could give her, but she still lacked the courage to seek it for herself. Rather than say anything at all, she entwined herself in him and welcome his kisses with her own.
For a few moments they tumbled about on the bed together, touching and exploring. When he landed astride her thighs, both willingly crossed the point of no return.
Grace opened her legs and tilted her pelvis up to meet him. Liam's member slipped easily in to her warm wet depths. She drew in a ragged sigh as he pushed ever deeper. He filled her so well and completely, like he had been molded just for her. The press of his hips against hers was sheer bliss.
Then Liam began the first slow pull out of her, causing a delicious friction as cool air rushed into the widening gap between them. Grace's eyes widened as she gasped at the change in sensation. Each stroke thereafter built in speed and intensity, from long slow strokes to a desperate pounding rhythm.
Grace moaned and panted and sighed as Liam tuned his body to hers. In a rapturous crescendo she called his name in ecstasy. In that moment they had claimed all that they were to each other and finally found completion.
As passion subsided, contentment took its place. Liam rolled to his back and wrapped Grace in his arms. Both slipped wordlessly into peaceful slumber.
Grace had no idea how much time had passed while she laid in Liam's arms, but came awake dreamily, still enveloped in Liam’s warmth. She drew a deep sleepy sigh and was about to open her eyes, when a lightning bolt of pain shot through her head and drove her mind back into darkness.
Chapter 7
Into the Trap
Liam became gradually aware of the emptiness in the bed, but rather than coming awake, he rolled over to doze a while longer. When he did finally awaken, Grace was gone. He wasn’t alarmed until he saw that although she was not in the room, all of her belongings still were. He quickly tugged his clothes back on and strapped his cutlass to his hip. Liam flew out of the house in search of the one thing most precious to him, the woman who had claimed his soul.
* * *
The dull unending ache throbbing through her skull brought Grace slowly back to her senses. From the rough feel of splinters against her back and legs, she realized that she was lying not in a bed, but on hard wooden planks. She opened her eyes but the darkness did not dissipate. A moment of quiet but futile struggle brought her the knowledge that she was blindfolded and bound. The subtle familiar rocking motion was the final clue; she was a captive, being held aboard a ship.
Grace remained very still. She did not want to give away her conscious condition, if she was being observed. She fought the urge to shift to a more comfortable position and tried to absorb as much as she could of her surroundings.
The moldering smells, lack of air moving across her skin, and the continued gentle rocking told her that she was below decks on a ship of some size. Odds were, she was in the ship's brig. Along with the bustling noises coming faintly from the decks above, she could hear the steady foot falls of a sentry nearby and knew she was being guarded. The question was, whose prisoner was she?
As Grace began to sift through the list of would-be captors, additional footfalls came, presumably from someone coming down the stairs from the deck above. The guard stopped and addressed his new companion.
“Who goes there? No one is to be near the prisoner.”
“I wouldn't be down here if the captain hadn't sent me, you oaf,” came the reply. “Any sign of life, yet?”
“She hasn't moved an inch since we brought her down here.”
“If she doesn't stir soon, captain will send the surgeon down to be sure you didn't knock her brains loose.”
“I barely tapped her skull,” the guard retorted.
“Just shout up the hatch as soon as she starts coming round.”
Then the feet retreated back up the wooden treads and the guard went back to pacing the