The Pirate's Bride by Skendrovich Cathy

Author:Skendrovich, Cathy [Skendrovich, Cathy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: 18th Century Pirate Romance
ISBN: 9781942856122
Publisher: Literary Wanderlust LLC
Published: 2017-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

“Is it done yet?” Junjie Zheng strode the length of his office. The wide legs of his pants belled out from his impatient pacing.

His informant, a man known for secrecy and fleetness in sailing, stood in the center of the room. “Not yet. They are getting into position. Perhaps a week, sir, at most. Maybe sooner. It will be done to your standards, sir. Do not fear.”

Zheng paused. He glared at this underling. “Of course I do not fear, but you have every right to if this doesn’t culminate in the conclusion I desire. I do not like waiting.”

His anger threatened to engulf him. He breathed deep through his nostrils in an attempt to center himself. The other man stepped back a few paces., “B-but of course, sir. It will be done, sir. Just as you wish.” He bowed low, practically groveling. Zheng dismissed him with a sharp gesture, fuming at this delay in his revenge. More heads would roll if it didn’t happen soon.

~*~

“Show me, please.”

Que diable? what the hell? Andre’s lust-hazed mind whirled as he stared into those blue eyes filled with untouched passion. did she want him to show her? His cock, now the size of a bull’s and already straining toward her? Or the vision of how he would like her to make love to him, by kneeling before reaching up strong, supple hands, taking hold first long fingers, then mouth—

Mon dieu, he needed to get a grip on his imagination or this long-awaited event would end right here, in absolute shame for him. no, couldn’t initiate her into what really went between men and women with one of more carnal fantasies. although, if did that her—

“Andre?”

Merde, he was in danger of losing her interest. He blinked, returning from his woolgathering to find Sophie’s brow furrowed.

He smiled. “Oui, madame. You are such a vision I lost my train of thought. Where were we?" He lowered his lips to hers once more while threading fingers into the thickness her unbound hair, tilting head for better access mouth’s environs.

His tongue slid along hers, twisting and teasing, then licking soothingly, only to start the sensual attack over, until she moaned from deep within her throat. Her body cleaved to his, arms wrapped tight around his neck, unfettered breasts beneath the nightgown flattened against the wall of his chest. Even her pelvis pressed along the stiff length of his maleness with no fearful retreats.

She returned his kisses with clumsy eagerness, pushing her own tongue into his mouth. He grunted, pulled her even closer. She broke away, began laying frantic, wet, little pecks along his stubbly jaw and down his neck while her hands stroked his shoulder muscles.

Between nibbles, she muttered against his warm skin, “I’m so hot, so, so scorching inside. This can’t be right. Am I getting sick?” It took him several moments to realize she expected an answer.

Her innocent caresses threatened to melt him where he stood. He attempted a smile. “No, ma trésor. The illness you suffer from is desire.

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