The Pirate Prince (Pirate's Booty Series, Book Five) by Temple Hogan Page B

silk and closed around her breasts, gently kneading and caressing. Lowering his head, he took one of her nipples into his mouth, rolling it between his tongue and teeth until she was moaning in ecstasy. Her hands smoothed over his shoulders, up his cheeks to his thick black hair as she drew him to her time and again. She couldn’t get enough of his touch. She was heady with desire. Their passion quickened. Hastily, he removed her clothes then stood to divest himself of his garments.
    He stood before her, all sleek, sinewy muscles and smooth dusky skin. His cock rose, hard and turgid from its nest of black hair. She reached for him, her hands closing around the firm cylindrical flesh. Touching it, feeling its length and power, remembering the feel of him sliding into her moist chambers, made her touch more forceful. She rose and took him into her mouth, sliding her tongue over him, exploring the folds of his tip, brushing her teeth against the sensitive pebbled skin hidden within those folds. She heard him draw a sharp breath and repeated her action. He breathed deeply, moaning slightly then shoved her onto her back so he could kneel between her opened legs. Placing her legs over his shoulder, he dipped his head and tasted her, his tongue delving into her slick well before rasping against her clitoris. She whimpered and arched her body for him.
    When she reached her first roaring climax, he lowered her legs to the bed and slid his cock into her tightened channel. She felt him shoving against her, plowing through her hot, moist sheath until he reached that spot that brought her screaming response to him. He was merciless, withdrawing and plunging again and again until she was breathless and had to hold onto him lest she slip away over some steep ledge and disappear forever. Then his final thrust took her over and she was falling, clinging to him with all her might. His cries answered her own and tears sprang to her eyes.
    After a long time, she was able to draw a breath. Only later did she wonder if she’d truly survived and would eventually emerge as herself. Rajak shifted beside her and cuddled her in his arms before he fell into a restful sleep. His skin was covered by a fine sheen of sweat. Sleepily, she put out her tongue and licked his shoulder and then she also slept.
    They woke several times during the night to make love, sometimes gently, sometimes with a passion that seemed bound to consume them before it burnt out. When the dawn offered its first lights they finally wrapped themselves in each other’s arms and slept again. When Azara finally woke, the sun was high in the sky and she was alone in Rajak’s bed.
    Oma slept on a chair in one corner.
    “Where’s Rajak?” Azara asked in soft, sleepy voice that she wasn’t sure could even be heard, but Oma raised her head and smiled.
    “He’s gone,” the old woman said, coming to the bedside. “Friends came for him and he went away.”
    “He left no word for me?”
    “No, Your Highness. His friends were very agitated and Rajak became so after they talked to him. I think there must be some crisis to which he must attend.”
    Azara lay thinking of Oma’s words. She was certain she had no reason to worry about Rajak. He was among friends and his own countrymen. Thoughtfully, she rose and returned to her chambers, where a fresh bath had been set up for her. She sank into the tepid water, grateful for its coolness against her heated, painful body. Languidly, she lay thinking of Rajak and their passionate night of lovemaking. Although he had spoken no words of love or marriage, his very eagerness plainly showed his continued desire for her.
    After a leisurely breakfast shared with her chattering attendants, Azara wondered what she might do for the day. Obviously Rajak was occupied and she had no wish to sit around the palace, as luxurious as it was. She decided she’d ride back to Port Dauphin and to please Rajak’s concerns for her safety, she would take a heavy