When the Master of Sharks met his beloved, he longed to gather all the roses of the world for her.
His sister, Eagle, warned that tenderness can be a torturous touch.
—COLLECTED FOLKTALES
Sitting on his lap, she delighted in his unmistakable desire for her as it settled between her legs. A blast of pleasure assaulted her as she brushed against his hardness. She should have been appalled at her forwardness. The rich city girls he was used to were probably far more demure. Even prettied up in a fine gown after a fancy bath, Jasminda would never be like them. But he had come to her. He wanted her. It was not possible, and yet here he was.
Jack’s skin burned beneath her hands. The contrast of hard and soft made her fingers long to stroke him everywhere.
He stilled her hands. “Jasminda, are you certain?” The heat in his eyes was tempered with concern.
She nodded. “I would like to have this with you.” Unspoken was the reality that this could well be her only chance. He could be her lover. Perhaps not for more than this one night, but if that was all she had, then she would take it and hold it close in her memory forever.
“You have done this before, I would imagine.” She laughed at his sheepish expression. “Handsome soldiers are not the lonely sort.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, nose, and lips, then brought his hand to her breast and trapped it under hers. “You can show me.”
“But I’ve … I don’t want you to think…” He shook his head. “It was different before.”
She sat back, dropping his hand, her skin rapidly cooling. “Am I so different?”
“You are. In every way.”
Her mind raced as doubts swarmed. She drew away and moved to stand, but he wrapped his arms around her.
“Jasminda, don’t mistake me. You are like nothing I ever thought possible. Like no one else I have ever met. And I am glad of it. You are remarkable.”
She did not want to feel the joy his words inspired, the resurgence of hope within her. Nothing had changed. He was still a prince and she a farm girl with the wrong skin color and too much magic. Tonight was just a night. But as his arms tightened, pressing her against him, her heart threatened to revolt.
He kissed the shell of her ear, her jaw, her chin. “I will show you, if you will show me.”
“Show you what?” she whispered as his tongue tickled her neck.
“Your secrets.”
“I haven’t any secrets.”
He focused on her other ear, tugging on her lobe with his teeth. She shivered, the tiny motion sending a spark all the way to her toes.
“Your body begs to differ.” He stood, lifting her easily. After she settled on her feet, he leaned in for another endless kiss. Molten longing pooled between her legs.
“There is sylfimweed in the kitchens, I trust?” she asked.
“I should think so, with the number of soldiers I reprimand for being found sneaking out of storerooms with maids.” He placed a hand on her belly. The thought of having his child was not something she could entertain at the moment. Yet another fanciful idea to quell. She would go to the kitchens in the morning to obtain the herb.
Jack frowned as he pressed against her stomach. Thinking of half-breed bastards, no doubt. Before she could reassure him that she had no such designs, he kneeled and placed a kiss over her navel through her dress. She froze. He reached down to the hem of her dress, then slid his hands underneath to caress her ankles and legs. Her breath hitched. She needed the damnable dress off. Now.
Fumbling with the strap wrapped around her bosom, she found the end and gave it a strong tug, causing most of it to unravel. Jack watched with rapt attention as the dress loosened and eventually gave way, leaving her top half bare and only a thin silk slip covering her bottom half.
Hot with undiluted desire, his eyes traveled up her body to meet hers. Never breaking their locked stare, she walked backward to the four-poster bed overtaking the room and sat facing Jack. He still kneeled by the fireplace, staring at her.
She crawled back until she hit the pillows, then lay down, her legs barely spread apart. Jack prowled in her direction like a cat ready to pounce. He grasped one leg, tugging it to the side, mirrored the movement with the other leg, and then crawled between them.
A shiver rippled through her as he caressed her legs, hands sliding under her slip, running up her thighs, pulling the material up to her waist.
“No knife?” He sounded disappointed.
“It didn’t match the dress.”
The silky scrap of underwear Nadal had provided for her was all the protection she had from his thumbs as they ran up and down her. He kissed her once there, through the fabric, before moving his tongue up her stomach to circle her navel. The anticipation of feeling him inside her swelled.
He worshipped her body with his tongue, pressing kisses every place he could reach. Hands on the curves of her bottom, he spread her legs wider, settling his weight between them. Jasminda arched up, wanting more but at the same time longing to touch him, too. She freed her arms from her sides and slid her hands down his back, digging her nails into his flesh when he did something particularly delightful with his tongue or fingers.
The panties had to come off. Jack’s head popped up, focused on the material sliding down her legs before she kicked them away. She reached for the front of his trousers but stopped, perplexed at how to undo them.
He grinned and showed her the buckles and buttons, easing them off along with his drawers. She sat up, enthralled with the sight of him. She reached out for him, stroking his length. His eyes closed on a hissed breath. Jasminda loved learning him, changing the pressure and monitoring his reaction as she squeezed and caressed.
With a low rumble in his throat, he pulled away and came to rest on top of her, bringing his face close to hers. He was settled at her entrance but made no move to go farther. Just cupped her face and kissed her silly once again. She wrapped her legs around him, urging him to keep going, to go all the way.
He eased a hand between their bodies and stroked her. She tried to widen her legs even more. Finally, one finger worked its way inside her. She bucked and wriggled beneath him, wanting more, and he chuckled softly before inserting another finger and working them in and out of her, sliding deliciously.
She moaned when his thumb circled her most sensitive area. He kissed and caressed her, creating an amazing buildup of longing and desire. She teetered on the precipice, overwhelmed by what was coming, when he pulled out his hand.
Gasping at the loss, she looked up at him, wide-eyed. He positioned himself once again at her entrance, his expression seeking approval.
“Jack,” she cried. “Please.”
With permission granted, he eased himself into her. A sharp, stinging sensation accompanied the feeling of being stretched wide. She strained as he pushed farther inside her and focused on his face inches from her own. The discomfort was expected, and tempered in large part by her excitement.
Their pelvises met, and she curled her legs tight around his waist.
“Are you all right?” he whispered.
She kissed him in response. “What happens now?”
“Now I start moving, but I want to be sure not to hurt you.”
She wriggled against him, delighted by the fullness of his invasion of her body. Jack grimaced, the tension of not moving evident in the veins bulging in his forehead and neck.
“You’re not hurting me,” she said, and kissed him again. He slid out of her a bit then plunged back in, then did it again with a gentle movement, a rocking in and out of her, creating a sweet friction between them.
Jack voiced unintelligible, impassioned sounds, his arms straining as he kept the majority of his weight off her. Their dual rhythms harmonized as they moved together.
She ran her hands down his back and even lower, wanting to push him even deeper inside her, wanting to hold all of him with her body. When he sped up his pace, she matched him, and the wave built up again. It rose, rose, rose, until she didn’t think anything could ever be better.
Then it broke, a dam shattering, and she came completely apart, nothing but pleasure rushing through her unbridled. She screamed but wasn’t aware of it until the rawness in her throat brought her back to reality and the crest that felt like it had lasted a lifetime slowly faded away.
Her breath came in short bursts, and Jack, on top of her, was doing little better. His face was flushed, and sweat dripped from his hair down to his chin. He gave her a look of pure tenderness and peppered her face with more kisses. He remained inside of her, still pleasant, even as his swell reduced. When he moved to get off her, she clutched him to her more firmly.
“No, not yet.”
He rolled them onto their sides, still intertwined, still one. Jasminda wiped the sweat from his brow and kissed him everywhere she could reach.
“Jack.”
“Yes, my darling?” he said, breathless.
“Just … Jack,” she said, and smiled. He brought her even closer, kissing her until they both had to stop to catch their breaths again. She locked her legs tighter around him, determined to imprint this moment not just in her memory but into her skin, her bones, her soul, and her Song. When she left, it would be all she had to remember him by.