Emma tilted her head in amusement as she leaned on the forward mast, her arms tucked demurely behind her. “Oh, please, Captain Dean, don’t make me walk the plank.”
He lowered a hand over his groin and rubbed his cock through his jeans. Her eyes widened as she watched, and he couldn’t resist popping open the top button. Easing down his zipper just slightly so she could see how fucking much she affected him. “I can think of something better to do with my plank.”
Her tongue darted out and left a shimmer of moisture on her lips.
“Take off your panties,” he ordered.
Emma paused, then lowered her head. She looked up at him through her lashes as she obeyed his command, reaching under her skirt and wiggling her hips as she eased the fabric free. Pale pink silk slipped down her legs to land on the solid wood deck.
Dean knelt in front of her, checking her face carefully. What he saw made every part of him hard and ready. No fear, no nervousness—nothing but anticipation and desire. He curled one hand around the back of her thigh, the warmth of her skin meeting his palm. “You did that so sweetly. Now open your legs.”
Emma placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped her feet apart.
He gave in to temptation and slid his hand higher until his fingers met the spot where her thigh met the curve of her ass. Emma shivered under his touch, her grip on his shoulder tightening briefly. Dean stared her in the eye and caressed forward until he made contact with her pussy. Her hot, wet pussy.
“Fuck, Emma.”
Her breathing quickened as he stroked his fingers through her folds. “Yes, please. I hope that’s the idea, at some point. Soon.”
She moaned as he pushed two fingers into her, moisture coating him as he deliberately stroked in and out, slowly enough she was soon pulsing her hips forward and following his hand, looking for more.
“You’re not very good at staying in one place, are you?” he murmured. “Hmm, I can solve that…”
He pulled his hand free and she complained bitterly. At least until he caught her eye and deliberately licked his fingers clean.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “I’m going to spontaneously ignite if you don’t do something quick.”
“The prisoner doesn’t get to decide how she’s ravished,” Dean reminded her, turning back from the storage bin he’d opened beside them.
Emma stared at the rope in his hands with enormous brown eyes and a visible pulse at the base of her throat.
“Yes?” he asked, because even though he wanted to—fucking hell, he wanted to—she had to be on board. Completely.
She dipped her chin slowly, pausing as she glanced around them at the other boats in the harbor. “What if someone comes along?”
Dean pressed his body against hers as he reached behind her and caught her wrists. That ugly streak of jealousy was still there. “No one but me gets to see you.”
Since the stern of the boat and the forward deck were out in the open, he picked the one spot no one would see them. He tugged her across the deck toward the companionway where there were handrails fastened vertically on either side of the door leading to the cabin. Usually the solid wood sections were something to hold on to in high seas. Now?
They were perfect for something else.
He positioned Emma in the center of the door. “Grab the railings.”
She curled her fingers around them and he made short work of using the rope to bind her wrists to the wood, her arms stretched to the sides. The entire time he worked, he kept in close contact, rubbing their bodies together, stroking his fingers over the bare skin at her neckline and throat until she was purring with pleasure.
He grabbed a wooden box and covered it with his jacket before placing it under her and guiding her to a sitting position. He’d tied her hands just right so that they were stretched slightly above her shoulders, her breasts thrust forward.
Emma moaned. “I’m so turned on right now.”
That made two of them. He didn’t bother to order her around anymore. He clutched her knees and pushed them apart, her skirt riding up and exposing her naked sex. Dean dropped to the deck and levered her legs higher in the air, and then damned if he’d wait a second longer. He pressed his lips to her pussy and ate greedily, his tongue drawing a symphony of noises from her mouth that just increased the urgency driving him.
“Right there, right—”
Emma jerked under his mouth, legs quivering in his grasp. Dean smiled and kept going, lashing her clit with his tongue until she was screaming his name.
Only then did he pull back, shove his jeans down and cover himself. Only then did he grab hold of her ass and pull her hips to the edge of the box, the crown of his aching cock in perfect line with her sweet pussy.
He glanced up to check how she was doing. She’d let go of the railings and was clutching the ropes. Ropes he’d deliberately tied loose enough she could get free at anytime she wanted to, but she was choosing to stay there. Holding herself in position as he lifted her ass off the box and thrust forward.