along the inside of her thighs, then dragged the juicy, amaretto infused strawberry along her slit, coating the folds of her sex with the lush dessert . . . again and again, while tracing an unhurried, maddening path around her clit.

“That’s for me to enjoy later, when I feast on your cunt.” He swirled his tongue around her nipple, his teeth nipping just hard enough to walk that fine line between pain and pleasure.

Jillian whimpered, unable to remember a time when her body had been strung so tautly, with her struggling not to give in to the need pulsing between her legs. Her head fell back and with every slick pass of the fruit along her pussy, her breathing deepened and her hips undulated of their own accord, until she feared there was no stopping the orgasm gathering like a violent storm within her, just seconds from unleashing its fury—despite any consequences she’d have to endure from her rogue pirate.

The delicious swell of ecstasy started to crest, then abruptly eased off when he pulled his mouth from her nipple and no longer stroked her with the strawberry.

“Such a good girl,” he praised with a satisfied smile. “Are you finally ready to submit to me?”

She drew in a shuddering breath and nodded. In the dungeon room, she’d been all about being stubborn and rebellious, and she’d paid the price for her defiance. Now, she was willing to give him anything he wanted from her, so long as it resulted in her own pleasure.

“Get on your knees in front of me,” he commanded. “Take off your robe and unclip your hair so I can wrap those silky strands around my fist while I fuck your mouth.”

Heat and desire collided in her belly at his raw words, and she didn’t hesitate to do his bidding. Moving off his lap, she shrugged out of her robe, released her hair from the top-knot on her head so that the thick strands tumbled around her shoulders, then knelt in front of him, anxiously awaiting his next order.

He offered her a pleased smile for her obedience as he tugged open his own robe with one hand, while the other still held the half-eaten strawberry. The lapels of the robe fell to the sides, and her gaze traveled from his toned, muscular chest, along his ripped belly, all the way down to the hard, thick column of flesh jutting up from between his spread legs. A large bead of pre-come formed on the engorged crest, and her mouth watered for a taste of him in the worst way.

He wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock, holding it upright, and she watched in fascination and sexual hunger as he smeared the strawberry-amaretto nectar up and down his erection, until his shaft was coated with the dessert. He brought the macerated fruit to the head of his penis and swiped it over the bead of moisture leaking from the tip, then reached out and rubbed the sticky sweetness of all their combined juices along her bottom lip.

“Eat it,” he said, and pushed what was left of the berry and melting chocolate into her mouth.

She chewed, undeniably aroused by all the decadent flavors passing over her tongue, both sweet and salty. His essence and hers, all wrapped up in a candied confection.

She licked her lips with a sultry swipe of her tongue and glanced up at him, where he was reclining in the chair like a king—a gorgeous, magnificently naked sultan, presiding over his submissive concubine. “I want more.”

“Don’t worry, there’s plenty more for you to enjoy right here,” he said, his husky voice tinged with amusement. “You have a mess to clean up, slave, so get to work.”