Defiant: 5 (Noble Passions) (9 page)

Holding her breath, she set the key in the lock and turned
it. The grate made her wince. It seemed so loud. But still, the guards did not
stir. Ned eased through the door. Sophia heard rustling as he roused the
captives and then, one by one, they crept past the guards and up the stairs to
freedom. Sophia held her finger to her lips, though she needn’t have. The men
all seemed to know what was up.

Lady Billingsly was another matter.

Sophia winced at a thud and her subsequent squawk.

“
Shhh.
” A hiss echoed through the hold.

“I’m shushing, dear man. For pity sake—” Her sharp voice
stopped abruptly as though something had stoppered her mouth.

When Lady Billingsly emerged, Sophia realized that
something
was MacDougal’s hand. He guided her past the guards and out of sight. Ned and
Percy came last.

With a great sigh of relief, Sophia followed them up on
deck.

There was still the matter of slipping into the water—no
fewer than twenty of them—without being spotted, but she was certain if they
were crafty and quiet, they could manage.

She emerged from the lower deck with a smile on her face.

It quickly wilted.

All the men—and the woman—she had just saved were clustered
in a knot, surrounded by glowering pirates and held in place by the points of
numerous gleaming cutlasses.

Marquee stood to the side, his fists on his hips. When his gaze
fell on her, his features tightened. His frown was terrifying but his tone was
light when he tsked and said, “Andrew, my boy. I can’t tell you how
disappointed I am.”

She resisted the urge to put her hands on her hips and frown
right back.

Damn and blast.

It had been a good plan. It had been.

“Right, all of you, back down.” Marquee waved toward the
door to the hold. The pirates herded them back down to their prison, but as she
made to follow them, Marquee caught her arm. “Not you, my boy.”

“What?”

“Or you.” His eyes narrowed on Ned. “Take these two back to
the brig,” he said. “And lock them up together. Clearly they’re troublemakers.”
He waggled a finger at Sophia. “I’ll deal with you tomorrow, young man.”

The men around him chuckled, sending a shiver of dread down
Sophia’s spine.

At her side, Ned bristled, his expression fierce, but Sophia
put her hand on his arm. She knew, at this point if Ned made a fuss, things
would only get worse.

As four burly guards dragged them back across the deck to
the brig, Sophia gazed out at the shadow of land on the horizon.

The shadow of hope, lost.

The heavy door closed on them like a death knell. Ned winced
and raked his hair.

Hell and damnation. Not only had their plot not
worked—likely the pirates had been expecting it—now Sophia was confined in this
rathole as well.

It was little comfort that now he knew—
knew
—she was
safe. Judging from the pirate captain’s expression and his menacing threat, she
was in grave danger of reprisal on the morrow. Who knew how the pirate would
respond to their botched attempt at escape?

Fear for Sophia lanced him. As sharp as his fear had been
over the past few days, it was nothing compared to this terror.

All he knew was he would do anything, whatever it took, to
protect her from Marquee’s wrath. Even if it meant his life.

For without her, he was nothing.

He reached for her and pulled her into his arms. She melted
against him, wrapping herself around him and clinging like a limpet.

“I’m so sorry, Ned,” she said with a snuffle, and he
realized she was crying. He bent his head and kissed her tears away.

“None of that. It’s probably for the best.”

“What?” A squeak.

“We likely wouldn’t have made it,” Ned said by way of
cheering her up. It had been a long way to the shore. “Doubtless Lady
Billingsly would have sunk like a stone.”

It heartened him to hear her laugh. “No servants to swim for
her,” she murmured.

He forced a chuckle as well, but only to soothe her. She was
trembling so he led her to the pallet and eased her down. It mortified him, the
thought of delicate Sophia on such a foul bed, but it was all there was. He
leaned against the wall and settled her against his chest. It felt so
magnificent, holding her again. He rubbed her arm.

“Blast,” she said. “I really thought we had it.”

He nodded. “It was a wonderful escape plan.”

She laughed. “Which is it, Ned? A good plan or a terrible
one?”

He didn’t answer but pulled her closer. They sat for some
time in silence, cloaked in darkness. When a shiver walked through her, he kissed
her forehead. “Are you cold?” He wasn’t. The room was stuffy and closed. It
always was.

“No.” Such a tiny voice. He knew something was weighing on
her.

“What is it then?”

“I’m thinking…”

“Mmm?”

“About tomorrow…”

Ah yes. He was thinking about it too.

“What do you think they’ll do to me?” A shudder.

“I don’t know. But I’ll be there. I’ll protect you.”

“Oh Ned, you mustn’t. You mustn’t interfere. No matter what
they do. Promise.”

He stiffened. “I will not.”

She peered up at him. It was dark; he couldn’t see it, but
he could feel her glare. “Which is it? You will not interfere or you will not
promise?”

He sighed. “I will not promise.”

“Ned Wyeth! I cannot allow you to be hurt. Not for me. I’m
not worth your life.”

“Sophia, darling.” He cupped her cheeks, found her mouth for
a quick kiss. “You are. You are…everything.”

She stiffened in his arms. “What did you say?”

Oh hell, what was the point of keeping it from her now? Now,
when all the old rules and all the old restrictions had fallen away? It was
only the two of them in the room, in the world, in the universe. No one else
mattered. Nothing else mattered.

“You are everything. To me. Sophia. Don’t you know it?”

Her breath washed over him as she gusted a sigh. “No. I don’t…
I mean, I thought you didn’t like me at all. Well, except for that bit in the
bunk.”

His chuckle was harsh. Ah, those blissful days in the bunk
during a ravaging storm. What he wouldn’t give to have them back. “I like you.
I like you very much. I always have.”

“But you pushed me away. You called me a pest.”

Hell. Yes. He had. “I didn’t have a choice, darling.”

“You-you didn’t have a choice?”

“Your brother. My brother.”

“What did Ewan do?” she growled.

“He saw us kissing, Sophia.”

“He did?”

“He called me on the carpet for it. He and Edward. I told
them I wanted to court you—”

“You wanted to court me?” It was distracting the way she
cuddled closer. The way her hand skimmed over his chest.

“God, yes. Ewan threw a fit. He went red in the face and
started blathering about dukes and titles until his hair stood on end. They
told me I was never to touch you, never to talk to you, never to see you again.”

“Fuck!”

“Sophia Fiona St. Andrews! Where did you hear that word?”

“From one of the pirates. And from Ewan. He uses it a lot. What
does it mean?”

“I…ah…it means many things.” Lord. He couldn’t explain it
now. Not at the moment. Her warmth, her weight against him, had lurid thoughts
stirring.

“Such as?”

“It means you’re not pleased with your brother.”

“I am not. Ned, just think how much time we’ve wasted.”

His heart stuttered. “Wasted?”

“I would have loved for you to woo me.” She tucked her head
beneath his chin. “We could have…” She didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t
mind. He finished it for her. They
could have
.

Something damp landed on his shirt and soaked through.
Another. And another.

“Are you crying?”

“No.”

But she was. He tipped up her chin and thumbed her tears. “Why
are you crying?”

“B-because n-now I’ll never k-know.”

He didn’t need to ask to what she referred.

“B-because t-tomorrow I will be p-punished. Either k-killed
or worse if they find out who, what, I am. And Ned, I so don’t want my first
time to be at the hands of a p-pirate.” She swallowed with a gulp. “Though
M-marquee is somewhat h-handsome, I suppose.”

Something very like rage rippled through him. “Handsome?”

“F-for a pirate. Still, I would much rather it had been you.”

God.

Everything that had gone before, all his restraint, his
loyalty, his gentlemanly principles, were swept away by a keening lust. No, not
lust. Desire. Adoration. Love.

“Sophia.” He tipped up her chin and kissed her. “It’s not
too late.” He hated that it was here, on this filthy mattress in a
foul-smelling prison. She deserved better.

She deserved better than to lose her innocence to a depraved
pirate as well.

He couldn’t do much for her in these dire straits, but he
could do this.

And God help him, he wanted to.

If Marquee’s plans were what Ned suspected, tonight would be
his last on this earth.

He couldn’t think of a better way to spend it than in the
arms of the woman he loved.

At the touch of Ned’s lips, everything else wafted away. Her
misery, the stench of this horrible little room. Her fears for tomorrow and her
fears of the past. He cared for her. He’d wanted to woo her. That alone sent
joy trilling through her. Damn Ewan for interfering.

But no, she wouldn’t think of her brother now.

Right now there was only Ned. Only this moment. She would
hold this memory in her heart as long as she lived. Though it might only be a
day.

His kiss was savage, raw, hungry, and she met him full
force. She wanted this, craved this. Needed this.

He eased her back on the pallet and nestled at her side,
never breaking contact. He held her chin as he ravaged her mouth, but then his
fingers drifted lower to caress her neck, her shoulder, her breast. His thumb
scraped over her nipple and she moaned. Thusly encouraged, he nudged it again
and then drew agonizing circles around it.

She wiggled impatiently. “Ned.”

“Hush, darling.” A whisper. “We don’t want them to hear.”

An unholy excitement raged through her. Not just because
finally, finally, they would be together, but because it must be a secret
mating. Determinedly, she clamped her lips shut.

He unbuttoned her shirt and his mouth traced a hot path over
her cheek, her throat and her collarbone. When it settled on a bared nipple and
he suckled her, she quivered. Her body softened, dampened. Her heart thrummed
in a heady beat. Her hands, trembling, foraged as well, passing over the broad
shoulders she loved so well, raking the muscles of his back and then, when he
hit a particularly sensitive spot on her belly, nesting in his hair.

She held her breath as he unfastened her trousers. She
lifted up as he slid them off. She bit her fist as his breath caressed her core—she
couldn’t cry out. She shouldn’t. But when he tasted her she couldn’t hold back
the moan. It had been delightful before but now it was even more thrilling. She
spread her thighs, giving him more room to work.

He forgot his own warning as he licked and lapped, groaning
and moaning and whispering how delicious she was. Delicious!

He
was delicious.

And heavens, he was very good at this. Her body flowered
under his attention, going hot then cold then hot again as he teased and
tormented her. She shifted restlessly, lifting her knees and pulling him
closer. Impatience, a simmering hunger, a growing need balled in her belly. Her
pulse pounded in her head, in her heart and in that little button between her
legs.

“Ned,” she hissed, trying to be quiet, but the sensation was
too strong, too overwhelming, too exquisite. Skillfully, he led her to the
edge. She panted as her muscles constricted, as the fever rose. Desperation
clawed at her.

“Easy, Sophia,” he whispered as his fingers drifted over her
core. They slipped lower to her entrance. “Easy, darling.”

She tried, oh she tried. But how could she, caught in this
whirlwind as she was? His mouth closed on her again and he sucked, flicking her
pearl with his tongue, and she seized. Delight washed through her in a scorching
tide. She was certain nothing could match this absolute rapture, but then he
thrust his fingers deep inside her and a new sensation rose. White hot with a
quick, sharp pain, but it was a sweet agony followed quickly by the most
incredible shards of wonder.

He was
in
her.

It felt divine.

He moved slowly and she began to tighten again.

“When you touch me…”

She struggled to make sense of his words. “Yes?”

He eased out and then back in. She shuddered at the
astounding pleasure. “When you wrap your hand around me and stroke, this is how
it feels.”

“Oh. Heavens.” No wonder he’d been putty in her hands. She
resolved to do that more often. If they survived.

But at the moment, she didn’t give a tinker’s damn if she
survived or not, because he was rising over her, nudging her legs wider and
setting his cock where his fingers had been. She felt the tip and shuddered at
his heat. He steeled himself to thrust.

She sucked in a breath. Clenched her muscles in
anticipation. He chuckled. She felt the vibration where they kissed, at her
core. “Easy, darling.”

“I don’t think I can be easy.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. Please.”

She forced her body to obey, though she fairly quivered with
eagerness.

He pushed in, just a bit, and groaned. “Ah.” But when she
wiggled beneath him, he winced.

Mortification flooded her. “Does that hurt, Ned?”

A hint of panic tinged his laugh. “Only in the best possible
way.”

He eased in a little deeper, which felt wonderful but not
nearly as nice as what he’d done before, but he seemed to be enjoying it and
that was, she supposed, what mattered. She tried not to be disappointed that it
wasn’t terribly scintillating—

And then he thrust. Thrust hard and deep.

She shattered.

Dancing lights filled her vision. Incredible bliss whipped
through her being. It was magnificent, this feeling of fullness, possession and
heat wild enough to forge an unbreakable bond.

Of a sudden, in a flash of insight, she understood. She
understood everything.

But she had no time to reflect on this epiphany of life and
love and the universe at large, for Ned retreated. She tried not to cry out in
protest. She wasn’t ready for it to be done—but before she had a moment to gasp
a breath, he lunged back in and she was, once again, possessed.

Glorious!

He continued this delightful motion, the incessant ebb and
flow of a lustful tide, as timeless as the sea itself. With each advance, her
body quailed, rising to a higher and higher frenzy. With each withdrawal, she
clenched around him in a desperate attempt to keep him in. And with each
clench, he grunted and groaned.

His pace increased and, with it, the tumult within her.
Driving her wild with sensation, he pounded in and in, deeper and deeper,
harder and harder. She clutched at him with her arms and her thighs. She arched
up, trying to follow him or urge him on.

He needed no urging.

“Sophia, darling,” he growled, gripping her chin and
smothering her mouth with a ferocious kiss. His hips moved faster, his thick
cock whipping in and out of her body at a manic pace, scraping against screaming
nerves and driving her ever higher.

She didn’t think she could stand it. Didn’t think she could
bear it. Her breath caught. Her pulse rocketed. Her vision dimmed.

Ripples began deep in her womb and then traveled out in
delicious rings, taking her, swamping her, devouring her soul.

Then he swelled inside her.

The new pressure, the delirious feel of his cock, the
powerful plunges kissing some arcane bundle of nerves buried deep, devastated
her. She lost all control. Digging her nails into his back, she exploded,
imploded, dissolved.

A great wash of heat flooded her and she gloried in the
knowledge that it was him. It was Ned, giving her his seed.

That, above all things, pleased her mightily.

And that was saying a lot.

For she was mightily pleased.

Ned held her close after helping her dress. He held her as
she slept, pressing tiny kisses to her brow.