Knights Of The Ruby Order: Lock Part 33

Lock laughed humorlessly. "Just like a woman."

She grasped his wrist, her nails biting into his flesh. She stared into his eyes, her stomach twisted with rage. "I don't know you anymore, and I hate you."

She turned and walked back to Ilias and the boy.

"Ilias, help him below. I'll do what I can for him." She glanced at the whipped man who was being untied from the mast. "Him, too."

Sparrow doubted she'd ever been so furious in her life. No matter where they docked next, she was going ash.o.r.e and never setting foot on the Lady Fire again.

"Nice night." Lock approached Sparrow who stood, gazing at the sea. Moonlight shone on the water and the breeze felt cool.

"Yes."

"You look beautiful." He touched her hair, but she jerked her head away.

He let his hand drop. For over two weeks she'd given him one-word answers and hadn't allowed him to touch her, let alone kiss her.

"Ilias made up a h.e.l.l of a string of limericks tonight."

"Yes."

"He had you laughing."

She started to walk away, but he grasped her hand and felt her stiffen beneath his touch. He resisted the urge to release her, feeling like an unwelcome serpent crawling up her skirt. Since that day he'd punished the men and she said she'd hated him, nothing had been the same between them. At first he thought she'd just been angry. He could understand her feelings. She wasn't accustomed to life aboard a pirate ship. He had to keep control of the men. As it was, he knew several of them thought him lenient in his punishments. They thought Sparrow had influenced him to let the boy live, and they were right to a point. Killing the boy for stealing coins seemed harsh, especially when compared to the crimes he'd committed. Still, when he'd been as young and inexperienced as the boy, he'd been careful not to steal from his captain's cargo. The boy didn't matter to him-at least not as much as Sparrow. Since that day, she'd acted like she truly hated him. She looked at him like he was a demon spat up from the smokiest h.e.l.l, and he couldn't bear it.

"Sparrow, you haven't talked to me in weeks."

"Really?"

"By the twin G.o.ddesses, girl, can't you make a sentence with more than one word?"

"Perhaps."

He tugged her toward him, a hand on each shoulder. When he tried meeting her eyes, she gazed past him toward the black horizon. "Sparrow, what are you trying to do? At night you don't even let me touch you."

"I'm not your wh.o.r.e."

He laughed humorlessly. "There you go. Four whole words. Whoever said you're my wh.o.r.e?"

"You didn't have to say it. It's how you treat me. Like one of your slaves. Like one of your crewmen-except at night, that is."

"I really need a cook, but if you don't want to do it-"

"It's not the work, and you know it! It's you, Lock."

"If you're still thinking about the punishments to those crewmen, I was well within my rights."

"You've changed."

"I'm what I always said I was and you chose to ignore!"

"No. You were different. Don't you feel it?"

He wanted to deny the truth in her words, but he couldn't. He was different. When he'd been at the farm with her, he thought about being at sea, but the pirating part faded somewhat. He liked working on the farm, not that it was the life he'd choose for himself, but being with her was worth it. He had daydreams of marrying her and supporting them by fishing and trading on a ship he bought with honest money. It wasn't the most exciting life he imagined, but it was good. When he'd met the Knights in Begonia, he'd even started to have the crazy vision that he could become one of them. That way he could earn an honest living but not lose the excitement he craved. He could study fighting, learn more about healing-maybe even teach that old witch Shea-Ann a thing or two. But who was he kidding? He wasn't a Knight. He'd spent his entire life doing everything they abhorred. They saved lives, he took them. They gave to the poor, he stole from almost anyone. They fought for the oppressed, he fought for whatever monarch hired him as a privateer.

"Don't you feel it?" Sparrow pressed. Her palms splayed across his chest, the most intimate touch she'd awarded him in weeks.

He covered her hands with his, holding them to his heart. "This is the only life I know, Sparrow. It's what I do."

"That's an excuse, Lock. You know you can be so much more than this."

"Can I?"

"Yes. I believe you can do anything you want. Obviously you can be a pirate, but that's a waste of your true talents."

"What true talents?"

"You're intelligent, Lock. You know so much more than these men, than men like Rino. You can learn so much more. You can be a loving man. I've seen you help Shea-Ann when she's healing. I watched you rebuild a village that was nearly destroyed. You can create, Lock. You don't have to kill and steal."

Lock tugged her into his arms and held her as they gazed at the sea.

When he was very young, he used to love building things out of sand. Castles. Villages. Ships. He'd pretend he was aboard his father's vessel. His father had the finest ship in the Archipelago and he taught Lock how to run it. They visited ports in exotic places he could only imagine. Of coa.r.s.e it was all fantasy. He had no idea who his father was. It could have been any of the seamen his mother entertained at the brothel.

The waves always destroyed what he built. For years he tried telling his mother about the adventures he made up, but she never listened. She ignored him when he asked who his father was. One day she said his father had returned. He awaited Lock in her room at the brothel. Excited and a bit frightened, Lock made his way to the room. He found a man sure enough, but he was in no way his father. It had been the first time Lock's mother had sold him for profit.

"This isn't such a bad life, Sparrow," he said. "There's worse."

"And there's better. I can't live like this, Lock. I'm telling you I can't."

"We don't have a choice right now."

"There's always a choice." She slipped from his arms and disappeared below.

He stared at the moon, remembering that day in the brothel so long ago. "No, girl. Not always."

Chapter Twenty Three.

"Lock?"

"Thought you were asleep." Lock sat at the edge of the bed beside Sparrow, his shirt rolled up to his elbows, the front untied.

Sparrow shook her head, her eyes meeting his in the dimness.

He continued, "We'll go ash.o.r.e tomorrow. No point now. It's too late."

"Good." She wondered if she sounded as strained as she felt. Ash.o.r.e. This would be her last night with him. She'd been so angry at him for such a long time that she thought leaving would be simple. Now as she looked at him and knew she'd probably never see him again, she felt mostly sadness. Not average sadness, but a deep, raw ache, akin to how she'd felt when Thea died. Lock is not dead! He's just stubborn. And stupid. And... a pirate. He had told her that much from the first.

"What's wrong? I mean other than the usual you hate me and this ship." He touched her face hesitantly. She'd pushed him away so often he scarcely ever tried touching her anymore.

"I don't hate you."

"No?"

She shook her head. She didn't. She was angry with him and disappointed he refused to become the man she knew he could be. The truth was she loved him. She knew part of her would love him until the day she died.

She sat up and looped her arms around his neck. He embraced her so tightly she could scarcely breathe, but it was a wonderful feeling. She'd missed him, though they'd been living together at sea for several weeks.

"I thought you did hate me."

She shook her head. "I love you, Lock."

He looked into her eyes, the slightest smile on his lips. "That's good to hear."

"Do you still love me?"

"What kind of a question is that? Of course I do."

"Prove it," she pleaded, taking his face in her hands. "Tomorrow when we dock, leave this ship and don't look back." He didn't reply, but remained with his eyes fixed on hers with confusion, sadness, and guilt. She sighed. "You won't."

"What would we do if we left the ship? I have nothing to offer you. No home. No money. No work."

"We can build a home and find work. d.a.m.n it, Lock, I was a princess and was cast out of my kingdom with nothing. I survived. You survived in the Archipelago with that b.i.t.c.h of a mother and-"

"You deserve more than just surviving."

"I deserve to be stuck on a ship full of cutthroats waiting for you to be overthrown like you overthrew Rino? Is that what you want for me? For our children? I will not raise a family with a pirate! I don't care if you have nothing. You'll have dignity and honesty. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Dignity?" He laughed humorlessly. "You know my life, Sparrow. You expect dignity?"

"For an intelligent man, you have no vision."

"No...What are you talking about, girl? Vision. I have more visions than I'd like."

"I'm talking about vision of the future as you make it, not something that comes to you in dreams. Stop remembering what you were and think about who you want to become."

"I can see the near future." He kissed her mouth, her neck.

Sparrow didn't argue, didn't push him away. Instead she clung to him and kissed him deeply. Her tongue slipped between his parted lips and stroked his. Lock buried his hand in her hair and wrapped his arm around her waist as he tugged her close, tilting her across his lap. Sparrow's fingers gripped the steely muscles of his shoulders and back. She wanted to memorize every inch of his magnificent body to sustain her for the rest of her life.

Lock took her upper lip gently between his, running his tongue over it before his mouth traveled across her cheek and down her neck. Lowering her to the bed, he began undressing her, licking and nipping every inch of her flesh as it was bared.

His mouth covered one nipple, his tongue teasing the stiff nub with broad strokes. At the same time, his fingertips caressed her other nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger and stroking it with the pad of his thumb.

Sparrow wanted to close her eyes to better enjoy the sensations, but she couldn't keep from staring at him. She needed to see the muscles of his powerful body as he moved over her, to relish the beauty of his white and brown hair. She wanted to remember forever the expression on his handsome face as his pa.s.sion built.

"I never thought I'd be so lost to one woman," he said in a husky voice as he slipped to his knees on the wooden floor, grasped her thighs, and dragged her to the edge of the bed. He lowered his face between her legs and ran the tip of his tongue down each side of her c.l.i.t. Sparrow shivered with impending desire and moaned softy when his tongue rimmed her p.u.s.s.y lips. The bed itself was low enough to the ground that Lock could thrust into her waiting p.u.s.s.y from where he knelt. He straightened and slipped his thick, hard c.o.c.k inside her. Sparrow's eyes closed halfway and her pulse quickened. How she would miss him!

As he thrust, one of his hands stroked her c.l.i.t while his other played with her nipples, rubbing them in tender circles and gently tugging them. The sensations on so many sensitive parts of her body were enough to fling her headlong into a fiery, moaning o.r.g.a.s.m. He continued thrusting and stroking until she lay still beneath him.

He slipped his stiff c.o.c.k from her body and tugged her fully onto the bed. Stretching out beside her, he stroked wisps of hair from her face and brushed a kiss across her lips.

Sparrow turned to him, searching his face. "What about you?"

"I can wait. Tonight is for you."

"But-"

"I want to convince you I still want your happiness, Sparrow."

"Happiness isn't just about physical love, Lock."

His gaze held hers and she thought she saw a flicker of hesitation and perhaps regret.

"It's one way I know I can please you."

"I'd rather you pleased me less in lovemaking and left the ship instead."

"Enough talk. We can have another discussion tomorrow. For tonight..." Lock's mouth devoured hers. Though she knew she should push him away, she also realized it wouldn't matter. He'd made up his mind, as she'd made up hers.

Lock rolled her onto her back and sifted his fingers through her hair. Brushing the soft ma.s.s aside, he kissed her nape then her shoulders. The tip of his tongue ran from the top of her spine to the indentation of her b.u.t.tocks. One hand slipped between her legs, his fingers fluttering across her perineum then gathering moisture from her p.u.s.s.y. His damp fingers stroked her c.l.i.t while his other arm snaked around her waist, lifting her slightly. Sparrow rose to her knees, her forearms flat against the pillow. His kisses covered her bottom.

Grasping her hips in both hands, he drew a deep breath as he entered her from behind.

"Oh, Lock," she panted.

"Tell me what you want, girl."

"I want you," she said. In every way she wanted him, but as filled with pleasure as she was at the moment, it was not to last. It seemed the only way she could truly have him was in bed. Sorrow mingled with building desire in the pit of her belly. What else had she expected from a SothSea wh.o.r.e?

Sparrow gasped and moaned, o.r.g.a.s.m hurling her into a quivering frenzy. His ragged breathing told her he must be close, though again he slipped, rock-hard, from her.

Rolling her onto her back, he covered her body with his, gazing deeply into her eyes. She stroked his face, trailed her fingertip over his lips and kissed him.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered. His c.o.c.k pressed between them and his eyes gleamed with pa.s.sion.

"I want to feel your pleasure," she said. "I want you to explode inside me. I want to hear my name on your lips when you come."

His lips curved upward in the slightest smile before he kissed her. Sparrow reached between them, curling her fist around his thick c.o.c.k and guiding him to her p.u.s.s.y lips.

In a swift motion, he filled her and began thrusting. Ignoring her own desire to close her eyes as his slow, steady movements rekindled her pa.s.sion, she watched him. His blue eyes slipped shut, his lips parted as he drew sips of air. He buried his face in her neck and kissed her, his stubbled jaw pleasantly rough against her tender flesh.