Fallen Angel Read online

  “This might sound like an odd question, but…” She had to fight to ask, it seemed such a silly question, after all it couldn’t be any time but 2007 could it? She took a breath and met his green eyes again. “Wh—What year is this?”

  James’ brow quirked but after a moment he seemed to relax, though his expression was curious. “Why, my sweet doxy, you know very well that this is the year of our lord, 1769.”

  “No.” She tried to pull back but his arm was like a vice at her back.

  “Yes.” The word was clear and allowed no argument. “And since the introductions are out the way, we have made a fair bargain—a safe voyage to England in exchange for a willing doxy. I choose to collect, now.” At long last he dipped his mouth those last few inches to claim her lips.

  Chapter 2

  The pirate’s first kiss was forceful, demanding. His tongue flicked over her lower lip and with a sigh she welcomed him.

  This is wrong! Her mind screamed. You’re two hundred years in the past and about to have incredible, mind blowing sex with one of the most notorious pirates in history. Damn it woman wake up!

  But as he moulded her body against his and slid his tongue, sensually into her mouth, another part of her purred and stretched under his heated assault. It had been a long time since any man had kissed her with such passion. His hands were strong yet surprisingly gentle and she could feel his arousal pushing against his britches. He wanted her, said she was beautiful and he was easily the sexiest man she had ever met. But you don’t know him! Her mind screamed again.

  James curled one arm behind her knees and another around her shoulders then lifted her effortlessly.

  Too late now, she thought smugly and wound her arms around his throat when he lowered them both to the bunk, his mouth still moving on her own.

  Her mind reeled with the buzz of the wine and the thrill of the man who held her.

  Don’t wake up, please don’t wake up, not yet…

  He pulled back slightly and grinned, his breaths puffing against her still parted lips. “What, no more objections? No more strange questions?” he murmured running a single finger over the curve of her plump breast.

  “Would you care if I did?” she replied tartly, and curled her leg around his as she pushed the big jacket off his shoulders. How could such a simple act look and feel so exciting? “Besides, I’ve decided that this is all a dream caused by my over worked and over stressed mind.”

  “Intriguing,” he replied, his voice thick with amusement as he nibbled around her jaw-line and kissed a searing path down her throat. “Do go on.”

  “Well,” she continued breathlessly as he rose up onto his knees and ran his fingers tantalizingly up her thighs. “My theory is that after the betrayal of my lover I was deeply hurt and in need of some comfort, but as my parents passed away several years ago, I was all alone and unable—to receive it.” her last words were gasped out as his fingers traveled in intricate little waves up her inner thighs to her simple white panties, which he caressed his thumb over, curiously.

  “I am sorry about your family. I am without as well, so I know the pain of having nowhere to turn.” he spoke softly and she was touched by the empathy in his tone, but his expression turned curious again as he looked back at her clothes. “What are these?” he asked running his thumb over the damp crotch of her panties and smirking when she shivered and arched against his thumb.

  “Oh stop that, I may be two hundred years in the past but surely you have some form of underpants,” she returned.

  “Ah,” he breathed, his tone still mocking. “Two hundred years and all you have to show for it is this very inappropriate excuse for clothing and barely shielding underwear.” he kissed her knee and flicked out his tongue, making her moan. “How far man has advanced, you must be so proud.” His ironic tone did not go unnoticed.

  “Well it’s not just the clothes that have changed, Captain,” she said indignantly and sat up only to find his knee situated between her spread thighs and his lips dancing over hers again as he rubbed his thigh erotically against her sex. Up and down, ooh up and down. She gulped and gripped his wet shirt as he applied just a little more pressure with his strong thigh, easing the ache and intensifying it all at once. Had she been talking? “L—Lots of things are different, better even, in my time.” But she was babbling and it no longer seemed important next to the way the pirate was making her feel. Eliza couldn’t remember the last time she was this aroused dream or not.

  “Well at least wenches have remained the same.” he drawled, rubbing harder against her soaking panties and dipping his mouth to lap over one erect nipple then the other. Even through the cloth of her blouse his mouth felt hot, the swirling of his wicked tongue was almost her undoing, even as he continued to taunt her. “Still yearning to be loved and filled the way only a man can.”

  “No need to be so damn cocky about it. And men don‘t seem to have advanced at all, not that I need a man to fulfill my needs when I have more modern conveniences to keep me satisfied,” she grumbled and the squeaked when he removed his thigh and mouth and stood abruptly. “Where are you going?” she asked hurriedly and blushed at his smug grin.

  “I stand corrected,” he mocked.

  She watched with bated breath as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots. Then he stood and started removing the remainder of his clothing. “You will remove those items you call clothes.” he commanded, once again leaving no room for argument. “I wish for you to be bared to my eyes when I take my pleasure.”

  Eliza’s face flushed. His statement was so offensive on more levels then she could pin down and outrage danced around the edge of her excitement at this pirate taking his pleasure inside her...

  Her body flooded with heat and she had to grip the sheets to stop herself lunging at him, ripping his pants open and riding him hard and fast, the way she wanted. For a moment she was almost afraid of how much she wanted him.

  Before she could think straight her gaze was transfixed by his newly revealed chest as he peeled his wet shirt off his shoulders and threw it to the floor. Her mouth went dry and she was sure that she was gaping at his broad, muscular shoulders. Weather-worn and marred by scars and burns, the smattering of hair gave the impression that he was as much beast as man.

  She noticed the brand burned into his flesh just above his left nipple, a ’P’ which she recognized from her book as an East India Company brand for pirates. Her eyes grazed down his tight stomach and widened on the intricate tattoo of the phoenix covering the right side, its tail feathers curling around his waist. Her tongue itched to flick and run over those intricately designed lines.

  “What are these modern conveniences?” he asked staring down at her strangely and flicking a finger indicating that she had not yet stripped, and to her surprise and ire she found her hands following his orders. Within moments her blouse, skirt and panties lay on the floor by his bunk and she lay back, propped up on her elbows watching him unbuckle his belt. The rum and his heated gaze seemed to have numbed most of her modesty.

  “Um, yes modern conveniences.” she said, but her mind was no longer on their discussion and her eyes seemed glued to his long fingers as they worked on his britches. “Things that help make our lives easier.”

  He finished with his britches and let them drop, grinning at her gasp when his long, thick member stood hard and proud. “You don’t say,” he quipped and dropped to his knees on the bunk and crawled slowly, predatorily towards and over her trembling form.

  “I do,” she argued if only to keep her mind while her body sank deeper into lustful insanity.

  The pirate chuckled and ghosted his mouth over hers. “Let me guess,” he drawled as he lowered himself between her parted thighs, his hardness resting against her tingling mound and his chest crushing her breasts deliciously even as he propped himself up on his elbows. “These modern, tools?” he inquired over the use of the word and continued on her nod, rhythmically pressing himself against her as they e
xchanged brief yet passionate, open mouthed kisses. “They help the modern woman to find pleasure when her husband or master is unable?”

  “Husband or lover, yes,” she spoke between gritted teeth even as her hips rose to meet his teasing rhythm. “Women are not bartered and sold like cattle as they are here.”

  “So dramatic, my lady.” he mocked and shut his eyes as his hand shifted to her soaking pussy and he slipped a single finger inside, groaning and licking his lips. “Bloody hell, you’re so wet.” he breathed and with a final look into her smoldering eyes he dipped and captured her lips again, shifting slightly to guide his rock hard erection into her tight slit.

  He pushed in a bare inch, spreading her with his thickness and suddenly stopped. His breath rasped hotly against her throat and she could feel his large, muscular body trembling with the effort to stay motionless.

  “James?” she questioned, digging her nails into his sides and bending her knees in silent plea.

  “Tell me what you want,” he hissed, and nipped at her plump earlobe.

  “What do I want?” she had to rein in her frustrated cry. “Are you kidding?”

  “Please…” He moaned against her throat. “Tell me, I need to hear it. Please Ellie,” he whispered that last part, his mouth ghosting over her cheek and the almost desperate plea was more thrilling then anything she had ever experienced.

  She opened her eyes and was shocked by the uncertainty mixed with lust in his expression. Her mind clouded, confused, but this was not the time and her body screamed for fulfillment. With a mischievous smile she smoothed her hands up his sides, over his shoulders, up his throat, until she was cupping his ruggedly handsome face.

  “You,” she purred, flicking her tongue over his upper lip. “I want you, James.” And she arched her hips higher in an attempt to show him just how much.

  With a muffled groan he took her mouth as his lower body rolled and they both gasped with delight when his cock slid so smoothly into her ready sheath so slowly and it seemed to just keep going. Either he was thicker then he looked, or he’d expanded since he had first dropped those wet britches. Whatever, the fit was almost painfully tight but Eliza felt deliciously full as she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist.

  “God, James,” she breathed, reveling in the feel of his broad, heavy frame crushing her into the soft bunk. “Only a pirate could feel this good.” His deep chuckle seemed to vibrate through her.

  She reached up blindly and hooked her hands up behind his shoulders, gripping on for dear life as, with a low growl, he slid out then torturously slowly back in.

  “Bloody hell woman,” he rasped against her lips. “Goddess Calypso, herself, couldn’t feel this incredible.”

  He propped himself up on his elbows his heated gaze meeting hers as he shifted slightly to get a better angle and with a primal grunt, thrust—hard. Eliza’s scream of “Fuck yes!” seemed to drive him on and he claimed her deep and hard. His gaze seeming to make her burn hotter even as her eyes fluttered closed she could still feel his eyes raking over her rapt face and the furious rise and fall of her breasts with every ragged breath she took.

  The pirate took her with an intoxicating long, hard, steady rhythm. She felt as though he wasn’t merely making love to her, he was truly taking her, mastering her, taming her to be his, and she knew as he did, that she was.

  Her body was on fire and each stroke took that rock hard cock deeper. Her keening cries seemed to come from someone else, surely not her. Eliza had never been this aroused or taken this strongly before. Every stroke seemed to drive her higher and she knew by his wild grunting groans that he was close.

  James’ head dropped to the pillow beside her own head and his hands tightened, bruisingly on her trembling thighs. His groans grew louder and his thrusts faster till she was overwhelmed by the speed, by the depth, god, by him—the huge wholly masculine pirate who had haunted her dreams and fantasies for so many years now.

  He shifted his angle again and she cried out as his body rubbed over her swollen clit so perfectly even as his cock filled her passage over and over. And she was there. Something seemed to explode from where their bodies joined and sweet fiery rapture coiled up through her belly and flowed through her arching body at almost terrifying speed.

  Soundlessly, her lips formed the words, “James, oh James…” over and over as her body stiffened and her pussy contracted, milking her pirate lover as he rode her climax till, with a strangled cry, he ploughed his pulsing cock deeper and held himself firmly in place.

  She flicked open her eyes and gasped at the sheer masculine beauty of him. Eyes closed and his long lashes quivering against his cheeks. His back arched perfectly giving her an all too exciting view of his broad muscular chest, and his mouth fell wide, the sides slightly upturned as he came hard and for longer then she had thought possible then collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath.

  “Ellie, God’s teeth, wench.” Was all he managed before rolling to the side so they could lay side by side while their heartbeats and breathing calmed.

  * * * *

  James propped himself on his elbow and looked down at the strange woman who now breathed shallowly in her sleep. She was like no-one he had ever met and certainly different to every other doxy. She seemed experienced in the art of passion and yet there was innocence to her that he couldn’t help but find endearing.

  Somehow laying with her had felt more intimate and somehow familiar, and god help him, but he couldn’t remember one single time when coupling had felt that good.

  That was another problem. She spoke unlike anyone, man or wench that he had conversed with. Words he didn’t recognize, clothes that he had never seen and knew would be reviled by anyone who saw them...Well almost anyone, he had the feeling that the crew would enjoy the pleasure of seeing her in the outfit. He made a mental note to dispose of it first thing in the morning.

  His mind drifted back to her words again, he had enjoyed bantering with her very much, her soft, slightly husky voice arousing his body just as it caressed his mind. But…

  “Oh stop that, I may be two hundred years in the past but surely you have some form of underpants.”

  He had played along at the time, enjoying teasing the wench and somehow intrigued by her story. Was she insane? And if so what did that make him? Taking advantage of a woman while she seems to be sick in the brain was not even moderately honourable, and made him feel ill at the thought that he may have taken her against her will.

  Like Caroline.

  His stomach clenched at the thought. No! This wasn’t the same as Caroline. Eliza was strange, yes but she had been in her right mind when she dug her fingernails into his back and begged him to make love to her. That sweet mewing voice in his ear, urging him on, begging him for more. The memory danced through his mind and wound tightly around his cock and he moaned when he felt it stiffen again.

  He rolled her gently away and wrapped himself around her, his hard cock resting against her tender sex and his arms possessive around her waist. No doubt she would be sore so he didn’t try to wake her, content to simply hold her this way. He was smiling when his eyes drifted closed and sleep took him.

  Chapter 3

  A soft knocking on the door awakened Eliza from her strange, slightly disturbing dream. Her eyes flickered open then shut tightly against the sting of the sunlight.

  And the knocking continued. Three raps, pause, three raps, pause. Bloody hell, that was annoying.

  She threw the blankets aside, gasped at the cold and pulled them back over her naked body...Naked body?

  “I don’t sleep naked, why the hell am I naked?” she hissed and looked around wide eyed.

  The room looked familiar but not in that good, I’m back in Kansas, way. Nipping her lip she looked ominously at the door. The rapping sound came.

  “Francis?” she called tentatively and cringed when the little man poked his head around the door.

  “Fuck!” she muttered and cringed again when he looked af
fronted.

  “No need for language like that miss,” he said solemnly and plodded in, head down and obviously averting his eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” She pulled the blanket up around her throat and gave him a sheepish smile. “I was just hoping that…”

  “I know, I know. But the captain is a busy man. Sure he‘ll pop back in an hour or so though.”

  “What!?” she cried, outraged and only just catching the blanket in time before it dropped as she jumped out of bed. “I’m not sitting here waiting for him, and that was not the reason I was upset.”

  But as she looked around the room and at the empty bed she couldn’t help but feel miffed that he hadn’t at least woken her before he left. “Good morning, thanks for the sex, feel free to leave any time.” she mumbled and roughly shoved back the tinge of hurt that edged her words.

  Well there were three things she knew for certain: One, last night was not a dream. Two, she was indeed two hundred years in the past. Three, if she was stuck in this time, there was no way she would live her life as a doxy.

  Eliza almost screamed when Francis cleared his throat, having forgotten he was there.

  “Begging your pardon miss,” he started with that touch of fear she had heard last night. “But the captain asked me to tell you that the outfit you were wearing last night has been burned and thrown overboard and that you are to wear this.” He held out a full length, brown dress, with frills and what looked like a bow—and what had he said about her clothes?

  “He what!?” Was all she managed to get out before the man dropped the dress on the bed and scampered out the door. “And you’d better not lock that…” She groaned when she heard the lock click into place.

  Well she would be damned if she sat and waited for that strategically shaved gorilla to come and take advantage of her again. With a determined gleam in her eyes Eliza picked up the dress and glowered at the offensive article briefly before moving to James’ trunk. She pulled out a pair of britches, a white shirt, and then turned her attention to the locked door.