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He does the same to me, staring at me with reverence as his heated gaze drinks me in, wordless and rapt.

Then he picks me up and moves me over his shaft and shoves up into me and he’s so thick, so stiff and immovable, that I feel the breath being pushed out of my lungs.

“Look at you, you miracle of a creature,” he murmurs, his brogue getting thick. “Look at how you take me so well, how well you ride my cock.”

My back arches, thighs trembling already, and I feel him so deeply that I can’t even think straight.

“I need to take from you right now,” he says, his nostrils flaring as he raises my hips up with the thrust of his. “And I need you to give. Can you do that for me, luv?”

I nod, closing my eyes. He doesn’t realize that as much as I’m giving, I’m taking too. I concentrate on the movement of my hips, letting him guide me where he wants me, gasping with pleasure every time the root of his shaft slides against my most sensitive area.

He adjusts himself for a moment and then his cock goes in deeper, pressing against some aching part inside of me that I didn’t know existed.

I let out a thin sound of need, stretched to the breaking point.

I want so much of him, too much, the feeling like a vice around my heart.

My hips start moving in small circles above him as he thrusts up, my legs shaking as I start to increase the pace. He moves his hands to my hips and holds me tight, keeping me in place.

“I won’t last too long if you keep doing that, luv,” he warns.

Then he’s suddenly pulling me off of him and flipping me so that I’m on my back underneath him. He grins at me before kissing me deeply with a searching tongue as he spreads my legs with one hand and pushes his length back inside me, somehow thicker than before.

I let out a harsh moan, relishing the feeling of his hard, heavy weight on top of me, the feeling of hot skin pressed against hot skin. I reach up and feel along the muscles of his rock-hard arms, his broad shoulders, his taut back, always wanting to touch him this way, explore the smooth and rigid planes of his skin. His body is just as magnificent to feel as it is to see.

“Keep touching me,” he whispers, nibbling along my jaw, then down my neck. “Keep your hands on me, luv, I’ve been dying to be worshipped by you.”

I do as he says, my palms coasting over every part of him, especially enjoying the feel of his rear, the tight firm muscles flexing under my touch as he uses them to keep plowing into me. Damp with sweat, he grunts with every hard shove, every circular jab of his hips making the bed creak beneath us. His arms are flexed, mouth open slightly as he stares down at where his cock disappears inside me. I do the same for a moment, mesmerized at the sight, of how thick he is, how tight I feel, the slick sound of our meeting filling the room. I feel like we’re animals in heat, and perhaps that’s not too far off base when it comes to creatures like us.

Then he pulls out with a grunt and I’m gasping, feeling bereft and hollow and aching without him, and he quickly rolls to the side and thrusts back inside me. He reaches down and hooks his arm under my thigh and starts fucking me hard from behind as we both lie on our sides.

He brings one of his hands to his mouth where he spits on his fingers before reaching down and placing it on my clitoris, even though I’m already drenched enough. While he gives my swollen slick skin a hard pass with his fingers, circling and circling, his other goes to my breasts where he pinches my nipples until I’m crying out.

“Oh, cearban,” he gasps into my neck. “You sound like you want more, you greedy little creature. Come for me, my luv.”

I’m more than ready. I want the hard clench of it, I want to be violently shaken and let loose into stardust. The need to climax claws up my spine, threatening to destroy me and I brace for an orgasm.

“Let go,” he says, biting my neck but not piercing the skin. “Now.”

“Aye Captain,” I manage to say which brings out a huff of amusement from him, his breath hot on my neck.

It takes another hard rub from his fingers to set me off and I choke on the noises rising up from my throat. Heat prickles across my body like an electric storm and I’m gasping for breath, calling out his name, seeing stars.

“Fuck,” he grunts in my ear.

His muscles tremble, his sounds growing louder and he’s driving in deeper and faster, until I feel like I’m being fucked to death in a wild, messy fervor. He hammers into me as if he’s lost to madness, as if he’d die without spilling his seed inside me.

Then he’s brought to completion and I feel his hot spurts inside of me, his hips slowing down into three hard shoves.

And he stills, holding my body against his, his breath short and ragged. I collapse against the bed, against him, and he pulls out as we both lay on our backs.

I swallow, my heart beating like butterfly wings in my chest, and stare up at the wood planks of the ceiling. With my body slowly returning back to normal, my mind does too. It returns to the sorrow. It returns to the future of unknowns.

“Maren,” he whispers, brushing the hair off my forehead and kissing my cheek with such tenderness that my heart skips a beat. When he’s this soft it completely disarms me.

“Yes?”

“We’ll be anchored in the Bay of Banderas soon,” he says. “I don’t know what you wish to do.”