Read Captain Of Her Heart Online
Authors: Barbara Devlin
Tags: #Historical Romance, #Regency Romance, #Regency England, #Romance, #Britain, #Military
“
Stop
.” Gasping in shock, she pounded his back with her fists. “You are hurting me.”
“Alex, hold still.” Jason planted her wrists at either side of her head. “Calm down, darling. It will pass.”
“I am calm.” She winced. “And I am still.”
“You most certainly are not.” He rested his forehead to hers. “Virgin’s discomfit, which occurs only once, is unavoidable and brief, and it will ease when you relax.”
“I am relaxed.” With a deep breath, she gazed at her captain and adjusted her legs.
“Only you would argue with me, mid-coitus. Yet, had I done my job properly, you should not retain the ability to think, much less speak. So I may have failed you, in my haste to have you, sweetheart.” With his teeth he nipped her nose. “Allow me to rectify said deficiency. Kiss me.”
Again, Alex applied herself in obeisance of his request, and when Jason flexed his spine, withdrew from her, and then reversed course, she braced for the agony, until he seated his flesh deep within hers. To her amazement, a new, pleasant, and overpowering enticement captured her senses.
To her unutterable delight, Jason repeated the succulent slip and slide, carrying her to a place where she existed as something more than herself, often altering his cadence to grind his hips to hers in maddening, illicit rotations. The incomparable voluptuous attachment, more emotional than physical, and far more arresting than she could have fathomed, left her reeling, and Alex surrendered to the all-encompassing sensual tide.
But she wrenched to the mortal plane, as panic danced a jig down her spine, when her knight reared up, hooked his arms behind her knees, and lifted her legs into the air. Exposed and vulnerable, she stared at her conqueror, and he winked. For a scarce second, she smiled, and then he thrust. Oh, what she felt, as she no longer knew where she ended and he began. She screamed his name, but it came to her in an echo, as if from afar.
Just as Alex thought she could bear no more, everything inside her twisted and turned to accommodate her captain. Then the world tilted, and the now familiar delicious spasms provoked another shriek of exultation. And there it was—that mystical realm where she separated from her corporal self and drifted on an imaginary cloud of ecstasy.
#
In the faint light that signaled the dawn of a new day, in more ways than one, Jason slipped from Alex’s side, much to his regret. At the washstand, he splashed cold water on his face, shaved, and then cleaned his teeth. As he brushed his hair, he paused, leaned on the edge of the basin, gazed at his reflection in the mirror, and frowned. “Collingwood, what have you done?”
With her hair in a tangled mess, the woman of his dreams slept the sleep of the sated. In a flash, he closed his eyes and revisited cherished memories of the stormy night and his questionable endeavors, which had resulted in the salacious education and utter debauchery of the highborn daughter of a duke.
In the closet, he stepped into a pair of buckskin breeches, shrugged into a lawn shirt and a grey waistcoat, and then tugged on his Hessians. As he tied his cravat in a precise mathematical, a lilting tapestry of feminine sighs and achingly sweet cries echoed in his ears, along with a bold request he would treasure until he died:
May we do it again, Jason?
To his credit, he had given her what she wanted—thrice.
With a chuckle, he shook his head. The brazen wench, with a body made for sin and a voluptuous appetite to rival his own, had kept pace and loved him well into the wee hours. Indeed, for a barely ex-virgin, his Alex manifested irresistible temptation that could make a grown man weep and drive him mad as a March hare for want of her.
After retrieving his coat from a peg, he returned to admire the inimitable society miss. Heaven on earth rested beneath wrinkled sheets and a mountain of blankets, which presented a far cry from the woman who had woken him with a bawdy massage of his oh-so-reliable morning erection and then proceeded to feed his hunger with his most favored fare. With her cheek cupped in her palm, she evoked a familiar comparison to Botticelli’s angels. Given the events of last night, Aphrodite better suited Alex.
The fire had guttered, and the room had grown cold, so he situated three logs in the rack and tended the hearth, until he had stoked a roaring blaze. Cradling his head in his hands, he groaned. “Enough of this insanity.”
Invested with unswerving determination, by which she might have been intimidated were she
compos mentis
, he stalked his vulnerable, incognizant lady. At bedside, he leaned over her and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I have wronged you, Alex. And I pray that, some day, you will forgive me.”
Despite mental warnings to the contrary, Jason claimed a kiss from his sleeping siren. If not for his duties to the Crown, he would forgo the shipyard and spend a sennight in her arms. Yet more pressing matters held his attention and calmed his Jolly Roger.
In slumber, Alex gave vent to a sultry moan, cast a feminine smile, and shifted, baring a creamy shoulder. Had he thought her temptation personified? The woman was downright lethal.
“Rest well, sweetheart. God knows you earned it.” Averting his gaze, he stood and drew the blanket to her chin. “I should not have taken you, as we cannot marry amid war, so I vow never to weigh anchor in your harbor again.”
Given their nocturnal activities, she had not written the summons for her coach, and he would encourage her to compose that missive tonight, as he had to send her home. Donning his coat, he walked to the door. With his hand on the knob, he stopped and glanced at his lady. Without doubt, he would break his newly sworn oath the second he returned to the cottage.
#
With a healthy yawn and a robust stretch, Alex flinched, as she ached in places she had not known she could ache. Cocooned in warm blankets, which were supplemented by a roaring blaze in the fireplace, she rubbed her eyes and sniffed. It took her a few minutes to discern where she had slept and, more importantly, with whom she had shared a bed. As recognition dawned, a virile melody of male grunts and groans serenaded her, salacious images from the glorious tryst with Jason danced in her brain, and she bolted upright, hugged herself, and squealed in delight. “
Hallelujah
.”
Clutching the covers to her chest, Alex scanned her immediate vicinity, wiggled her toes, and giggled. Had she known her chivalrous knight would find a nightmare so inspiring, she would have conjured all manner of nocturnal demons, a long time ago. At last, she had got her captain to pounce and, oh, had he pounced. Of course, he had licked, suckled, nibbled, and caressed every inch of her body, as well, and she had no complaints.
Now if only he would propose.
With that thought weighing heavy on her heart and mind, she flung back the blankets, leaped from the bed, and snatched from the floor the lawn shirt Jason had worn yesterday. When she donned the simple garment, her nautionnier knight’s signature sandalwood scent wreathed her.
“Hello.” At the long mirror, she studied her reflection and smiled. “My name is Alexandra Collingwood, wife of Jason Collingwood, captain of the
Intrepid
.”
A fanciful illusion sprung to life, the sidewalks of London magically appeared in the tiny cottage in Plymouth, and Alex enacted her own private promenade. With a curtsey, she nodded an acknowledgement to an imaginary visitor. “Good afternoon, I am Mrs. Collingwood. Do you know my husband? He is the bravest, handsomest sailor in the Royal Navy.”
Whirling in circles, as a giddy young girl with a new dress, she laughed aloud—and then came to an abrupt halt at the footboard. A vivid crimson stain marred the pristine white sheet. Had Caroline not warned that most women bled upon the loss of their maidenhead? Alex had always presumed that a lie to encourage chastity, as the prospect had certainly frightened her.
Grasping a fistful of linen, she hauled the covers from the mattress. Despite her budding friendship with Molly, Alex could not share the particulars of something so personal, with the charwoman. Yet she would kill to confide in one of her lifelong friends. And now she understood Cara’s reticence after the elder Douglas had seduced Lance.
Had Alex thought she loved Jason? In the wake of their torrid night of passion, what she now harbored for her captain far exceeded the depth of affection she had coveted upon her arrival at the humble abode, so she would speak of it not as a whimsical crush or fancy.
In mere minutes, she added a log to the fire in the bedchamber and then lit another blaze in the great room. After boiling sufficient water for the tub and the large washbasin, she soaked the soiled sheets as she bathed.
Later, dressed in one of Molly’s modest frocks, and with her hair braided, Alex scrubbed the stain. She had just rinsed away the evidence of her affair when the cook-maid strolled through the door.
“Alex, what are you doing?” The charwoman untied and removed her bonnet and then shrugged from her coat. “This is my light day, and you have already completed one of my primary tasks.”
“I thought if I made an early start on our chores, you might consent to join me for brunch.” Alex stood upright, stretched her back, and wiped her brow. “And will you help me wring the linens?”
“Of course.” Molly halted opposite Alex and smiled. “And I should love to have brunch with you, but you need not have gone to so much trouble, as the housework remains my duty.”
“Nonsense. You are never a bother.” Alex twisted one way, and Molly rotated the fabric in the other direction. “I quite enjoy the work, as it keeps me honest.”
#
A sennight later, as Alex looked back on the days subsequent to the consummation of her relationship with Jason, her delightful memories coupled with dreams for their future. And although her knight had yet to broach the question foremost on her mind, she anticipated a proposal with baited breath.
On Wednesday, when he returned from the docks, she had hoped for a betrothal agreement. Instead, Jason had stormed through the door like a bull in a china shop, charged her without reservation, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her to their bed.
Hours had passed before they dined.
Thursday featured a devilish repeat performance. As she had nursed a pot of stew, she innocently inquired whether or not her captain had an appetite, to wit he replied, “I am starved.” With that, he had scooped her into his arms and conveyed her to their bed.
Hours had passed before they dined.
Friday, ah, Friday, now that was a truly memorable evening. After donning his silk robe, she had met her lusty knight at the door and made a bold declaration. “Tonight, I wish to ride you, and you must teach me.” And with his prurient pedagogy, her rogue sailor more than fulfilled her challenge.
Hours had passed before they dined.
Saturday and Sunday, they scarcely moved beyond their chamber, except when Alex prepared their meals. But what she had not expected was Jason’s sneak attack after lunch. Just as she had dried and put away the dishes, he spread her across the little table and made love to her until she screamed. She would never look at the kitchen the same, again.
And that brought her to Monday evening. As Molly had departed, Alex awaited her rakish sea captain’s return, wearing nothing but a smile and one of his lawn shirts, which she left open, to invigorate her man. How she loved rousing her knight.
A familiar clip clop snared her attention, and she doused the fire in the oven, so the braised beef would not burn. After a quick check of the cottage, she stood beside the hearth, hoping the bright blaze would provide a flattering and fortuitous backdrop.
Jason trod into the great room, cast a glance in her direction, and came to an abrupt halt. “My lady, you are a vision.”
“Good evening, Captain of my heart.” She toyed with her single braid. “I missed you today.”
“I never would have guessed as much.” As was his fashion, he lowered his chin and made straight for her. “And I thought of you every second, of every minute we were apart.”
Contrary to his previous enthusiastic onslaughts, he framed her face with his hands and bestowed upon her an inexpressibly tender kiss, and in that moment Alex fell in love with him, all over again. Then Jason bent, swept her off her feet, and conveyed her to their shared quarters, and she took advantage of her position to untie his cravat.
“You wear too many clothes.” After flinging the yard-length of linen to the floor, she unhooked his collar and shrieked when he flung her to the mattress.
“Take off the shirt, sweetheart.” In a flash, he stripped to the waist. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, dropped his boots, stood, and unfastened and shed his breeches. Naked and aroused, he dragged the long mirror to the footboard and situated it, so she could gaze at her reflection.
“Why do we need that?” Perched at the end of the mattress, Alex gulped.
“The shirt, love. Else I will rip it from your beautiful body and add to the mending pile.” Jason positioned behind her. “And I want to admire your face, as I take you.”
“Oh, all right.” Struck with sudden and unwelcome shyness, she shrugged from his garment, and he tossed it to the floor.
“Now, on your knees, Lady Seymour.” With a firm grip on her hips, he knelt between her legs. “Lean forward and clutch the footboard for support.”
In an instant, the diminutive chamber grew unseasonably hot, and she compressed her lips and abided his request. “Like this?”
“Perfect.” And then he bent his head and licked and nibbled her derriere. But when he spread her backside and trailed his tongue along the cleft, in a concupiscent maneuver of which she never would have conceived, her gut clenched.
“
Jason
.” In the mirror, she met his heated stare, as he pressed on her an illicit massage. “What are you doing?”
“Shh.” With a devilish smile, her captain inched close, curled about her body, and penetrated her bottom hole. “Do not fear, sweetheart. Trust me, I will not hurt you.”