FicWad

CHAPTER NINE

I slept little and fitfully, all the while listening for him in the next room. By sunrise I stood at the window, brushing my hair, watching the sun spread peach and pink over the dark ocean beyond the trees. My mind would not keep still long enough for me to assess and plot. Point of fact, I could scarcely string two ideas together without feeling his fingers inside my body, or tasting his skin.

Finally, I did my best to wriggle and yank myself into my undergarments and corset, then I pulled on a yellow blouse and skirt, grabbed my sandals and went to check the door.

Sometime in the night he had unlocked it.

I crept downstairs and into the dining room. Quiet as a church mouse, I opened a door, slipped out and shut it behind me. I laced on the sandals and went over the courtyard wall as I had before. I ran over the manicured lawn, and panted from my restricted breathing by the time I reached the path to Walks Softly’s home. Hours remained before he would come for our ride. I needed to talk, even if not about last night, so I hoped he wouldn’t mind the unannounced visit.

The walk did clear my head some. I found myself hurrying toward his home, eager for its comfort. On the front step, I paused, hearing a low noise. The door stood partially open to the morning breeze. Alert for reasons I could not name, I put the tips of my fingers to the portal and pushed it wide.

Words could not have conveyed my shock. Amid the thick furs and white sheets, Walks Softly wrestled with another man. A stranger, as sun-darkened as the indian was swarthy, naked upper body lean and muscular, ebony hair loose and wavy. Walks Softly’s hair hung in a smooth braid over his bare shoulder. Before, his unclothed torso caused me no undue consideration. Seeing his chest pressed to another man’s rendered me to stunned paralysis.

Lost in each other, they tussled for dominance. Walks Softly bit the other man’s arm, at the apex of that large front muscle, drawing a throaty groan from the recipient. I stared, spellbound as the indian flipped the other man onto his back. All pretense of resistance vanished. Their mouths collided and a deep growl rumbled from them almost as one.

I blinked, realizing how handsome Walks Softly was, how masculine, seeing him for the first time as a sensual being. Shamelessly I intruded upon their intimacy, studying the way male muscle moved against male muscle. Equal in power and form, it seemed oddly natural they attract each other.

Walks Softly braced his weight on one bent elbow, delved his free hand into the dark man’s hair, then curled his fingers just so, and lightly raked his short nails down the arching throat and bare chest. The stranger’s back bowed up a bit. I felt the curious sensation just whisper in my belly; a pale echo of what the captain pulled from me. Still, I must have made a sound. The unknown man turned his head and looked at me.

Eyes a clear, startling amber met mine. His hands went to Walks Softly’s face, caught his jaw. “Nous avons la compagnie, mon amour.”

Spell broken, I bolted, running blindly up the beach. My thighs ached from the effort of propelling me in the deep sand.

From behind, I heard Walks Softly call, “Lili!”

I felt somehow betrayed, and could not think why. The run winded me rapidly, constricted as I was. It forced me to halt or else succumb. A few moments later I heard soft footfalls in the sand. Walks Softly put a hand upon my shoulder, turning me to face him. I did not know what to expect. But I could not meet his gaze.

“Lili?”

I shut my eyes, threatened by the sting of tears. After several long moments, I spoke past the tightness of my throat. “Well now do I understand why I was so safe with you.” I looked at him, feeling fierce and angry. “Your captain knows. He must to trust you so implicitly.”

“Come back.” He took my hand. “We will talk. I will cook for you.”

“You already have a guest.” My gaze moved over him. He’d yanked on a pair of breeches I rather doubted belonged to him, buttoned only enough to preserve modesty. “He will be missing you.”

Walks Softly smiled. “Yes. But he wishes more to meet the white woman I admire.”

I sniffed. Attempting to delve into his fathomless black eyes, I said, “Are you my friend? Can I trust you given your divided loyalties?”

He surprised me all over again by pulling me against his chest. His familiar smell mingled with a new sharper scent and a hint of expensive imported musk. “I will protect you, Lili. If your intended, the Englishman, Major Huntington, comes and by some twist in the Great Father’s plan, takes you back to England or the Colonies, I will come for you. I will not let you remain among people who will punish you.”

I clung to him, relieved and feeling almost reborn. “Swear it.”

His lips pressed my hair. “I swear it.”

For several moments I endured sudden growing pains. I recognized how selfishly I felt about Walks Softly. As the first person ever to treat me as an equal, I coveted him jealously. Logic dictated this did not make him mine alone. Curiosity made me pull from his embrace, whisper, “Your lover. Who is he?”

“A man of the same profession as I,” he offered. “A Frenchman I met over a year ago.”

“It’s serious?” Seeing them together, I felt certain I knew the answer.

“Yes.”

I combed my loose hair back from my face with my fingers, swiped the ebbing tears away with my knuckles. “Then introduce us.”

I let him lead me back toward his house. The tall rather magnificent Frenchman stood outside, somewhat respectably garbed in tan breeches and a white shirt left loose to billow in the morning sea breeze. His gaze moved over Walks Softly, then settled on me. “Bonjour, Lili.” He extended a lean, tanned hand. “I am Etienne.”

I took his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Etienne.“

He lifted it to his lips, brushed a courtly kiss over my knuckles. “Enchanté.”

Walks Softly said to me, “I will teach you how to make fried fish.”

I recovered my pluck, glanced from one to the other. “And shrimp.”

They exchanged glances. Walks Softly smiled. “I told him you eat like a soldier.”

I had to laugh. “Then feed me.”

Despite our awkward first meeting, I became besotted with Etienne in short order. He spoke English with more flare than any native, sprinkled it with French, and once in a while, Algonquin. Recalling Walks Softly addressing the stable boys in French, I recognized a deep commitment. One did not learn a new language on a whim.

Etienne braided my hair for me, admired my skin and nails and white teeth more than any woman would ever have felt free enough to because I was no competition. At once I enjoyed that same ease I treasured with Walks Softly. We all sat where I had seen them rolling about, ate fish and shrimp Walks Softly took from a sea chest lined with oilskin and stocked with a chunk of ice, and then taught me to fry in dry crumbled bread and seasoned flour. Etienne baked the most wonderful honey-sweetened cornbread in a skillet surrounded by red coals.

We drank tea and I questioned Etienne about his travels and his ship, one of the two smaller I had seen in the harbor. Called the Cleopatra, she often sailed with the Blood Vengeance.

Hearing the ship’s name brought its captain looming in my mind. Before I could stop myself, I blurted, “He came to me last night.”

Walks Softly went very still. Of course, he knew in detail the conditions of my exchange and therefore found stronger cause to react. “What happened?”

Honesty prevailed. “He decided to make certain I remained intact. So he put his fingers in a place I didn’t know I had. I bit his neck like a snapping turtle. He had his answer and he left.”

Etienne burst into laughter, almost falling sideways onto the furs.

Walks Softly made ‘indian eyes’ at me. “He had no provocation or reason to doubt?”

I sighed a bit. “That last day we saw him on the beach, I told him he’d based his word on an uncertainty, and let him believe I might be a soiled dove to devil him.”

Etienne crowed. Walks Softly scowled, “Lili, that was-”

The Frenchman sobered, cut off the rest, “Don’t you dare scold her, mon bon sauvage. He deserved to wallow in doubt.”

“Did he hurt you?” My friend asked this very quietly, tone heavy nonetheless.

“It might have proved a bit simpler if he had," I confessed. “Something odd happened.”

Etienne actually leaned forward. “Do tell.”

I lowered my voice, though I doubted another soul was within a half mile. “Wetness came from inside me. I know not, is that … normal?”

Walks Softly’s expression did not change. “If you feel pleasure.”

“To be frank, “ I returned, thrilled to have confidants, “I couldn’t put a name to it. I was frightened because I’d no idea what to expect, and angry he would hold me down like that. But afterward, for hours, I felt this restlessness in my body.”

“Understandable,” Etienne agreed. “Don’t give any thought to the horse shite shoveled by religion and ‘proper society’. It’s natural, Lili. You are young and healthy, enjoy your body without shame.”

“After standing there watching the two of you, I begin to wonder if I have any.”

Etienne reached over to clasp Walks Softly’s thigh and give him a playful shake. “Keep close eye on me, mon amour. She is a treasure. I might steal her away. Make her my protégé.”

“She needs no lessons in audacity from you. My hair will turn white as a warrior of three score winters before this is done.”

I laughed with Etienne, relieved to have more knowledge, to have someone who cared enough to listen.

Time past swiftly. The sun reigned high when we heard muffled horses hooves. Etienne and I were walking along the beach, having just come out for a lesson in tides and shells. I stood straight, still holding what my new friend called a conch, shielded my eyes and saw the captain galloping a huge dapple gray horse toward us.

He reined the animal, a stallion of Spanish decent it seemed, to a sliding halt, rather leaping off before the sand ceased to spray. Glad to stand beyond the plume of wet grittiness, I waited.

Not long.

The steed sidestepped nervously, tossing his head. El Pantera came forward in a manner that made Etienne step closer.

“You told no one where you went,” the captain said, clearly in accusation. Those twin, large bore pistols hung in loops on his belt. He wore his hair loose down his back, the small braid he often sported fell over his shoulder.

“No one was awake.”

The captain’s gaze shifted briefly, in the barest of civil greetings, he said, “Etienne.” I took that moment to observe his throat. A distinct bruise colored the tanned flesh. Good.

“Monsieur.”

“Lady Rothington and I require a moment’s privacy.”

Etienne looked to me first, and I adored him for it. I nodded. He touched my arm, melted away. Almost immediately, Walks Softly appeared at my side. A rapid-fire discourse in Algonquin ended with my friend saying to the captain in English, “Remember you are a gentleman.”

I wanted to cheer. Instead, I kept my expression cool, serene.

“Lady Rothington-”

“Lili, “I corrected. “Please, just ‘Lili’.”

A muscle rippled along his jaw. “Very well. Lili, would you do me the courtesy of taking a ride with me.”

I could tell he expected opposition given what passed between us last night. “Of course. Allow me a moment.”

He inclined his head. I hurried to where Walks Softly and Etienne rather hovered inside the house, arguing softly in French. They turned at my approach.

“I’m going for a ride with the captain.”

“Lili, please,” Walks Softly began, “take care.”

“I will. Thank you for breakfast. Etienne, so good meeting you. Don’t stand here fretting,” I said, “finish what I interrupted.”

The Frenchman kissed my cheek, chuckled. “A treasure, I vow. I may risk El Pantera’s pistols yet.”

I handed the conch shell to Walks Softly, then bent to retrieve my discarded sandals. “Please do not worry. He is your friend, too. You must know he will not genuinely harm me.”

“I worry you will harm each other in equal measure.”

Etienne slid his arm around the indian. “I will take your mind from it, mon amour.”

I had to smile, because I’d no doubt he would. As I walked across the heating sand, I marveled at the twists my life had taken, and at the reality life had truly begun for me when a pirate snatched me for his prize.

The captain waited, polite, though impatient if the simmer of heat in his eyes bore testimony. He swung astride, pulled his foot from the mounting iron and held his hand down for me. I switched my sandals to the other hand, slid my bare foot into the stirrup, clasped his wrist and he hauled me astride. I shifted behind him, wrapped one arm around his hard middle.

He took the sandals from my hand, tied the long straps in a loop knot and buckled them with the coiled whip on the front of the saddle. I hadn’t seen an English saddle with that feature. No doubt he’d had it made.

“You should be wearing boots,” he commented.

He brought out the wicked in me. “Will you lash me for the offense?’

He reached back, brought my other arm around him. “Not this time, but I may yet.”

The captain sent the stallion flying over the sand, then turned him up a narrow path. I closed my eyes, savored the sensation of wind and speed. We descended again toward the beach to a small whitewashed cottage. I did not question him as he steered the horse into a small corral. Trees shaded most of it. I did not wait for him, but dismounted on my own. He hopped off, ran up the stirrups and removed the horse’s bridle to hang upon a post.

I walked out ahead of him. Behind me, I heard him sliding rails across the opening. I wondered who lived in the quaint little house. Everything looked neat as a pin. Clusters of bright pink-flowered bushes skirted its foundation. The captain walked ahead of me to a small back porch. He opened the door.

“Shouldn’t we knock?”

“Why?”

A flicker of alarm touched me. I considered refusing to go inside, realizing the place unoccupied. Then again, what could he do in there he was not free to out here?

I entered the coolness of the cottage. The captain closed the door behind us.

I wandered freely. It possessed a small parlor with an even smaller adjoining dining room. Behind that, a tiny kitchen. A narrow staircase led upward from the parlor. Simple whitewashed wooden furniture furnished the place. Sheer Belgian lace curtains hung from above the large Austrian style windows.

I gazed out the front parlor window. The ocean came ashore in large whitecaps. The wooden floor creaked and I turned. He stood in the room’s center, a tall black-garbed figure to strike fear in the stoutest heart.

“What did you need to speak to me about, captain?”

“It’s a dangerous game you play with me, Lili.”

Heavens above, did I ever know this. “What is it you do with my life, captain, if not play games?”

“What I do is in deadly earnest.”

“As am I.” I meant it. I would seize whatever means to gain some control. I also grew more certain of the pleasure I stood to experience.

“You have no idea what you’re doing.” He said this with the sort of autocratic disdain the world clearly reserved for the female gender.

It went under my skin, drawing out the daredevil in me. “Don’t I, James?” I savored the flare of astonishment in his eyes.

He quickly conquered it. “I suppose I will have to begin keeping your door locked at all times.”

“I suppose I will learn to pick locks.”

He took a step toward me, halted, spoke again, low, ominous. “Do not bait me, Lili.”

I walked over to a small settee, sat upon it, arranging my skirt so it lifted to show my feet and ankles. “I begin to see a pattern. Distraction, then intimidation.” I flipped my braid over my shoulder, letting it fall forward, the end curling in my lap. “You’ll have to do better. Perhaps now the lash?”

He closed the distance in two strides, grabbed my wrist and hauled me up against him. Dark, decadent longing bloomed in my belly and spread.

With leashed anger he demanded, “Have you any idea what I could do to you and yet leave both that bit of skin and my vow intact?”

I stared up into his savagely beautiful face and whispered, “Show me.”

His eyes narrowed, cheekbones seeming to sharpen. “There’s more than one way to rape a woman. I could hurt you, have my pleasure, leave you bleeding and still virgin.”

I didn’t try to loosen his painful grip on my wrists. Instead leaned my body into his, pressing my belly against the hardness I‘d felt last night. “You wouldn’t.”

He looked positively diabolical as he lowered his head, breathing me in, then asked, “How can you know?”

“Because if you had it in you to, you’d do and not threaten.”

He released me. I staggered back a step, continuing to meet his gaze.

“You clever bitch,” he murmured silkily. For some reason it frightened me far more than the threat of sexual violence.

Nonetheless, I replied, “See you remember it.”

His gaze dropped to my lips. “That mouth is going to get you into trouble.”

Almost dizzy with daring and excitement, I retorted, “Don’t you mean my mouth is going to get you into trouble?”

He looked incensed enough to rip the settee in half. A primitive feminine instinct goaded me, guided me. I stepped back up to him, reached up to where his shirt laced and slid my fingers underneath. His skin was almost hot, smooth. “Put your hands on me, “ I tempted, “unleash that anger.”

Just the barest tremor passed through him.

I raked him with my nails and unleashed mayhem.

CHAPTER TEN

One of his hands slid into my hair, anchoring me I realized, as his lips slanted down upon mine. I felt his other hand flatten at the base of my back and snug me to him. I closed my eyes, rather lost to the forceful sensations coursing through me. His hand left my back, came to hold my chin. His tongue touched my lips. This quite shocked me. Then his thumb pressed into the corner of my mouth. I opened, distantly resentful of the horseman’s trick to force a bit. The silky strength of his tongue followed.

He tasted of masculine hunger and something surprisingly sweet. I felt about in the dark, as it were. Eyes closed, my hands roamed over the landscape of his body. Muscle bunched and flattened under my hands. It sharpened the sensory experience, making me aware of the difference in our bodies, and of what I had yet to learn.

He made a feral sound of male pleasure and released my chin. His hand moved down my throat, over my collarbone. I knew my corset and shift would shield me from his touch. Still, having his hand over my breast made me feel quite wonton. I knew not where this would lead. I welcomed it all the same.

Against my mouth, he murmured, “Is this what you seek?” He nipped my upper lip, traced the inside with his tongue. “Ravishment? I could fuck you any number of ways.”

“Yes.”

I cried out as he shoved me backward, and I clung. Would he relent and truly take me? Did he seek to intimidate?

That bold hand rucked up my skirt. I pressed more firmly to his big body. “Show me the pleasures denied my gender.”

He released me at once, set me from him. “Temptress.”

I gazed at him, so gloriously beautiful and big as day. “Yes.” Civilization had fallen far behind me.

He turned and strode from the cottage.

I quivered all over. Yet, I smiled.

#

That night as Eza helped me undress, I noticed her skin’s softness. “What cream do you use? I would try this.”

She blushed under her dark skin. “It is the depilatory I use.”

Captivated, I pressed, “To remove hair?”

“Yes, miss.”

Wickedness flooded me. “Bring this to my bath.”

I plied the cream over my underarms, legs and Venus mound. It smelled pleasantly of almonds. After a space of time, Eza applied a silver scraper to my slathered skin. It left a tingle in its wake. She blushed at the juncture of my thighs, averted her face.

“Miss, I could not.”

I plucked the tool from her grasp. “I can.” The hair fell away leaving smoothness. Rinsing, I had the yet-shocked Eza pat my body dry. Then I smoothed on the rose-scented oil mixed with coconut oil lotion. My entire body seemed one united receptor of sensation.

Wickedly, I donned a shorter nightrail. It had appeared since this morning, and I suspected Etienne. The bedclothes caressed my denuded flesh. I felt that wetness start inside me.

“That will be all, Eza.”

I climbed into the lavender-scented bed. She retreated, closing the door behind. I lay upon my back. Increasingly familiar night sounds drifted in upon the redolent breeze. Curiosity prompted me to touch my breasts. The nipples reacted, although without the rush of pleasure. I reached lower, under the scandalous nightrail. Wet, hot petals met my inquisitive fingers. Exploring, I soon discovered the almost-too-sensitive nub that seemed to control much of my sensation.

I played with it, rubbing lightly, circling as the pleasure intensified. My hips reached up to my touch. I stifled my cries, biting my lower lip and recalling how the captain had tasted. A white-hot bolt of attainment struck my pelvis.

Now I understood my sexuality.

Forewarned is forearmed.


CHAPTER ELEVEN

I fairly hopped from bed the following morning. Something told me Walks Softly would come to fetch me to breakfast with he and his charming lover. By the time I’d gotten Eza to help me dress, and descended the stairs, he stood inside the foyer.

“Good morning!” I greeted brightly.

He opened the door for me and we stepped out into a damply hot, sunny morning. He did not speak until we were well along the path to his home. “What happened with you and the captain yesterday?”

“Nothing really. I taunted him into kissing me. It went no farther.” The air felt heavy with the smell of the ocean today. I breathed deep. “Why?”

“His temper boiled all day.”

“How lovely.” I rather liked flirting with that leashed violence.

“Not for the rest of us,” Walks Softly replied.

“If you or Etienne suffered, I am sorry. Al though, it will not stop me from tormenting him whenever the chance arises.” I plucked a pale yellow bloom from a flowering tree as we passed, lifted it to my nose. It smelled sweet and vaguely spicy. “As for anyone else, they may go to the Devil.”

I smelled our fare before even we reached the door. Sweet cornbread, cream, fresh fruit and sausage. Inside I greeted Etienne as an old friend.

He hugged me tight, kissed both cheeks. “You smell like Heaven. And you glow this morning.”

I smiled, removed my sandals, savoring my wickedly delicious secret a bit longer. “I starve. Feed me.”

We dined on spicy sausage stewed in cream, cornbread, fresh melon and strawberries. Etienne entertained me with tales of the French court. He enjoyed an unsteady, if interesting celebrity there as a successful and elusive harasser of the British Navy.

After we finished, Walks Softly made tea.

Compelled, I confessed my intentions to my friends. “I intend to seduce the captain, use his lust to my advantage.”

Etienne gave a masculine bark of laughter, “Brava, Lili!”

Walks Softly emitted a sound of displeasure. His lover continued. “You think El Pantera in need of warning, mon amour? There’s no plot to harm. No intent of violence. Your honor does not demand you advise him.”

“He knows,” I said. “I spoke plainly yesterday.”

Walks Softly brought our tea in serviceable metal cups. He took his standing in the open doorway.

Etienne leaned forward, “Our indian cannot associate himself with us as we conspire.”

I smiled. “Truly, I invited the captain’s lust. He will have no surprise.”

Etienne became more serious. “What of contraception?”

“What?”

“How will you prevent a baby?”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.” Concern deflated me somewhat.

“Walks Softly knows how to dose you with herbs. But if I am not mistaken, it requires a week of taking the concoction to provide any guarantee.” He sipped his tea. I tried the same, found it too hot. He switched our cups, giving me the cooler brew. “Most likely the captain practices the civilized custom of timely withdraw. But a lady should never rely upon it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“When a man becomes too aroused to accept further stimulation, he will climax.”

I lowered my voice. “Is that what is called ‘the little death‘? I discovered it for my self last night.”

He took my free hand, squeezed, “Brava, again, mon tressor. Education, especially about oneself, is never wasted. With a man, his seed is released.”

“What does it look like?”

“A bit like cream.” He smiled as our mutual friend grunted and took himself out of doors. “Shall we drink our tea on the beach?”

“Yes, let’s.”

Walks Softly was walking into the jungle down a narrow unfamiliar path. Etienne nodded toward him. “I suspect he goes to gather what you need.”

It struck me as quite luxurious to stroll by the sea sipping tea. For a few moments, I enjoyed the warm surf flirting with my ankles. Then, I asked, “Can you tell me what he will desire?”

“Every man is different, Lili. But I can tell you with confidence a few things. He will want to touch your breasts, put his mouth upon them. Especially the nipples.”

Shocked, intrigued, I whispered, “Truly?”

“Oh yes. He’ll put his fingers inside your body again, mayhaps his tongue,” his words made me flush and feel over-warm, “then his manhood.”

“Will it hurt?”

“Yes, but each woman experiences a different pain. I have heard some consider it a sort of brief ’pop’. Others, something terrible. I believe much has to do with the man. The captain will be considerate.”

“Even provoked?”

“I think so, Lili.”

I tried to muster some cautioning fear, though could not. “I appreciate your honesty.”

“Only the first time, cher.” He seemed to wish my courage not fail. “After that, it will only get better for you.”

“I’m a little unnerved, having never seen a male naked.”

Etienne chuckled. “Do want a friendly preview, Lili, you have only to ask.”

“You’d do that for me?” I found the offer at once sweet and outrageous.

“Of course.”

I gave it a moment’s consideration. “I think not. The purity of the discovery is already compromised by my experimentations. That alone I will save for the event.”

“There’s the spirit,” he praised, “make use of his lust if you can. But have your pleasure.”

We resumed our lesson from the previous morning, and when we returned, the captain’s big gray stallion stood tethered in the shade beside the dwelling. My heart skipped ahead several beats before I recovered my aplomb.

He stepped out onto the porch, dressed in Hessians over tan breeches like a gentleman. The belt bristling with pistols and a short dagger, wide-sleeved white shirt, braided hair and winking gold hoop shattered the civilized image. His exotic coloring struck me anew. What quirk of heredity bred gold skin and hair, with near black eyelashes, brows and beard?

“Good morning, captain,” I greeted, ladylike for the present.

Etienne knew no restraint. “Can’t recall ever bumping into you so much on previous visits, captain.”

“Is Walks Softly at the harbor?” Something in his tone made me think he didn’t care to have me left alone with the Frenchman.

“He’s around somewhere,” Etienne replied. “He was kind enough to give me time with your enchanting guest.”

The captain’s word emerged silky and soft. “We both know she isn’t precisely ‘my guest‘.”

“All the same,” the Frenchman persisted, displaying that courtier’s charm, “she should be accorded the privileges of one. As her stay with you is none of her own design or desire.”

I feared Etienne had gone too far. “Which,” the captain’s jaw tightened, “her freedom to breakfast with you and Walks Softly amply demonstrates.”

Etienne inclined his dark head. “Mayhaps if you’ve nothing pressing, it would be a perfect time to show your,” just the slightest pause, “guest, the falls. A swim would surely banish her discomfort in this tropical heat.”

Reaction sparked along my nerves as the captain’s blue-green gaze captured mine. “It does not appear she suffers.”

“I’ve never had the opportunity to swim,” I put in delicately.

“’Tis settled,” Etienne pronounced. “The good captain will take you to the falls.”

The captain’s lips lifted at one corner, the effect devastating. “Do you expect I will allow myself to be maneuvered?”

Etienne laughed, reached over to take my empty cup. “Not really, but I gave my best effort. Good day to you both.”

He went inside. Left alone with the object of my seduction, I said, “I would love to swim. Will you take me?”

He stepped closer, gazing down at me. “Will you ply your temptress’ wiles?”

“Yes.”

“Then I must trust my ability to resist.” He glanced downward. “Barefoot again.”

“I shall be fine.” Thrills of adventure raced through my body. I hurried ahead of him, untied the stallion and put the reins over his head. With a few soothing words, I gathered reins and swung astride. Colored spot danced before me. Infernal cage, the corset.

I adjusted my seat, noting the familiar black whip and a coil of rope hanging from the saddle’s utility loop. The captain mounted behind me. I allowed him to take the reins and enjoyed the ride.

We traveled beyond the cottage and cut through a patch of jungle where the overhead canopy of trees blotted out the sun so thoroughly, the ground hosted only a mulch of decaying leaves. The steed’s muffled hoof-falls made little sound. I leaned back against the captain, conscious of his solid presence. I fantasized about his kissing me, holding me, all the while recalling the peak my body could reach.

Languorous with arousal, I experienced the journey. The scents of old jungle hung heavily, mingling with the captain’s sharp, male sexuality and ambergris aroma. Leather from the tack, the equine scent rising from the stallion came to me.

I smiled to myself. The captain had done me a great service in snatching me from the jaws of sterile, controlled, voiceless existence. As he turned the horse, ascending a narrow, well-worn path, I asked, “When did you learn Walks Softly preferred men?”

Though I heard nothing, I felt a rumble in his chest. “You are a shameless baggage.”

“That does not answer my question.”

“He came to live with my family when we were young. Before my other brother was born.”

Henry. I recalled what I had overheard. “Even in the colonies, a white family adopting a native surely sparked scandal.”

He encouraged the horse to weave to and fro, thus decreasing the incline of the climb. I admired his consideration. “My family gave no heed.”

“When did you learn his preference?” I heard a roaring. The falls?

“The day I stepped between him and a loaded musket,” the captain revealed, his words colored with irritation and some strange cousin to amusement. “A jealous wife took strong insult with her husband’s choice of lover.”

“How did you happen to be there?”

“He was late to supper. I went to fetch him.”

Titillated I fairly gasped, “You saw him in bed with the other man?”

“I vow, you are the most shameless chit ever created. Yes, I saw them!”

I fell silent, enjoying the process of letting the knowledge sink into me. Not to mention the delight of having drawn hoarded information from the captain.

We emerged into a close-edged clearing. The roar of water had grown louder, though by no means deafening. Rushing water traveled in a narrow bed. When he halted the stallion, I leaned back, lifted my right leg over the mount’s neck and slid to the ground. He dismounted, flipped the leathers over the stallion’s head and fell in beside me.

I felt the dampness of arousal between my thighs as I walked. Rather than engage him in conversation, I held my tongue. Large trees leaned low over the water. We cut through a narrow gap in the growth and it opened to a crystalline lake and a lovely, tumbling fall. Big rocks jutted upward, crowding under the waterfall and lining the lake edge in places. I couldn’t think of anywhere as beautiful.

“Is it very deep?”

“In the middle, about four times my height.”

“Nothing in there seeking to dine?”

“No, it’s quite safe.”

I gazed upon the tumbling, churning water as he looped the reins over a low branch. When he walked back to me, I said, “You’ll have to help me out of my clothes.”

“I’ve done so in my mind at least a score times daily.” His confession surprised me.

With the sun shining down, I suffered a pang of reserve. “Might there be others about.”

“No eyes but mine will see you.” He lifted my blouse over my head. My braid slithered from the garment down over my shoulder. I undid the ties of my skirt and pushed it to the ground. He took the garment as I stepped from it, turned to lay it and the top over a rock. When he faced me, his eyes moved over me with unmistakable avarice.

I gave him my back. “Unlace me?”

His hands were deft and steady, but I heard the change in his breathing. Sufficiently loosened, he spread the tortuous beast wide and finessed up and over. I inhaled a deep breath, rubbed at the place it forever pinched and squeezed beneath my breasts. Clad in a sleeveless shift and short pantilettes, I savored the liberation.

I wound my way through rocks to the lake’s edge. The water proved just cool enough to provide relief. I waded in over sand and small pebbles, gasping at the sensation created by the turbulent falls. Currents swirled around me. Continuing until it closed above my shoulders, I tilted back my head and savored the moment. Puffy white clouds cavorted high in the sky. The trees swayed, bidden by the same breeze carrying the clouds.

I returned my gaze to the lake, then turned and waded back to water only a bit above my waist. I looked at the captain, my words of gratitude dying upon my lips. His gaze fastened upon my body made me glance downward. The thin white material of my shift clung to me in near transparency. The pink of nipples showed in bold relief. And as I realized they were bare to his gaze, they tightened to hard peaks.

Slowly, I walked until the water only lapped at my knees. I followed his gaze down my body, saw the flare of heat in his eyes as the water-sheer pantilettes revealed my brazen grooming from the previous night. I could see in his face that this time, I had well and truly called down the thunder.

My voice held a breathy quality as I broke the quiet between us. “What will you do, captain? Take me as is your desire, or lash me for tempting you so?”

Something dangerous flickered over his face. “You’ve invited both often enough. I shall grant you one of the two.”

He strode forward, caught my arm and hauled me along with him to a wide almost flat rock slanting back from the lake some feet from the edge. A weather-stunted tree grew directly behind. I stood where he left me, wondering wildly what he intended. A moment later he returned and to my shock, bound my hands high above me, flattening my front to the warm rock.

He meant to frighten me, I reasoned. Punish me for whetting his lust. Let him try!

I kept my eyes upon the stone as I heard him unfurl the whip. The first crack of the lash above my head made me flinch, though I held silent.

“Ready adopt a more modest manner, milady?”

Gathering my courage, I replied, “It seems your aim is off.”

I heard a new sound cutting the air and a stunning line of overwhelming sensation streaked my back. It hurt, but was not exactly pain. Dark pleasure rippled over my already aroused body. I wanted to squirm under the onslaught, though held still.

Moment’s stretched. He waited for my submission. I waited for the lash.

A second flick licked twisted heat over my bottom and this time I moaned aloud at the nerve-sizzling mix of pain and pleasure. He growled, then stood behind me. His fist gripped my braid, pulling my head back. “What manner of creature are you, to be so fearless and wonton?” I felt him flip the whip, then he pressed the handle of it between my legs. They almost buckled with the bewitching pressure.

He made a sound deep in his chest. The whip hit the ground beside us. He turned me, crossing my arms above my head. He ate me with his eyes and I was stretched before him in display. His hands went to his breeches and I watched, fascinated as he unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned to free what I had only felt before. The size of his manhood gave me cause to fear my deflowering. Though, it captivated me all the same.

His hand closed around himself, and I gasped. He stepped closer, so I could feel him moving his hand up and down the thick shaft. The tip of him throbbed against my belly. His other hand shoved under my damp pantilettes, and I cried out as his fingers plundered the wet swollen flesh between my thighs. Two fingers toyed with the sheath of my body and his thumb tormented that nub of converged nerves I’d discovered myself.

I shook and moaned and arched against him. The world contracted to only sensation, to the man wreaking sensual mayhem upon me. My body surrendered in a powerful flash, then clenched as the climax ground through me. Hot wetness spurted against my stomach and I knew he’d found release as well.

For a space we did not move or speak. Then he drew his blade, cut my bindings and returned the knife it‘s place. I tried to catch my breath as he buttoned his breeches and buckled his belt. The rock alone kept me upright, I mused.

He led me back to the water, far less forceful now, and washed away the evidence of his pleasure. He dressed me like a maid, and I felt compelled to comment. “You’ve great dexterity with a woman’s undergarments.”

He replied, “You’ve great skill in turning me into a madman.” After a moment, he tucked my blouse into the waist of the skirt and tied its fasteners. In a much gentler tone, he asked, “Did I hurt you, Lili?”

I smiled, still intoxicated by the after effects of passion. “Not like you mean.”

He helped me mount, came up behind. “Please do not so provoke me again.”

I settled myself against him, feeling my underclothes soaking my blouse and skirt. “Not for a few moments, James, I promise.” I sighed, murmured, “I still haven’t actually gotten to swim.”

He laughed out loud. “If I can find the courage, I will bring you back on the morrow.”