When Two Hearts Meet (Brightmore #2)

Chapter Twenty-One

Oriana shifted over his chest, spanning his waist, and propping her chin against his sternum. In fact, the sooner he was able to marry her and have her like this every day, the better. "I suppose you have a better name for it," Cole murmured, continuing the line of conversation as he became momentarily distracted by the way her breasts were globing against his skin.

"Naturally," she returned tartly. "Only the Lord above knows why you could not merely call it the observation deck, is beyond me." Her eyes rolled dramatically for effect and he rumbled with laughter. "But I would expect nothing less of a man, naming something as commonplace as a deck for observation as... as well that."

"Naturally," Cole agreed good naturedly. Idly, he began to stroke the arc of her back and waist that were laid bare for his perusal, the sheet dipping low over their hips. She snuggled closer with a soft sigh of contentment.

"This is nice," Ori said softly. "I do not wish to return if it means I am required to forego time spent with you like this."

"Not for long, Ori." She was pressing soft kisses against his chest, compelling his body to respond in earnest. The day he no longer felt aroused by her touch would be the day his life ended, he knew. "Not as long as it would be if we continued on this voyage, in any event."

"Not for long?" She raised up slightly and nibbled the edge of his jaw, stirring against his length with a cheeky intent he didn't fail to recognise. "What do you mean?"

"Oriana," he said gruffly now, grabbing her hips and settling her so that her thighs straddled his waist, "you must be aware that after what transpired between us on this ship-" he rolled his hips, bringing his turgid cock against her for emphasis, the feel of her wet and hot making his teeth grind together, "-I will appeal for a special license." She splayed her hands flat against him and elevated herself into a sitting positing. Little minx began to slide her wetness along his length, her movements slow and leisurely while a sly smile curled her lips. God, she was beautiful astride him, golden hair in wild disarray while it tumbled in thick ribbons over her shoulders and breasts. The things he wanted to do to her...

"A special license?" Her hands ran over his abdomen. "Is that necessary?"

"Absolutely. You've besmirched my honour. You are required to do right by me."

"Oh, indeed." She rose up slightly, intending to slip him into her warmth, but Cole placed his hands on her thighs, stopping the movement.

"Turn around," he ordered gruffly, and her eyes widened in question. "Trust me." She complied willingly, twisting her legs over each other until her delicately rounded derriere was in facing him. He groaned at the sight as he lifted her hips, one hand carefully guiding her atop him, bringing her down softly along his length. The feel of her clasping him tightly was too good, the pit of his stomach clenching with tension as he repressed the urge to drive into her in desperate, selfish search for release. "Here now," he gritted out, holding himself as still as feasibly possible, "my defilement is complete."

That earned him a playful glare as she turned to pin him with the look. And what a view he was afforded, the graceful arch of her back underneath a curtain of hair, twin dimples which, for some reason, he found incredibly seductive as they adorned her skin just above the rise of her sweet bottom. With an uncertain movement, she raised her hips and brought them down flatly, gasping softly at the impact. Cole sat up behind her, rolling into her with a movement that was to show her how, a hand on hip guiding her while another swept up her waist, cupping her breast and toying with the hard peak of her nipple.

"Who's defiling who," she wondered breathlessly, and Cole grunted, beyond words, and nipped her shoulder instead, pushing inside her with a sure rhythm now, consumed by her slick heat and the way she felt, tasted, moved...