Sylvia Day - Bad Boys Ahoy!

And damned if he didn't want to do it again. Immediately.

Sebastian rose onto his elbows and gazed down at Olivia's beautiful face, flushed with his passion. He almost inquired if she was well, but the dazed look in her eyes answered the unspoken question. His expression most likely mirrored hers.

Placing a swift, hard kiss against her parted lips, he untangled his limbs from hers. Olivia was all heat and desire, a fiercely passionate woman who, even in her innocence, had pleasured him almost beyond bearing. Untried and unschooled, she hadn't the guile to hide her response or to play any games. He'd felt wanted, needed, in a way no one had ever made him feel before.

Staring at her taut belly, shiny with his seed, Sebastian was swept with an overwhelming wave of possessiveness. He wanted to mark her like this everywhere, brand her completely, so that no other man would ever touch her. Her drowsy eyes followed him with such warmth it took his breath away. The way she looked at him, her palpable panic when he'd slipped on the rigging-how long had it been since anyone had cared for his welfare? So long ago he could scarcely remember it. Only his gratefulness for her tender regard had prevented her complete ruination.

Sebastian ached at the thought of returning her to her father, wishing he could spirit her away and keep her safe from the choices of his past, choices that made it impossible for them to ever be together. Never before had he regretted anything he'd done. Now he regretted it all.

"I'd offer you the bath," she murmured, "but the water is certainly cold by now."

Looking at the small hip bath, he smiled. "It's perfect. Thank you."

He retrieved a towel from the washstand and dipped it in the cold water. Then he went to her and cleansed his lust from her body, his cock hardening again as her nipples puckered under his touch. Olivia was so small compared to him, such tiny, sweetly curved perfection. And he'd rutted upon her like an animal.

Cursing silently, Sebastian turned from the arousing sight of her and quickly stripped from his breeches. With a soft hiss, he sank into the chilled water. He glanced at his wife, biting back a grin as she slid from the tabletop and looked modestly at the wall.

"Aren't you curious to see the part of me that you so recently pleasured?" he asked.

She blushed. Keeping her eyes averted, Olivia moved to her trunks, holding the ruined gown against her swollen nipples. She was a ravishing vision, and his body was already eager for a repeat performance. Sebastian scrunched down in the too-small tub and concentrated on the chilly temperature of the water to cool his blood. It was a testament of paternal love that fresh water was set aside for this purpose.

He frowned when she pressed a bar of fine, French-milled soap into his hand. Scented of musk and bergamot, it was definitely a masculine toilet item.

"Why do you have a man's soap?" he asked sharply.

Damnation. He was jealous!

Some of the afterglow faded from her eyes. "'Tis my father's favorite. One more or less will not be missed." She turned away, but not before he caught the hurt evident on her delicate features.

Sebastian almost apologized, and then reconsidered. It was best if Olivia did not come to care for him, a circumstance made more likely by the intense passion they'd just shared. Distance had to be created between them-for both their sakes. Apparently, he had a fondness for this woman-his wife-that was too threatening to even consider.

Rushing the rest of his bath, Sebastian dressed in silence, eager to flee the intense feelings Olivia engendered. On his way out, he paused in the doorway. "A few of the crewmen will be down shortly to dump the tub water. I'll order more to be heated for you. For God's sake, don't shoot anyone. It will take some time…"

"I understand. Thank you." She remained intensely focused on straightening the already orderly contents of her trunk.

He stared at her stiffened spine and couldn't hold back the feelings that twisted and writhed inside him. He clenched his jaw, forcibly withholding the reassurances she obviously wanted, and deserved, to hear. Only minutes ago they'd shared a blinding closeness, and now they were no more than awkward strangers. Instead of bringing ease from his restless agitation, the gulf between them ripped him deeply.

Miserable, he left without a word, the door shutting behind him with an unmistakable click of finality.

Olivia woke to the feel of a steady breeze. From the rolling view outside the windows, she knew they'd raised sail. She looked around the room and found herself alone. Phoenix had not returned the evening before, nor, it appeared, after she'd retired for the night.

There was a knock at the door, and her heart leapt as she rushed to answer it, eager to see Phoenix again. Instead it was Maggie who stood there. The abigail entered with a bright smile, unaware of her mistress's disappointment.

Olivia tried to hold her tongue, but her curiosity won out. "Have you seen Captain Phoenix about today?"

"Aye," Maggie said with a cheerful lilt. "Early this morning, before he went with the Seawitch. We're on our way, milady. The crew said we should put into port in Barbados within a few days."

The Seawitch. Olivia's heart plummeted into her stomach. Phoenix had moved to her father's ship to get away from her, that was painfully obvious. Her face heated with embarrassment. He most likely thought her the worst sort of wanton. And hadn't she been?

Wretched, she shook her head. She'd been mindless with desire, but the pirate certainly had not felt the same. He'd had the presence of mind to keep her maidenhead intact, a circumstance that said clearly he did not desire to take her as his wife. He would escort her to England, obtain his annulment, and sail off without looking back. She, on the other hand, would spend her days pining for the husband she hadn't wanted, only to discover he was all she wanted.

Olivia spent the three days it took to reach Barbados ensconced in Phoenix's cabin. Bored and crying miserably every time she remembered her abandoned behavior, she resorted to snooping to distract herself. Rifling through his drawers, desk, and cupboards, she found ribbon-bound letters from the Marquess of Dunsmore addressed to Sebastian Blake. She found legal documents that bore his seal and wanted posters displaying his alias. She'd strongly suspected, of course, or she would never have given her favors so freely. But by the end of the three days, she had no doubt.

She was married to a pirate. The thought thrilled her.

Now she needed to discover a way to keep him.

Sebastian waited for Olivia at the bottom of the gangplank with deplorable impatience. He hadn't seen her in a sennight, and that was a sennight too long in his estimation. Before moving to the Seawitch, he'd ordered Will to secure lodgings for her at the local inn when they docked, certain she would relish the opportunity to sleep in a bed after spending three nights in his hammock. She had probably been exhausted. He knew he was. Her cabin on the Seawitch had been hell on earth, a decadent room showcasing a massive, velvet-draped four-poster bed.

The nights had been torturous, the silk sheets infused with her scent, a lingering redolence that burned through his blood. He'd dreamed of her naked and spread beneath him, his aching cock thrust deep inside her body, a ripe nipple trapped between his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

The overwhelming need to fuck had forced him into town to find a lusty wench. He'd found several, fondled a few, kissed a couple, and left them all. Not even the most skilled whore could kiss like Olivia, who kissed him as if she would die if she couldn't have him.

He was quite simply mad for her, thoroughly besotted.

Sebastian rolled his shoulders, attempting to ease the tension there. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked toward the inn, immediately grateful for the cane he affected. It supported his buckling knees when his wife came into view.

The entire town seemed to freeze, the bustling noises fading into obscurity until only the cry of seagulls remained. The crowd parted, revealing Olivia's golden beauty as she strolled toward him. Her rich tresses were piled atop her head-careless, artless curls tumbling in studious disarray. Her taupe-colored gown was of the finest silk, shimmering in the island sun like light on rippling water. It showcased her full breasts, tiny waist, and creamy skin to perfection. She wore a broad, feathered hat at a jaunty angle that shielded most of her face from his view, but revealed the full red mouth that had ruined him for any other. He was speechless, breathless, agonizingly aroused at the mere sight of her. Olivia was a diamond of the first water. And for the moment, she was his diamond.

For the first time in his life, Sebastian was grateful to his father.

During the last several sleepless nights, unable to keep her from his thoughts, he'd contemplated their present circumstances. Olivia wanted to maintain their marriage, if he could prove his identity. He collected that the benefits of such a union would be numerous for both of them. She deserved better than him, of course. He'd tried to tell her. If she insisted on having him, what fool would he be to cast her aside? He was not a foolish man. Reckless and selfish perhaps, but certainly not foolish.

The vision that was his wife stopped before him, and to his amazement, she dropped into a curtsy so low her forehead would have touched the dirt if not for the brim of her hat. Sebastian scowled. What in hell was she doing?

"My lord," she murmured in deference.

The town immediately resumed its frenzied activity.

Reaching down, he yanked Olivia to her feet. She shielded her eyes from him with her hat, a meek gesture that was not in keeping with her fiery nature. He wanted, with a soul-deep need, to see her lovely eyes and look upon her beautiful face. Annoyed with her behavior, Sebastian spoke harshly. "What is the matter with you?"

It wasn't possible, and yet her head dropped even lower, until all he could see was the top of her blasted hat.

"I apologize if I have displeased you again, my lord. I meant no offense."

Again? What the devil was she talking about?

Sebastian gripped her elbow and dragged her up the gangplank, not stopping until they reached her cabin, where he thrust her in first and slammed the door shut behind them. Frustrated by her hat, he removed the offending article and tossed it aside. Her lovely visage was revealed to him, as well as her tears. Immediately, he felt contrite. He was a cad.

"What ails you?" he queried, drawing her into his embrace. Olivia stood stiffly for a heartbeat before melting into him.

"You're angry with me."

"No," he denied, his hands stroking the curve of her spine. "I'm confused."

She buried her face in his chest and sobbed. "You think I'm a wanton."

His confusion remained, but his mouth curved against her hair. "Perhaps a little."

She sobbed louder.

"But I like it," he amended hastily.

"You don't!" she argued in a muffled voice. "You left me so I wouldn't throw myself at you again. And I won't. Never again, I vow."

Ah! Sebastian grinned like an idiot.

He kept his voice low and soothing. "I'd have ravished you further, Olivia, if the ocean hadn't been between us. You were distraught. Your ship was attacked, you were abused, and your husband was revealed to be a criminal. It would have been dishonorable of me to take your body under those conditions. Bad enough I took the liberties I did."

She struggled away from him, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"You are not an honorable man! You said so yourself. You refused to marry a woman you compromised, and yet the woman to whom you are married is left a virgin." She stomped a slippered foot. "I am not a fool! Admit the truth."

"The truth?" He arched a brow. "As you wish, sweeting. The truth is, I want you desperately. I want to take your lush body, spread it beneath me, and ride you until you can't move. I want to breech your precious maidenhead and ruin you for any other man. I want to hear you moan my name while you come around my cock. I want to fill you with my seed over and over again, until you think of nothing but me and how well I can pleasure you."

Eyes wide, her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip. "Good heavens."

"Heaven," he purred. "Yes, I suspect it will be."

"It is your right to… to do those things… if you truly want to. I am your wife."