Page 76 of An Imperfect Scoundrel

“Yes.”

“Who’s paying back a debt.”

“My word isn’t good because I steal things?” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her skin. “What kind of captain would I be if my crew couldn’t trust me?”

“I suppose that makes sense,” she replied, then frowned. “If Mr. Ashmore was to sail to America, and you attacked his ship—”

“I’d kill him,” Cedric growled, unable to hide his hatred for the man whose direct actions caused the death of his son, Charles. “And continue to send money to his daughter.”

“What wrong has Mr. Ashmore committed that you simultaneously loathe and respect him?” asked Alana. “One typically only has that reaction toward family.”

“He’s the reason Charles Ashmore died, and I can’t forgive him for that.” Cedric placed a finger to her lips. “Don’t say the death could have been prevented. This instance didn’t allow for that option.”

“Does Miss Ashmore know the money is coming from a pirate?” she said when he removed his hand from her mouth.

Cedric smiled, shaking his head. This opinionated, red-headed spitfire was going to challenge him all the way to the grave… and he rather enjoyed it.

“She does not, nor do I wish you to inform her after you return to Wiltshire.” He pressed a kiss to Alana’s forehead. “However, you do have my permission to visit with her.”

“Your permission!” She bristled, vibrating with annoyance. “You may control everybody aboard this ship, but you do not determine my life’s course after I leave it.”

“Then I shall have to keep you aboard this ship as long as possible.” He wrapped his second arm around her waist. “Keep struggling, and I’m going to take you a third time this afternoon.”

Before she could react, he rolled them both over, and settled himself between her legs, pinning her arms above her head. His mouth claimed hers, his tongue roughly pushing past her lips, demanding satisfaction.

Her hips lifted, grinding against his growing erection.

Fisting his cock, he pressed into her, sheathing himself with a groan. Pausing, he balanced on his arms, then moved his hips, adopting a languid rhythm.

Her eyes closed, and her head tilted back, her nails gouging tiny half-moons into his arms. Pleas fell from her mouth, growing louder as he dragged his lips across her throat, nipping at the underside of her jaw, then sliding down her collarbone to her breast. When his tongue circled the bud, teasing it, she cried out, drawing blood as she dug her nails into his shoulders.

Peeling her hands from his arms, his fingers weaved with hers and lifted her arms above her head, restraining them against the bed as he increased his tempo, his breath coming in short gasps.

She moaned, and the heavenly sound wrapped around him and encouraged his frantic pace. He drove deeper, needing to coax his name from her lips, and she responded, the volume of her voice increasing with each plunge of his intimate assault.

Bang!

He froze mid-thrust, his eyes widening, indicating she should remain quiet.

Bang!The sound came a second time.

“Who’s there?” Cedric growled, twisting his head toward the locked door.

“Evans,” came the muffled reply.

“Wait there.”

What had Evans heard?

Cedric eased back, pressing a noiseless kiss to Alana’s lips, and climbed from the bed. Hiding her nude body with the blanket, he tucked her red hair beneath the coverlet, then retrieved his trousers from the floor, his body protesting the interruption.

Dragging his pants up his legs, he stalked across the room, paused on the opposite side of the door to fasten them, then unlocked the door and cracked it open, peering around the edge with narrowed eyes.

“What’s the emergency?” he growled, adding every shred of the frustration he felt to his tone.

“No emergency, Captain.” There was an audible gulp in Mr. Evans’ reply.

“Why are you disturbing me?”