The Buccaneer(80)

Catherine opened her eyes surprised. "I did it," she announced proudly.

"And that's just the beginning," he smiled.

Excited by her achievement, she laughed, announced she was ready for less two, and kissed Lucian soundly.

He was caught off guard, a tendency he thought he had broken years ago, so his lack of attention shocked him. So did her kiss. It was quick, but artfully sensual. Her tongue shot in his mouth, fenced a brief and excited moment with his, and then departed, leaving him excited and hungry.

"Lesson two," she repeated, unaware of how she had raised his temperature considerably.

He became astutely aware of their nakedness and the buoyancy of the water surrounding them. Bloody hell, but he'd enjoy taking her here in the sea. And here he could take her roughly, the water softening his urgent thrusts. He hardened at the idea.

"Lucian?" Her voice questioned gently.

He shook himself from his reverie. "Lesson two," he heard himself say, and wondered which lesson he'd demonstrate lovemaking in the sea.

o0o



"My arms ache," Catherine protested an hour later.

Lucian sounded annoyed when he spoke. "You insisted on practicing too long."

"I wanted to learn."

"It wasn't necessary to learn in an hour's time," he said curtly, surprised by how quickly she had mastered the skill.

Catherine continued to bob beneath the water, her feet prodding the sea's soft floor to add to her bounce. She wondered over his snappish remark. "I hadn't known swimming could be so enjoyable."

"It has its moments," he said, standing. The water fell to his waist, his well-muscled torso dripping, his hair wet and glistening.

Catherine caught the ragged gasp that rushed to her lips. It wouldn't do to let him see how he affected her. To let him know that with a simple look, her blood could race hot with passion for him and her body could tingle with the anticipation of him filling her to the brink.

She stood as well, assuming their lesson over. "I suppose you've had enough instructing for one day." She turned her bare backside to him and headed toward the beach.

One step, two steps, three steps. He watched her walk away. She thought her lessons over, complete, finished. The hell they were finished. If she thought that he touched her wet naked flesh for the last hour with no intention of making love to her, she was a damn fool.

He intended to touch, stroke, kiss, and bloody well ease this damnable ache that started as soon as she had entered his arms on the veranda.

His eyes devoured the way her round backside swayed, rivulets of water running off her firm flesh. The sea fell away from her nakedness almost reluctantly as she emerged farther and farther.

Lucian watched with steady and hungry eyes. Watched as the water released her and exposed her legs and the haven where he knew he'd find paradise.

She raised her arms, squeezing the saltwater from her long silver hair. She turned slowly, gracefully, and for an instant stared at him. Her breasts jutted out full and invitingly, her belly was soft and flat, and the silver triangle of curls beckoned most sinfully.

Gracefully she turned once again, only this time she rushed to the shore — away from him.

Her anxious flight angered him and like a mighty god emerging with wrath from the sea he descended on her.

Her feet barely touched the warm sand when she was swept up into Lucian's arms.

"I want you."

Catherine shivered, though warm; his voice ran like icy fingers down her spine.

"That's right, angel, fear me, for at this moment I want to take you like I've never done before."

"Lucian." His name spilled in a soft plea from her lips.

He ran his mouth roughly over hers. "No amount of pleading will help. I plan on taking you here. Now. My way."

His own words enraged him with passion. He wanted desperately to possess her, to love her so thoroughly that she would never forget him, never want another man, and never want to love again. He wanted her to be his and his alone.

He dropped slowly to his knees with her still cradled in his arms. "Lesson number ten," he said, placing her on the warm sand, moving down over her and savagely capturing her mouth.

Bloody hell, but she tasted like the sea, salty, fresh, and wet. So damn wet that he could think of nothing but her warm, slick sheath that waited for him.

"Lucian." Her voice attempted sanity, but the tremors that racked her clearly declared her on the threshold of madness.

Lucian pulled back away from her, kneading her breasts as his knees nudged her legs apart.

"I'm going to take you beyond paradise, beyond passion, into the deep dark recesses of insanity," he said, his hand stroking her silver mound roughly. "You want to go with me, don't you angel?"