Page 54 of Bloody Black

“William is absolutely ruthless, if anything, he is even worse lately. He’ll kill you and everyone left on this boat, just to prove the point. You can’t win. ”

That cuts deeper than I expect. He doesn’t have faith in me. I twist in his hold, but he’s already loosening it, already shifting on his heels.

“Why let William take more of your life than he already has? Why not move on?”

“Because I cannot forgive!” I rise, facing him. “He lured me and tricked me. He married me! He consummated our vows by forcing himself on me, without any love whatsoever, and took my virginity! As if that was not enough, he murdered my father, my maids, then gave me to his soldiers to be raped.”

My voice shakes. “I suppose he could have done worse. He could have stayed married to me, pretending for years. He could have poisoned me. Perhaps in your opinion, I should be grateful for his efficiency.”

The silence crackles. My heart is a drumbeat of panic and rage. “You prefer him? Good King William?”

“Of course not! I want someone sane on the throne. I want the wars to end.”

“Then what? You think I should forgive?”

“No one would ask that of you. Especially not me.” Robb grips me by both shoulders. Presses his forehead to mine. “I’ve been watching, but I’m worried. What if you don’t beat him?”

My throat tightens. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

Except he is, because he’s been living here. He’s seen me fight; could he be right? That despite all this, I’m still not enough?

“Before you put on your armor and tell me I’m an insufferable bastard, listen to what I’m saying. You have something to lose, and what scares me is that you’ll only realize it after you’ve sacrificed us all.” Robb brushes my hair back from my face. He takes a shaky breath.

I’m not sure whether I want to slap him. Or kiss him. Or cry. A week ago, I would have never let him touch me like this. A week ago, I wouldn’t have been in bed with him.

“Robb. I can’t. He… what he did…” I try to pull away, but he holds fast, clinging like a burr.

“I’m not trying to stop you. I’m trying to save you.”

Maybe I don’t deserve to be saved. Shaking my head, I turn my face toward the windows.

“You’re even better than I dreamed,” he says quietly, almost to himself. His thumb strokes my bare skin, feather-light. “Don’t make me lose you. Not when I’ve barely had the chance to have you.”

I swallow hard, unsure what to do with the way my chest aches.

“You asked who I really am, so here’s the truth: I’m a man who waited too long. And spoke up too late. I refuse to make the same mistake with you again.”

My breath catches as his hands slide upward to cup my jaw, turning my face so I can’t look away.

“You’ve gutted me. Not with a blade, but with your eyes. Every time you look at me, I feel undone. You make me want things I stopped believing in a long time ago. Peace. Home. A future.”

His calloused fingers touch the bargains around my neck.

“I’m no scholar, so I don’t know what these marks mean.

But what I do know is that if you asked me to burn my ship to the waterline, I would.

If you told me to wait, I would. If you drowned me in the sea, I’d bless the tide that brought me to your arms. ”

His green eyes meet mine, steady and measured. “I would break every oath. Cross every ocean. Kill and steal and lie. Just to have a place at your side.”

His gaze is memorizing, not claiming. The expression on his face is tender and reverent. As if I’m not just a strange woman in his bed, but something priceless.

“How?” I whisper. “How can you say that to me?” My lips are trembling, and I have to keep biting them.

“Because I don’t want your ship. I don’t want your throne. I don’t want to capture you. I want to belong to you.” He brushes his thumbs over my cheekbones. “I want you to belong to me. Permanently.”

Everything about him shocks me. Shakes me. And maybe I’m not as broken as I thought, because, at this moment, it does seem possible. That I might love again. Hell, that I might live again.

On impulse, I lean in and kiss him. Reveling in his warmth, absorbing his words.

His heart calls to mine, a safe harbor in the midst of storms. Even though I know it’s impossible, I want to stay and turn my back on all of it.

Because as numb and dead as I am, Robb Maynard means something to me. My lover, and also my friend.

“Sleeping with you was such a terrible idea,” I sniffle.

Robb chuckles, then gives a contented sigh. Kisses my nose as if soothing my ruffled feathers. “Don’t turn coward on me now, pirate.”

I want to believe him. Teach is loyal. There are men who are good in the world, even though so many are bad. But… he’s still Wi lliam’s man. “How do I know that the moment I turn my back, you won’t put a knife in it?”

His gaze flicks down to the dagger lying in the sheets next to us. “Give me the chance to kill you and see what happens.”

“That’s crazy.”

“It is.” He rolls his shoulders in a small shrug. “But you’re either brave enough to trust someone, or you aren’t. Courage can’t be based on outcome.”

His eyes are so much like the sea. The sea, which has always been kind to me. It’s the place where I am brave; where I am strong and free. With my eyes glued to his, I pick up the knife and extend it toward him. Once he grasps it, I turn away. Trembling, I grip the headboard for strength.

This is his golden opportunity. I’ve handed him my doom, and I won’t look, no matter what it costs. Is it because I have courage? Or because I’m a fool? Is it because I want to trust him? Or because I already do?

Robb’s touch is light as he runs his fingers over the curve of my spine.

My entire body shudders in response, anticipating pain. My eyes squeeze shut. Any second now, the dagger will come down. Drive between my bones. I’ll survive it—after all, I’m already dead—but I’ll never recover emotionally.

The bed dips as he moves closer.

He brushes aside my hair. He traces his nose up to my ear, then sucks gently on my earlobe.

I squirm. “ Robb.”

“If you’re going to say my name, you’ll have to do better than that,” he murmurs.

He nuzzles my ear again. “I like this. All of your lines.” He trails one hand up from my hip, across the underside of my breast, to the dusky peak of one nipple.

His fingers pluck and pinch, and I shiver. “If I just follow this curve like a map…”

Where did he put that knife?

Swallowing hard, my heart racing, I’m trying not to hyperventilate. “You’re comparing me to old paper?”

“Seems that I am.” While he’s pinching my nipple with one hand, his other palm rests on my mound, on the dark hair covering me. “What do you think, Blackbeard? Any treasure here?”

Robb circles my entrance. Soft. Exploring.

A long, shaky exhale rips from my throat.

“Perhaps something deeper?”

“Oh, gods!” I reply, my face hot, thankful I’m facing the headboard.

“I can’t decide which I love more. That moan, or…” he inhales deeply. “Your mouth. Bend forward a little, sweetheart.”

The explicit way he talks to me makes me feel like I’m on fire. Delirious, my forehead falls against the headboard, my eyes drifting closed.

“Some think you’re salty. Only I know that you’re sweet underneath.”

His voice is smoke and honey, like spiced rum on a balmy night. A moment later, the crown of his cock is pressing against my opening, and he enters me in one slow, deep stroke that has me clutching the wooden spindles.

Cupping my breasts, Robb pulls me upright, back resting against his chest. “See? Not too terrible.”

I tilt my head and arch my neck, meeting his mouth with mine. There’s nothing gentle about it. Just hunger, raw and demanding, the sexual tension between us exploding like cannon fire. Deep and erotic, tongues and teeth.

At my belly, our fingers thread together. Then he tugs mine down, to the place between my thighs, to where we’re joined.

“Feel this?” His cock is soaked. So wet, every stroke is frictionless. “You and me.”

I tremble in his arms and nod.

“It’s good,” I admit. “It’s perfect.”

Perfect, because I’m in his arms, and it feels like I’m right where I’m supposed to be. We are perfectly suited, evenly matched. My body has chosen him. My heart has chosen him, even if my mind is still catching up.

His palms cradle my breasts, thumbing them, tucking me close. Kissing my shoulder.

I’ve done this before, had a man take me from behind… At the dock. Please, please, please don’t think about the dock. I tremble with the force of trying to keep myself from remembering.

Robb stills. “You’re safe with me. Say it.”

“I’m safe with you.”

“Again.”

I close my eyes and exhale. “I’m safe with you.” The words wash over me .

He shifts. “You trust me with this?” he asks, and I feel the cold chill of steel against my chest. He has the dagger in hand, its tip right at my heart.

It’s a leap of faith. “Maybe.”

“Good enough. You’re my girl, Annie. I found you. And as you know, pirate code is finders keepers.”

I huff out a small laugh, and it’s a good thing I do, because otherwise I might start crying again. And that would be embarrassing.

Robb tosses the knife aside, taking my mouth again. Slowly, he rotates his hips, and I relish the thickness inside of me. When his fingers rub right there—

Oh, gods. I’m going to come again already.

I move faster, rocking my pelvis at just the right rhythm, meeting him.

Sensation spirals upward through me, strengthening, white and gleaming as sunlight on the sea. The orgasm ripples through me in currents, claiming my body. Through it all, his arms are around me, his mouth at my ear. Murmuring words of praise.

Afterward my body hums, warm and weightless, as if I’ve been unstitched and put back together. The ache between my thighs is sweet, not sharp. Different. I feel used, but not in the way I feared.

“That was…” words fail to describe it, and I can’t really think straight. “Is it always like that?”

“Not at all. That’s just a you and me thing.” Robb pulls out of me, then cuddles me against his chest. It’s such a simple thing. I’ve been with six men, and I’ve never been held by anyone but him.

“You okay?” he says against my temple .

“Amazing.” I’ve given Robb control, even if it ruins whatever is left of me. Instead of panic, a deep, abiding peace settles into my bones. A sureness unlike any that I have ever known.

We lie there silent for several minutes, Robb with one hand in my hair, massaging my scalp, threading through the strands with his fingers.

“Were you always this way?” I ask. “So good? So sweet?”

He chuckles, then sighs with contentment. “I’m delighted you would think that, but no, actually. As a youth, I was mostly angry. Angry, about everything. Even before my family was killed, I was angry.”

I know that he means before, when he was in Rivelle. Before he joined the Celestian army. But he doesn’t say that, and I don’t pry. If he wanted to tell me about meeting William, about their friendship, he would.

“What happened? What changed?”

“I met somebody.” His fingers continue untangling.

“A woman?” I can’t help sounding crabby. I don’t like to imagine him ever touching anyone, including Holly.

“Ha. Your jealousy is so endearing. I would love to say yes, just to see what would happen, but no. It was a man, and he was the father I’d never had.

Teaching, training me… giving me perspective.

It was the first time I’d ever considered any emotion other than fury, or had someone truly believe in me, and I suppose what changed me was wanting to be worthy. And to not let him down.”

“Do you still see him?”

“Fairly regularly, yes.”

“I’ll meet him one day?”

“Absolutely.” Robb traces figure eights across my back. “Speaking of which, do you want me to stay? Or shall I sneak past our crew?”

Accidentally, I say what I’m really thinking. “Don’t leave me.”

Robb smiles, his eyes brightening, crinkling at the corners. “Ahhh, now the lady sings a different tune. To think that all it took was me having sex with you.”

Playfully, I swat him on the chest. Then I study him. At the straight, bold line etched over his heart. It is the only one that isn’t standard sailor fare.

“What’s that tattoo mean?” I ask. “This one here.”

“Ah. You’ll like that one.” He puts his arms behind his head. “My mentor always said one half of a man is dark. The other half is light. And where wars are won or lost is right here. That small space in the middle.”

Silently, I trace the line over his heart with a fingertip. Here is something besides pain. Here is my small slice of happiness. Right here, in the bold line that measures the width of his heart.