She’d love all of it, even if it hurt. But this didn’t. Ecstasy was quickly unwinding through her, twisting and loosening with each pump of his hand. She barely felt the slide of cotton down her arms. Then he licked her nipple and all that she could feel was his tongue and his strong fingers, pushing her higher. With a gruff sound of pleasure, he sucked the taut peak into his mouth, his thumb caressed the swollen bud of her sex and she was there, shaking and clenching—and ready for more.
Her hands dove to the front of his breeches. A strangled noise came from his throat, something like Wait, but her nimble fingers had already unfastened the buttons and found him, thick and hot in her palms.
“Ivy—”
He broke off as her fingers slid over the wide tip, spreading the drop of his seed. Her gaze lifted to his. “Come into the bed now. Come into me.”
His throat worked. “Yes.”
At his rough reply, she scooted back, pushing the nightgown past her hips and kicking it away. Eben shoved his breeches down and looked up at her. His gaze stilled on her legs, jumped to her breasts, and fell to the curls between her thighs before rising to her face.
“You take my breath, Ivy.”
And he would make her cry if he didn’t stop that. Reaching forward, she drew him to her—skin to skin, for the first time. He lay at her side, his mouth finding hers, his hands stroking her back toward the edge. She trembled with need as he unwrapped the sheath, smoothing it over his heavy shaft. Finally, he settled between her spread thighs, elbows braced beside her shoulders, and looked down at her.
Sweat sheened his skin, dark gold by the light of the gas lamp. He brushed a stray hair back from her forehead. “Tell me if it becomes too painful. I swear to God, I’ll stop.”
She could feel him, the blunt tip wedged between her slick folds. Anticipation was driving her insane. “I ache now.”
His mouth lowered to hers. “Then take me.”
The muscles in his back flexed beneath her hands. Pressure built at her entrance, followed by tearing pain. By the starry sky—it did hurt. Biting back a scream, she turned her head, squeezing her eyelids shut. Eben gently kissed her cheeks and her lips; his cock split her in half below. He murmured her name, sipping away the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. And still he drove deeper, until she felt as if a heated piston had been grafted inside her.
He finally stopped, his hips pinning hers and her thighs open wide, the weight of his upper body supported on his forearms. “Ivy?”
She couldn’t look at him. Only moments before, she’d begged for this. Now she just wanted him to get on with it and then get off her.
“Have you finished?”
“No.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “We’ll wait a few minutes while your bugs heal you up around me. You won’t have to go through that again.”
“Good.” The burning pain had faded. Now she was just full. She couldn’t decide if it was uncomfortable or not—but she definitely didn’t like this.
She could see that Eben liked it, though. His breathing was quick and shallow, the muscles in his chest and arms straining with the effort of keeping still. Beneath her hands, his nanoagents raced like fire, sparking across his nerves. His heart pounded. Experimentally, she lifted her hips.
Though she only managed to nudge him, his reaction was everything she could have hoped. He sucked in a sharp breath, his spine bowing as he jerked upward. His hands fisted beside her head. As if gratified by his response, her inner muscles clung to him when he began to withdraw.
“No, Ivy. Wait until—”
Her fingers digging into his firm ass, she hauled him back. The impact rocked Ivy to her toes, little ripples that seemed to reverberate in the slick channel hugging his length. Eben shouted in surprise and pleasure, his head falling forward, teeth clenching. A deep groan tore from him.
“I can’t, love . . . I can’t—Ah, God. I’m sorry. I have to—” Muscle bunched beneath her palms. He rose above her, bracing his left hand beside her shoulder and sliding his right hand between them, the tip of his middle finger brushing her clitoris. “I’ll try . . . to go slow.”
He pulled back. Ivy stiffened, preparing herself—and wishing he’d go fast. If he finished quickly, then she could . . . she could . . . Oh, blue heavens. He pushed into her, and though his thick length stuffed her too full, the stretch wasn’t painful, and the movement of his finger flicked little sparks into her belly, a fire building higher and higher.
She still didn’t know if she liked it. But she wanted more. Her palms smoothed up over his back. She hooked her leg over his hip, and cried out when he suddenly thrust deep.
Eben froze. “Did I hurt you? God, Ivy. I didn’t expect you to wrap your leg—”
“No.” Her back arched. She couldn’t stop moving, writhing against him. “More. More.”
Tension shook through his big body, sweat gathering on his skin and glistening in the lamplight. His gaze fixed on her face, he worked leisurely into her again. And again. She bit her lips to stop herself from crying out, but her moans were almost as loud. At the end of each long stroke, she stiffened and trembled until his fingers on her clit pushed her into motion again, and she twisted her hips, trying to take more. He slowly slid in to the hilt, and she was as desperate as before. Helplessly, she spread her legs wide.
“Eben, I need . . .” She didn’t know. Her chest heaved with her labored breaths. “Please.”
With a tortured groan, he paused with his cock lodged inside her and closed his eyes, as if gathering strength. He withdrew his hand from between them and slid it beneath her hip, tilting her pelvis up.
In a low voice, he said, “Tell me if it’s too much.”
He slammed forward. Ivy gasped, tried to catch her breath, but he was already there again, deep and hard. Her hands spasmed. Afraid of hurting him, she grabbed the sheets and twisted, crying out as he pounded into her.
“This?” Letting go of her hip, he buried his fingers in her hair, as if to anchor her for each heavy stroke. “Is this what you need?”
Too overwhelmed to speak, Ivy nodded. Then his mouth covered hers, hungry, searching. Her legs wrapping him tight, she found his rhythm and met each powerful lunge. Her breasts swayed with the force of his thrusts, their stiffened tips brushing his chest in a maddening tease. Need spiraled, like a screw turning tighter and tighter with every desperate plunge. Her limbs suddenly locked, her body straining and rigid. His kiss deepened. His mouth caught her cries as she shuddered around him, her inner muscles clenching on his shaft. Then he was pumping into her again, hard and fast, gripping her backside to hold her still. He was finally letting go, Ivy realized, and she moved with him, urged him on until he shoved deep, shaking as he pulsed inside her, groaning against her lips. She clung to him, panting, sweating.
And decided that she’d liked it, after all.
Unable to sleep, Eben rose long before the end of first watch. He dressed in his breeches and shirt, and crossed the cabin as quietly as his leg would allow. After pouring brandy, he sat at the window and looked out into the dark sky.
He tried not to think of Ivy. He tried not to think about twenty days from now, when she would leave his ship. He tried not to think about how proving that he was a man of his word meant keeping his word . . . and that meant he had to take her home as he’d promised. He tried not to think about the risk she’d taken by accepting him into her body—not because she believed he’d care for her, but because she would be fine without him.
In the few minutes that he managed not to think of those things, he drank his brandy, and tried to think of what might persuade Ivy to call Vesuvius her home.