Page 55 of A Pirate's Pleasure

I searched his face for a lie, but I knew Zephyr Chase, and I knew when he was lying, and none of the signs were there. Relief surged through me. I’d thought the worst when I’d found Zephyr in that weird fugue state, but it seemed incarceration alone had been enough to send him slightly crazy. Which I supposed made sense for a man who struggled even to be on dry land for too long.

A knock sounded at the door and I got up to answer it, Zeph’s brow creasing in confusion as I took receipt of the bucket of water I’d requested at the same time as the bandages and the ointment. His frown grew more pronounced as I pulled him to his feet, but gradually changed to comprehension as I unfastened his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders. “On second thoughts,” he said. “Perhaps it’s as well it’s you and not West. Although, I don’t think bathing someone is in his repertoire. Not unless it’s Whitby, anyway.” I circled Zeph, taking my time to examine every inch of his lean torso for hidden injuries. “I’m fine, Lief,” he said, cottoning on to what I was doing. “It’s just my wrists.”

His amusement grew as I washed him, wiping the cloth over the lean planes of his chest, his shoulders, his armpits, while taking care to avoid getting the bandages wet. When I was satisfied I’d cleaned every inch of newly uncovered skin, I dropped to my knees, Zephyr’s sharp intake of breath as I tugged his boots off, making me smile.

Once I’d dealt with the boots, I tackled his trousers until Zeph was naked. Just like his top half, there were no discernible injuries. There was a noticeable swelling as I set to work on washing his thighs, though. One that only grew more pronounced with time until it curved up toward his abdomen and stood proud and unashamed. It had been a long time since I’d seen Zephyr’s cock, and I’d forgotten quite how beautiful it was. I washed everywhere but there, the coiled tension in Zephyr’s body increasing in line with his cock, and the air turning thick.

“You’ve missed a bit,” he said, his voice husky.

I played dumb. “Have I? Ah, yes, sorry.” I moved the cloth to just behind his knee, Zeph less than impressed by the action. We hung on a precipice. I hadn’t set out to seduce, but now we were here, I wasn’t sure what to do. I’d wanted to rid him of any lingering traces of Lucretius. Maybe not physically, especially now I knew that all the dark and horrible things I’d imagined over the past few weeks hadn’t come to pass, but perhaps mentally. A cleansing of sorts. A new beginning.

Fingers grabbed hold of my wrist, taking the decision out of my hands as he moved the cloth to his cock and held it there. A small gasp escaped from Zeph’s lips as I obligingly pulled the cloth over it. I spent an inordinate amount of time washing the thick shaft before moving to his balls and giving them the due diligence they deserved. A glance up Zeph’s torso found him with his head thrown back and his eyes closed. Red-hot lust streaked along my nerve endings, ridding me of any thoughts except for the here and now.

“It’s been weeks,” Zephyr said, somehow sensing my eyes on him.

“You had a hand,” I teased.

“One that was manacled to the other.” He opened his eyes to peer down at me. “Besides, did you know he could hear my heartbeat? He could tell when it sped up, so I thought it best not to give him any ideas. Not to mention that it wasn’t exactly my priority, that I was more interested in escaping.”

“And now?”

“Lief!” There was admonishment in the way he said my name, but there was need, too. The tone of his voice was an unspoken plea to either step away and let him deal with his erection himself, or to do something about it. Still kneeling, I slid my hands up his thighs until they curled around his backside and I could pull him in.

I didn’t tease or taste, and I didn’t make him wait a second longer than he had to. I took him deep with no preamble, the slide of his cock over my tongue feeling like he’d come home. His fingers burrowed in my hair to curl around my scalp as I sucked him, the muscles of my throat contracting around the buried length as I proved I’d lost none of the deep throating skills I’d learned on this very man. Zeph and I had been competitive as teenagers, who could suck cock the best, just one area where we’d battled for supremacy. And it seemed eight years hadn’t dulled the knowledge of what drove him crazy.

It wasn’t long before the taste of pre-cum filled my mouth, Zeph’s breathing growing increasingly ragged, and his fingers digging into my scalp. A sharp thrill of satisfaction shot through me as he came, and I swallowed down the salty liquid, drawing the moment out by licking him clean and ensuring I didn’t miss a single drop.

After, we remained in that position, my forehead resting against his hip and my eyes closed, while Zeph’s breathing gradually returned to normal. He stroked his fingers through my hair and I enjoyed the moment of peace, everything feeling that bit less dreamlike than it had earlier. “Better?” I finally asked.

A chuckle greeted my enquiry. Before I could question whether that meant yes or no, Zeph seized me under the armpits and threw me on the bed. He followed me down, straddling me and pinning my arms over my head. As he gazed down at me, I met the intensity of his gaze with a silent question. “What you said in the tavern,” he finally ventured, “about forgetting about the past and the future, and just concentrating on the here and now. Did you mean that?”

Had I said that? If I had, it had been driven by a burning need to take the kiss we’d shared further, to stop Zephyr from regarding me as the enemy and have him looking at me like he once had: with desire in his eyes. Just like he was doing now. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded.

Zephyr dropped to his elbows, his lower body fitting on top of mine like we were two pieces of the same thing, lost for a long time, but that still slotted together just as well as they’d ever done. When he kissed me, it was with a slow, building intent that had me bucking beneath him, desperate for more than just his tongue in my mouth. Yeah, I could do the here and now if it meant more of this. More of him.

We kissed for an age. Almost to where I felt like I was back in that dreamworld. Nothing but tongues and heat, and the gentle rocking of the ship beneath us. Replete from his orgasm, Zeph was in no rush. When he finally sat back up, it was with an expression bordering on smug. “You want me!”

I laughed, because what else was I meant to do with a ridiculous statement like that? “Have you only just worked that out? I don’t think there’s ever been a time when I didn’t want you.”

Except when you left.

The words hung there between us, but neither of us said them. Zephyr gave a slow smile and then attacked my clothes like they were his personal nemesis, tugging and pulling at them until we were both breathless and laughing. Once I was naked, a strange expression settled across his face and he swiped a thumb across my cheekbone in a gentle caress. “What?” I asked him. “What’s put that look on your face?”

“Me. You. Us.”

It was no explanation, but I knew what he meant, nevertheless. His gaze drifted down my body, the heat in it unmistakable. I waited, holding my breath for when he’d reach the place just above my groin on the left-hand side, the place where I’d had West employ his artistic talents to permanently etch what I’d asked him to.

Zeph frowned, his fingers stroking over the black ink. “Is that…?”

“A tattoo?”

He rolled his eyes. “The letter Z?”

“It is.”

A pause. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips. “For what?”

I propped myself up on my elbows so I could see the intricate pattern, too. I had to admit that West had done a fantastic job, and I’d grown used to having it there. “Z could be for a lot of things.”