The Pirate Prince Read online

  Suddenly the ship lurched up and then down. Willow’s feet slipped out from under her, and then the worst thing that could happen did. The line snapped. Willow screamed as she slid across the wet deck. No one heard her. She knew real fear when a wave higher than the ship surged over the sides, lifting Willow and carrying her toward a watery grave.

  Willow said a short prayer, closed her eyes and prepared to die. She cheated death by scant seconds when something hard and unyielding caught her flailing legs, bringing her slide into eternity to an abrupt halt.

  She was dragged backward against the pull of the water, inch by painful inch. After what seemed an eternity, she was hauled to her feet and shoved into her cabin. Breath heaving in and out of her chest, Willow struggled to control her trembling. She wiped the water from her eyes and stared up at her savior. Her trembling increased when she looked into the eyes of hell in all its fury.

  “Are you mad?” Dariq shouted. “Whatever possessed you to leave the cabin?”

  Willow swallowed hard, recoiling against Dariq’s rage. “I… I feared you had gone overboard.”

  Her words stopped Dariq in his tracks, but after a moment’s hesitation, his rage regained its momentum. “Have you lost your senses, lady? There was nothing you could have done had I been the hapless man tossed overboard. If I hadn’t seen you hurtling to your death, you would be food for the fish by now.”

  Willow shuddered and lowered her head. Dariq couldn’t have been more blunt. She shouldn’t have left the cabin, she knew that now. But at the time it seemed the right thing to do.

  She looked at him through a fringe of lush golden lashes. “Thank you for saving my life. I know I acted rashly. I do not know what I would have done if you had been swept overboard. Without your protection, I would be fair game for your men. Mustafa would be of no help, for he doesn’t like me.”

  The ship lurched up and came down hard. Dariq was able to remain upright, but Willow went flying, straight into his strong arms. His feet braced wide against the violent roll of the wave, he held Willow’s shivering body until the ship righted itself.

  “We are going to sink,” Willow whispered. “The ship is going to be swamped.”

  “Nay, the Revenge is sturdily built; she won’t sink. You are shivering. Take off your wet clothes and climb into bed. I’ll lash you down so you can’t fall out. Hurry—I must return to my men.”

  Willow hesitated. She wore nothing beneath the shirt and trousers and couldn’t bring herself to undress with Dariq watching. Sensing her dilemma, Dariq grasped her wet shirt and whipped it over her head. A few swift motions and her trousers followed it to the floor.

  Dariq’s breath caught in his throat. Instant arousal was not something that happened to him often, but rarely was a body as perfect as Willow’s. Not even Safiye’s voluptuous curves could compare with Willow’s sleek body. The only thing marring Willow’s perfection was the body hair that he was not accustomed to seeing, although he had to admit the blond fuzz on her mound was enticing. Turkish women’s bodies were shaved and plucked clean of all body hair, a custom foreign women had yet to embrace.

  Regret colored Dariq’s words. “Get into bed; you are shivering.”

  His words released her from some strange trance as Willow crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to her neck. Working against the roll of the ship, Dariq managed to bind the rope around her blanketed form and tie the loose ends to the bedposts.

  “That should hold you,” he said. “The storm should blow itself out soon. I’ll release you when the danger is over.”

  He stared at her a moment, wishing he could join her in the bed. He was soaked clear through to his skin and couldn’t do anything about it until the storm abated and the damage was assessed.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Willow asked.

  “I was thinking how much I would like to join you and warm your body with my hands, my mouth and my tongue. Your body was made for love. Think on that, beauty, for one day it will come to pass.”

  The arousing vision of Willow’s body remained imprinted upon his brain as Dariq walked out of the cabin into the raging storm. Glancing up at the dark, angry sky, he saw no visible sign that the storm was abating, despite his optimistic words to Willow. The storm still had its teeth, and he would need all his skill to bring the ship safely to port. He had no idea how far off course the ship was being blown, and wouldn’t know until he could see the stars to take a reading.

  Dariq saw that the line had been reattached and started across the deck, hand over hand, his body braced against the force of the wind. He reached the rail, where Mustafa and several crewmen were peering into the swirling water.

  “Who went overboard?” Dariq asked.

  “Tarrif,” Mustafa replied.

  “Is he gone?”

  “Aye. No man could survive long in that cauldron.”

  “How great is the damage to the ship?”

  “The mizzenmast is gone. Other than that, the damage appears minimal. The Revenge will ride out the storm. Where have you been? I saw you with the woman. What happened?”

  “Lady Willow did something foolish, as usual,” Dariq shouted over the howling wind. “She left the cabin. Had I not seen her, she would have been swept overboard. But, fortunately, I caught her and hauled her to safety.”

  “Foolish woman,” Mustafa growled.

  “She will cause no more trouble, I have seen to that. I am confident the storm will blow itself out soon.”

  Willow was finally warm again. Cocooned in the blanket, she felt nothing but pity for the men forced to endure the elements at the height of their fury. As often as she had sailed aboard her father’s ships, she had never experienced anything like this before.

  Incredibly, her nausea abated and she managed to doze, lulled by the motion of the ship. She awoke to weak light filtering through the windows and the gentle rocking of the ship.

  Was the storm finally over? Where was Dariq? Until he returned to release her, she was forced to remain bound to the bed. Squirming only pulled the ropes tighter.

  Dariq returned to the cabin a short time later, feet dragging, shoulders bent and his face gray with exhaustion.

  “Is it over?” Willow asked.

  “Aye. Mustafa is assessing the damage.”

  “Untie me.”

  He slumped down on the bed and pulled off his boots. “L-l-let me remove my wet clothing first.”

  Willow feared for his health when she realized he was shivering violently. “Hurry, before you catch your death. Wrap yourself in a blanket.”

  Removing his clothing seemed almost too much effort for Dariq. His fingers fumbled with buttons and ties as he peeled away his wet shirt and trousers. Willow tried not to stare at him, but her weak will betrayed her. He was all virile male, from his handsome face to his large … My goodness, his male parts were beyond breathtaking. She’d seen pictures of Greek statues in books, but the dull flatness of pictures held little resemblance to the magnificent planes and valleys of Dariq’s body.

  She watched through lowered lashes as he untied the rope binding her and flopped down on the bed. Shock shuddered through her when he crawled beneath the covers and pulled her naked body against his.

  “I need your warmth,” he said through chattering teeth. “Do not worry, beauty, I am too tired to do you any harm.”

  Before Willow could gather her wits to voice a protest, Dariq was sound asleep. His body was frigid against hers, and she could almost forgive him for seeking her warmth, for she had been warm and cozy while he had been buffeted by cold winds and chilling rain. She attempted to ease out of bed.

  The moment she moved, his arm tightened around her, holding her captive against his hard body. It took all her willpower to ignore the pleasant pressure of his chest against her back and his lower body spooned against hers. Unable to move, she gave in to exhaustion and slept.

  Dariq awoke hours later, feeling refreshed and deliciously warm. The female body pressed intima
tely against his contributed to the heat slowly rising through his veins. How glorious to wake up with Safiye in his arms. Her warm, fragrant body stirred awake in his arms as he nuzzled her neck.

  His cock had grown hard the instant he felt the softness of her backside pressed against his loins. Beautiful sloe-eyed, dark-haired Safiye knew exactly how to please him. His hand crept around to her breast, cupping it fully. He frowned and opened his eyes when he realized that, unlike the tender mound now nestled against his palm, Safiye’s breast usually overflowed his hand.

  He recalled where he was and who he was with when he saw a wild tangle of golden tresses spilling over the pillow. He picked up a lock of her hair, holding it, feeling the softness of it, silk against his palm.

  “Willow,” he whispered against her ear.

  Willow burrowed against him but did not open her eyes. He wondered what she was thinking.

  “Willow, are you awake? Turn around, beauty.”

  Willow awoke with a jerk. “What are you doing?”

  “Touching you. Do you like it?”

  “No! Take your hands off me.”

  Ignoring her, his fingers sought out her nipple and squeezed gently. “I was too exhausted last night to do more than fall into a dark void of sleep. But I am rested now, and since we are in bed naked, we should take advantage of the situation and begin to explore passion together.”

  Dariq turned her onto her back. Willow struggled to escape; he placed a leg over hers to hold her in place.

  “Shall we start by kissing?” Dariq asked. “We can progress from there at our leisure.”

  “No, I—”

  Her words gurgled to a halt as Dariq’s mouth claimed hers lips. The surge of primal heat shocked Willow’s body into stillness. He broke off the kiss and stared at her. The hot darkness of his gaze filled her with memories of how he’d looked naked. His face was now harsh with emotion, savage with demand. He was a beautiful animal, infinitely dangerous, infinitely sexual. He terrorized and fascinated her in equal parts.

  Suddenly she became aware of his hands moving over her, touching her, finding places that made her jerk with awareness. She tensed, and then arched against the jolting heat of his caresses. The feeling was so intense, she was afraid to acknowledge its existence.

  “Does that feel good?” Dariq whispered.

  “No. I hate it.”

  “Liar. Perhaps you’ll like this better.”

  His hand moved slowly down her body, his callused palm creating a pleasant friction against her inflamed skin. Then she felt him reach between her thighs. She stiffened and gazed up at him. He wasn’t smiling. His silver eyes were rapt, a look of such intense ardor in them that she had to fight to catch her breath.

  He found her lips; he tasted of untamed things, wicked things, and sin. She gasped against his mouth.

  “Be easy,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you.”

  His hand moved along the inside of her leg in a caressing stroke. She jerked in response. “What are you doing?”

  “I did not want it to be here, but lust dictates the time and place, not I. I wanted silken sheets and perfumed oils, but you are here and I am here, so the time must be now.”

  His lips moved downward, licking a little pool of sweat from the hollow of her throat. His mouth trekked lower, pausing to suckle a pert nipple before moving on. Willow tried to shift away from his questing mouth, but the weight of his big body held her securely in place. When his tongue dipped into her navel, her breath left her lungs in a loud whoosh.

  “Dariq, please do not do this to me.”

  He lifted his head and gave her a beguiling look filled with sensual promise. “You will leave this bed a virgin; that I promise. Now be quiet and let me kiss you.”

  His promise gave her scant comfort. She scarcely had time to form a coherent thought when Dariq shoved her legs apart and settled between them. She felt him pressing her swollen folds open; lightning flashed through her when she realized where he intended to kiss her.

  She rose up on her elbows. “You cannot do that! ’Tis wicked!”

  “Who is to say what is wicked and what is not? I want to taste your sweet nectar.”

  His tongue found her, stroking gently, touching something so sensitive that her thinking process closed down. Her elbows collapsed beneath her and she fell back on the mattress, staring blindly down at his dark head between her legs. Oh, God, he was licking her, in long, sinuous laps that made her body quiver with uncontrollable excitement.

  Try though she might, Willow could not control the motion of her hips, rising upward to match her rhythm to his stroking tongue. She felt detached from her body, as if she were floating above it on a cloud of incredible pleasure. Her nerves were stretched taut; she floated higher, reaching for an unattainable peak dangling just out of her reach.

  A heartbeat later, she felt his fingers open her and his tongue slide deep inside her. She lurched and cried out his name. His scent mingled with that of her own arousal, filling her senses. As if needing more of her, he hooked his arms under her thighs and draped her legs over his shoulders. His tongue was a slice of dark magic, licking, savoring, thrusting in and out of her tight passage, driving her toward a place she had never been before.

  She arched up against his hot mouth, pushed by a wildness building inside her; the growing sounds of frenzy in her throat filled the silence of the cabin. A few moments more of this and she would shatter.

  Then she did shatter, her throbbing body dissolving in a pool of pleasure so intense she feared she would drown in it.

  She screamed Dariq’s name.

  The sound brought Dariq surging upward to watch her. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “The loveliest sight in the world is a woman in the throes of ecstasy.”

  “What happened?” Willow asked breathlessly.

  “You experienced an orgasm. ’Tis the greatest pleasure you will ever know.”

  “Did you…?”

  “Nay.” He grasped her hand, placing it over his groin. “My cock is still rock hard.”

  “Did you receive no pleasure?”

  “My pleasure was watching yours.” His silver gaze glittered. “There is something you can do for me, however.” He curled her fingers around his manhood and slowly moved them up and down, teaching her a rhythm as old as mankind.

  His flesh beneath her hand was hard, hot and slick. She didn’t want to touch him like this, but she couldn’t find the will to stop. She curled her fingers around him, moving them up and down the way he had shown her. She felt his body grow taut and his manhood grow even larger. He kept his need in check, but she could feel it, a power coiling out of him and surrounding her.

  “Faster,” he panted. “I’m almost there.”

  His head fell back, his teeth were bared, and he looked as if he were suffering intense pain. Suddenly he lurched upward, shouting his pleasure as he reached his peak. She stared at him. Their eyes locked as the tension drained from his face.

  Willow scooted away, shocked at what had just taken place between them. She had never imagined, never dreamed such things were possible between a man and a woman.

  And she was still technically a virgin.

  Chapter Six

  Reaching for her temper to ease her conscience, Willow shoved Dariq so hard he fell out of bed. Legs sprawled, arms akimbo, he glared up at her. “Why did you do that?”

  “You had no right to do what you did to me.”

  Dariq picked himself up off the floor, not in the least embarrassed by his nudity. “Perhaps not, but you cannot deny that you enjoyed it.”

  Her chin rose. “You forced me. I had no idea what you were doing. Never touch me like that again.”

  As he stood there with his hands on sturdy hips, his legs spread wide, Willow watched in dismay as his manhood sprang up from the nest of dark hair at his groin. She swallowed hard and looked away.

  “You have no say in the matter,” Dariq said. “You are my captive; I can use you in whatever manner I ple
ase.”

  “I thought I was your guest.”

  “Aye, a very special guest. I will personally see that you have everything your heart desires … including pleasure.” He placed a knee on the bed. “There is still time for another lesson.”

  There came a knock on the door. Grateful for the reprieve, Willow heaved a sigh. Dariq reached for his trousers and pulled them on.

  “Who is it?”

  “Osman. I bring fresh water.”

  Dariq sent Willow a look lush with sensual promise before bidding Osman to enter.

  “Do you wish to shave, master?” Osman asked, looking anywhere but at the rumpled bed.

  “Aye. Take the water into my sleeping quarters. Then fetch another pitcher for the lady.”

  “He knows,” Willow hissed after Osman scooted out the door.

  Dariq shrugged. “What does it matter? You are a woman, and women are made to give and receive pleasure. ’Tis a natural thing.”

  “Not to me. I had a proper English upbringing. ’Tis sinful and improper for a woman to enjoy”—she blushed—“sex.”

  “You said your mother is French. Are those her sentiments?”

  “Mama marches to her own drummer. English society was too restrictive for her, but it suits me very well.”

  A slow grin spread over Dariq’s face. “You liked what we did.”

  Her face turned even redder. “I… I… You are too experienced for me. I did not know how to protect myself against your sensual nature.”

  “Why would you want to?”

  Osman’s arrival saved Willow from replying. The lad placed the pitcher of hot water on the washstand and left.

  “I shall leave you to your ablutions while I perform mine,” Dariq said as he crossed the room to his sleeping chamber.

  The moment the door closed behind Dariq, Willow climbed from bed, wrapped a sheet around herself and padded to the washstand. Taking up cloth and soap, She scrubbed all the places Dariq had touched her with his mouth, his hands and his tongue. Then she scrambled into her clothing, ready to face the day.