Chapter Six
Constantine didn’t see the Ligeia depart from Perranporth mid-morning. At least, that was what Lucifer and Kerk assumed. The boat had departed from the sandy shore and the only people who saw it depart were those tending the vessels where they were anchored on the beach. Kerk gave an excuse to those men as to why the small, light ship had departed with a crew of six on the deck and ten down below, rowing steadily against the tide. No one questioned Kerk and no one cared, and by the time Constantine was ready to depart by noon, the departure of the Ligeia had been forgotten.
Now, the Gaia and the Persephone were quickly being prepared for sea again and the last of the provisions had been loaded on, including enough gunpowder to ensure they would be ready for whatever they encountered along the coast. With Kerk and Augustin on the Persephone, Constantine boarded the Gaia with Lucifer and Remy.
There was a great deal of shouting and moving about from the men on the sandy beach as the crews boarded their vessels. Usually, the men walked out to the waist-deep water to climb the rope ladders up to the deck but, given that they had a woman with them and also that they had horses with them, they moved the ship in as close as they could before bringing out a ramp that went right up to the deck at a fairly steep angle. Constantine was already on board, waiting for Gregoria when she came up the ramp.
The wind was whipping about and the gulls cried overhead. There was always a sense of excitement before the ships put out to sea. Once Gregoria was on the deck, Constantine took her bag in one hand and her in the other, and escorted her over to the captain’s quarters beneath the poop deck where she would be lodged for the duration of the journey. All around them, men were preparing the ship, shouting instructions or commands to each other, and the sails began to lift. Down below at water level, oars went into the water.
Since the Gaia was modified with a gun deck in the middle of the ship and then a storage/sleeping/rowing deck below that in the bilge of the ship, an assortment of captives were brought on board and sent below deck, chained to the rowing station and supervised by the row master, a very mean man from Italy. Constantine paid him well and the man kept the captives rowing, healthy or not. He beat a cadence for the rowers while the horses that had been brought shipboard gathered near the bow of the ship, munching on the piles of grass that had been brought for them.
It was a crowded hold.
But Gregoria didn’t see the captives as they were brought on board. She was more interested in everything else that was going on around her and where Constantine was taking her.
The Gaia was a big ship with a wide deck but the structure of the ship narrowed dramatically towards the waterline to make the boat faster. Somehow, Constantine’s dogs had made it on board, and Henry and Edward rushed past her as they neared the captain’s quarters, charging through the door and into the chamber beyond.
Given what Gregoria had seen of not only Constantine’s solar but of the great hall the previous night when they had supped with the other men, she wasn’t surprised to see how luxurious the quarters were – there was a beautiful wooden bed, carved with goddesses and gods of mythology, silken bed coverlets, fine crystal decanters, and comfortable chairs around a very heavy, well-made table. The floor sloped slightly, as did the walls, giving the chamber a slightly vertiginous feeling, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, Gregoria was fascinated by it. As the dogs jumped onto the beautiful bed and made themselves comfortable, Gregoria turned to Constantine.
“These are your quarters, my lord?” she asked.
Constantine nodded, opening the windows at the rear of the cabin, overlooking the rudder. A cool sea breeze immediately filled the cabin.
“Indeed,” he said. “Make yourself comfortable here, for this shall be your cabin until we reach Wales.”
Gregoria looked around the beautiful chamber, the most beautiful chamber she had ever seen. “Thank you, my lord,” she said appreciatively. Then, she focused on him. “In fact, thank you for everything. You have granted everything I have asked for, including departing so quickly, and I feel as if I can never repay you for your generosity. You have such a big ship and there are so many men upon it… I feel as if I have inconvenienced everyone, but I thank you just the same.”
Constantine’s hazel eyes glimmered at her. After their initial meeting yesterday and then supper later than evening where he had hardly been able to speak with her because his men had been around, he went to bed feeling more interest in the woman than he’d ever had in almost any woman he’d ever met. He wasn’t entirely sure why. Certainly, she was lovely, and she had a soft, deep speaking tone that was like warm honey to his ears. But beyond the looks and her voice, was her manner in general. She appeared downtrodden somehow and that was of great curiosity to him.
There was something sad about the woman, lingering just below the surface.
Certainly, the death of a husband and a massive burden would weigh heavily upon one but, to Constantine, it seemed there was something more to it. They were about to put to sea for a few days and he had every intention of coming to know the woman and discovering why she seemed so beaten. It would be at least two or three days to the shores of Wales, to the cove of Eynon where they would drop anchor and travel inland. After that, Three Crosses Abbey, as he recalled, was about a day’s travel from the shore. So, in truth, Constantine knew he would have very little time with her. He wanted to make what time he did have with her count and that would start as soon as the Gaia went to sea.
To say he had an ulterior motive with the lady was an understatement. She wanted something from him… and he was going to take something from her.
“You have not inconvenienced anyone,” he said after a moment, his gaze lingering on her before heading towards the cabin door. “Actually, you have given me an excuse to put to sea again. I become too restless upon land and most of my men feel the same way, so you have done us a favor.”
Gregoria forced a smile, wondering if it was the truth. “I am pleased to hear it,” she said. “When shall we reach Wales?”
He had his hand on the elaborate bronze door latch. “In two days, with good winds and calm seas,” he said. “After that, it should only take a day to reach the abbey.”
“Do you know where it is?”
“I know approximately where it is. Have no fear that we shall find it.”
“You do not do much traveling on land, do you?”
He grinned, flashing that white smile and big dimple in his left cheek. “It makes me ill to travel on land,” he said, teasing her. “Some men become sick with the motion of the sea, but I become sick with no motion on land. It is a terrible sight.”
Gregoria giggled, her smile turning real. “I hope it does not come to that, my lord.”
He waved her off. “Be assured that I will not humiliate myself in front of you,” he said. “Now, settle in. I must see to my men. But I shall return once we are at sea. Which reminds me… do not leave this cabin for any reason. The men that staff this vessel are killers and worse, and they may look at you as an opportunity. Is that clear?”
“It is, my lord.”
“Bolt this door when I go. Open it for no one but me or Lucifer or Remy. You met them last night. Do you recall?”
“I do, my lord.”
“Good. Then settle in and I shall return.”
Gregoria nodded, watching him leave the chamber and quickly rushing to the door, throwing the bolt as she’d been instructed. Then, she stood there a moment, hardly believing they were actually on the ship and that le Brecque was actually on his way to Wales.
In fact, ever since her meeting with him yesterday, the situation had moved so rapidly and she was coming to feel as if this were all a dream. Never did she imagine her plea to le Brecque would have been accepted so quickly and without suspicion. The man had been more than willing to help her, all for the sake of Miles Tenby. The information that Lord Wembury had paid for had been worth the cost, many times over. The name Miles Tenby had worked like magic with le Brecque, as they hoped it would.
Now, they were going to sea. Coming away from the door, Gregoria looked over the gorgeous room, thinking that it looked very much like a woman had decorated it. Perhaps a woman had. In any case, she was here and they were on their way to Wales… where one thousand of the Earl of March’s troops would be waiting for them.
Waiting for Constantine.
Gregoria hadn’t cared about betraying the pirate le Brecque when she became part of Lord Wembury’s plot. She still didn’t particularly care. All she cared about was doing as she’d been instructed and receiving her house and garden, as her brother had promised. Constantine was bringing men with him, that was true, but they would be nothing against March’s troops. Unless Constantine surrendered, it would be a slaughter. But it was the man’s own fault… he’d been too trusting of her story.
Fortunately, for her.
Moving over to the bed, she timidly petted Edward’s big head as he lifted it and wagged his tail. She rather liked the dogs; perhaps she could take them with her to her little house by the sea where they could frolic in the garden and forget their lives as the dogs of a pirate.
… a pirate…
There was something in her that was begging her to feel some guilt in all of this, guilt that she was about to lead a man to his doom. Such a handsome man, too. Other than their initial discussion yesterday, she hadn’t much time to really talk to him. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. She already thought he was wildly handsome but if she came to like him, too, then that could mean trouble. So early in the plot, she didn’t need any complications. The less she knew of Constantine le Brecque, and the less she spoke to him, the better it would be.
She didn’t want to like the man she was helping to kill.
Gregoria began to fight off those thoughts of guilt and betrayal as the Gaia finally weighed anchor and pushed away from the white, sandy beach. She was watching the ocean beyond her open windows, with the salt spray and gulls crying overhead. It was really very beautiful and the soft sway of the boat had a soothing quality. Much like being rocked in a mother’s arms. The boat turned around, slowly, and she soon found herself watching the shoreline as it grew more and more distant, and the sea beneath them became a dark, crystal blue.
Given that this was the first time she’d been to sea, Gregoria found it all rather exciting. It was all so fresh and new. On the deck above, she could hear men calling out commands, or calling out to each other over the hiss of the wind and sea. She couldn’t hear much but she knew there was a great deal happening on the main deck and she leaned her head out to hear more clearly what was going on. The wind drowned out the words, however, and they simply became sounds she couldn’t make out, so she pulled her head back in and stood at the window, watching the sea pass beneath them. It was astonishingly peaceful, something timeless and serene about it. Now, she could understand what Constantine meant about being restless on land.
At sea, there was something that fed one’s primal soul.
A knock on the door roused her from her thoughts and she quickly turned from the window, remembering what Constantine had told her. Open it for no one except me or Lucifer or Remy. Heart pounding with a bit of apprehension, she made her way hesitantly towards the door.
“Who comes?” she demanded.
“’Tis me, my lady,” came the muffled voice. “It is Con.”
Somehow, the sound of his voice and the mention of his name made her racing heart beat even faster, but for a different reason this time. Was it actually possible she might be happy to see him? Quickly, she raced to the door and yanked it open. Constantine flashed her his white-toothed smile as he pushed into the cabin, shutting the door behind him.
“If the weather remains like this, we should see Wales by late tomorrow,” he said. “I’ve ordered top speed.”
Gregoria had no way of knowing that it was a lie; he hadn’t ordered top speed at all. He specifically told his men to slow the pace of the travel, all of this so he could spend more time with Gregoria. But, alas, Gregoria was oblivious to his intent. She simply smiled in return.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said, realizing he was looking at her with a good deal of interest in his expression and it was something that made her nervous. She turned away. “I… I have never been to sea before. This is all very new to me.”
Constantine followed her like a hunter tracking prey as she moved towards the big windows that overlooked the rudder. “I thought you said your husband was a merchant.”
Gregoria reached the windows. “He was,” she said. “But he purchased good from ships. He did not go to sea himself.”
“He did not own vessels?”
She shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “But he had men he purchased from regularly. Some of them were no better than pirates themselves, the way they sold questionable items and… oh… I did not mean to say that. Forgive me.”
Constantine leaned against the open windowsill, smiling at her. “You have said nothing untrue,” he said. “I’ve known enough merchants in my time to agree with you. In fact, my father was a merchant.”
Her eyes widened, surprised. “Was he?” she said. “He was not a pirate, too?”
Constantine laughed softly. “My father was a well-to-do merchant based in Newquay,” he said. “He had a fleet of many vessels and the family had been in the business of sailing and goods exchange for several generations. That is how I first came to know the sea.”
Gregoria was interested. “But you did not follow the family tradition?”
His smile faded and he wriggled his eyebrows. “Regrettably, I did not,” he said. “Although I’d meant to. A mistake on my part led me to quite another path in life.”
“You mean that you accidentally became a pirate?”
His smile was back and he chuckled, looking out over the ocean. “Nay,” he said. “I did not accidentally fall into this line of work. It was a choice, more or less. But if you must know, years ago a woman I was betrothed to told me that a pirate named Shaw MacDougall had murdered her brother and begged me to exact revenge. Of course, being young and foolish and in love, I did as she asked me. As it turned out, MacDougall did not kill her brother – she was simply trying to get me killed because she was carrying on an affair with another man. Being that we were betrothed, if I died, she would inherit money from me simply because of the contract between us. I did not kill MacDougall when I discovered the woman’s plan, but I did kill her lover, the man she had forsaken me for. He was from a well-placed family and a price was put on my head, but my father wouldn’t help me. In fact, he disowned me.”
Gregoria was genuinely surprised to hear his tale. “That is terrible,” she said. “But how did you become a pirate?”
Constantine looked at her, then, a half-smile on his lips. “Because the one person who did not disown me was the very man I’d been sent to kill,” he said. “Shaw MacDougall may be the prince of all pirates, carrying on a great and dark legacy, but he is also a man of loyalty and understanding. He saw what had happened and how’d I’d been duped. I swore my oath to him and captained one of his vessels for a time. But when my father died shortly after he disowned me, I inherited all of his wealth and his merchant ships. He’d never changed his will. I became a pirate in my own right, now allied with MacDougall rather than being subservient to him. In fact, I am far richer than he could ever hope to be, much to his displeasure. But we are brothers to the bone.”
It was an interesting tale, one that gave Gregoria more insight into the man, which was exactly what she hadn’t wanted to do. Now, she was feeling some sympathy for him as she understood his path to a life of piracy.
“MacDougall,” she murmured pensively. “I seem to have heard that name, haven’t I?”
Constantine nodded. “If you have lived near the sea, or have had dealings with merchant vessels, then you have surely heard of him,” he said. “He is a pirate prince, literally, adopted by the last in a long line of pirate princes, dating back hundreds of years to a man named Arthur MacAlpin. Shaw is a pirate in every sense of the word, but he and I have something most pirates lack.”
She cocked her head curiously. “What is that?”
“Honor.”
Gregoria’s gaze lingered on the man. She was becoming increasingly enamored with him, whether or not she realized it. He had an oddly gentle way about him, completely unexpected from a man with such a reputation, and when he spoke of honor… there was no doubt in Gregoria’s mind that he knew what it meant.
“That is not a word usually associated with piracy,” she said, “yet you speak as if you understand it.”
He lifted his eyebrows, slowly inching in her direction. In fact, he’d been inching in her direction for the past few minutes, only she hadn’t noticed because she hadn’t moved away. He’d been so discreet about it that she hadn’t even realized he was trying to close the distance between them.
“I do understand it,” he said, his voice quietly. “I was trained as a knight. I fostered in the finest houses until I was of age and then I was knighted by my master. But I never really had the opportunity to use my skills because the incident with MacDougall came shortly thereafter and I have been at sea ever since. But one does not forget honor, not even when one lives the life of a pirate.”
Gregoria was coming to think that there was far more to Constantine le Brecque than met the eye, but in a good sense. This was no mindless, blood-thirsty pirate. This was a man of insight and feeling. She found herself wanting to dig deeper, to know more about him, because everything she knew about him had been relayed to her by Lord Wembury.
There were always two sides to every story, and to every reputation.
“Was your father a lord, then?” she asked. “How is it possible that you trained as a knight if your father was of the merchant class?”
There was a very good reason for that but Constantine wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her. It wasn’t something he spoke of. Still, it wasn’t like it was a secret. His true parentage had been common knowledge among the nobility for years.
“You do not know?” he asked. “You have not heard the truth about me?”
“What is the truth?”
The corner of his mouth twitched, hinting at a smile. “That I am the bastard son of a king,” he said. “I was born the year of my father’s coronation and I fostered in the finest houses because that is what my real father demanded. When I spoke of my father, the merchant, I was speaking of my adoptive father. His sister was my mother and that is why I bear the name le Brecque – it was her maiden name. She died after I was born and I was given over to her brother and his wife to raise.”
That was quite a bit of personal information he spoke freely of, either because he didn’t care who knew or because he was truly unconcerned that such information meant nothing at all. But for Gregoria, it was the most important of information – it was the very information that had an entire faction plotting to remove him. She couldn’t believe he seemed so unconcerned about something that would lead to his downfall. Was he truly so clueless to the fact? She almost wanted to shake him – do you not understand that there are those who want to kill you because of your royal blood?
But… no. She couldn’t say a word. She was committed to completing her task for Wembury, and for her brother, and she was committed to her house by the sea with the garden. That was all she wanted; to retire there and live in peace. She couldn’t worry about the pirate she was about to betray in order that she should receive her reward. It was what she had to do or she would never be able to live in peace.
Still… guilt was starting to make itself be known.
“’Tis a fascinating story, truly,” she said. “Which king do you claim as your father?”
Constantine’s grin broke through. “I am not fair like the Spanish, nor am I dark and dirty like the French,” he said. “You called me an earl when you first arrived at Perran, so surely you can answer your own question.”
She had asked for the earl last night. She’d forgotten that fact until he’d reminded her. She wondered if that slip wasn’t going to give her away and she scrambled to answer evenly. “My… my father told me that you were an earl,” she said. “I do not know your full title, but he’d mentioned it once. Did I do wrong by addressing you in such a way?”
He shrugged, lazily. “You did not,” he said. “It is not something I hear very much. But enough about me; I wish to know about you. We have not had much opportunity to speak other than the conversation we had last night. All I know about you is that you are Miles Tenby’s daughter and that you were married to a man named Meyrick. I wish to know more about you.”
Gregoria hadn’t expected that turn in conversation and she flushed, turning away from him when she realized that he was suddenly very close to her. His big body was brushing up against her right side and she took a step away, discreetly, to put distance between them, but Constantine quickly closed the gap.
“There is not much to tell,” she said, feeling the heat in her cheeks at his close proximity. “I was born, I grew up, and I was married for a very short time. I live modestly with… with my mother.”
She tried to move away again but Constantine snaked an arm around her waist, preventing her from moving away from him. His other hand came up, cupping her face as he gently kissed her cheek.
“Please tell me there is nothing modest about you,” he rumbled. “Please tell me that you are a woman of pleasure and leisure for, truly, a woman of your beauty is meant only for such things.”
She gasped when he kissed her, swiftly pulling away and ending up over by the bed. She stood there, panting, as Constantine went in pursuit. “I am not a woman of pleasure,” she said breathlessly. “Are you inferring that I am a… a…?”
“A whore?” Constantine finished for her, amused. The fact that she was running from him only seemed to feed his lust. “Lady, you are clearly not a whore. But with your luscious body and sweet face, you are made for a man’s pleasure. That is clear. And it seems to me that you are a lady who needs protection now that your husband is dead.”
Gregoria was growing faint as she realized what he was suggesting. He made a swipe for her but she moved away, out of range.
“I am not made for a man’s pleasure!” she gasped, outraged. “I have never… that is to say, my husband was the only man… he… no one else has ever touched me!”
It was a lie, but she was grasping at straws now, off-guard with Constantine’s pursuit. He could see he had her on the run but, as far as he was concerned, it was a feminine game to feed his want for her. She was toying with him and, like a fool, he was falling for it. The more she ran from him, the more he wanted her.
“That will change,” he said confidently. “My lady, you are without a husband now. I am offering you my home, my protection, and my bed. You shall never want for anything ever again, I swear it. Let us return this holy relic to Wales and start anew from there. You shall have a place of honor in my household and riches beyond your wildest dreams. Do you understand what I am offering you?”
Gregoria was shocked. Frightened, outraged, and shocked. But she was also flattered, and those emotions battled it out for supremacy as she tried to stay away from Constantine. The man had a terribly hungry look in his eye.
“I will not be your whore!” she said.
“I did not say whore. There are better words for it than that; some of the greatest women in the world were concubines or companions to great men.”
“Concubine?” she nearly shrieked. “That is nothing but a brood mare!”
Constantine was starting to laugh; he was also starting to close the gap between them. She had backed herself into a corner of the chamber and the only way out would be to run around him.
But he wouldn’t let that happen.
“Brood mares serve a purpose,” he said evenly. “I can only imagine what strong sons I would have from you.”
If Constantine wasn’t sure if she could become any more outraged with the conversation, he was wrong. She was quickly growing furious.
“Concubines are cheap, common women,” she scolded. “I am not cheap and I am not common. I resent you for suggesting it!”
He was nearly on her and when she realized that, she tried to move away but he grabbed her, shoving her back into the corner of the cabin and pinning her with his big body. One arm went around her to hold her tightly while the other hand began to roam. He buried his face in her neck, suckling at her flesh.
“I agree,” he purred against her flesh. “You are not common and you are not cheap. You are a fine, beautiful woman the likes of which I have never seen before and I must have you. Do you not realize how fine you are, Gregg? If your husband never told you, then the man was a fool. You should be told daily how fine and beautiful you are.”
Gregoria had never been kissed by a man like this, not ever. Constantine was holding her fast with one arm while the hand of his other held her head still, fingers intertwining in her hair as his lips moved up her neck and onto her shoulder. Hot, sweet kisses rained down on her flesh and now her heart was racing for an entirely different reason…
She liked it.
She liked his flesh against hers, his lips on her neck, her shoulder. She could feel his hot breath against her throat and it fanned flames within her that she never knew existed. Oh, God… was this what it meant to be kissed by a man? She was panting so heavily that she was growing faint with it, as if she couldn’t control herself or her resistance to his sensual onslaught.
And his hands…
Those big, strong, rough hands were holding her fast. His mouth was on her shoulder, nibbling on her flesh, and all of the protests on Gregoria’s tongue died right there in her throat. She couldn’t get them out because, frankly, she didn’t want to get them out. She couldn’t, in good faith, resist the man and his touch. She’d never known anything like it. Her body was growing limp, her knees like jelly and, suddenly, he was loosening the ties on the front of her bodice.
It was so fast and so skillfully done, that she hadn’t even noticed until he pulled on the bodice and her left breast sprang free. The same big hand that had been intertwined in her hair swiftly moved to that breast and his mouth along with it. He was suckling her nipple before she realized what had happened and her hands came up, slapping at his head, but it was a terribly weak gesture. Constantine released her torso and used that hand to pin her wrists above her head as he continued suckling her breast, now wet with his saliva. Using his teeth, he pulled away the rest of the bodice, freeing her right breast.
And then, he feasted.
Gregoria couldn’t have fought back had she wanted to. He had her pinned as his mouth moved between her breasts, suckling furiously. She could hear soft groans, realizing that they came from her as the man made her feel all shades of passion in his sensual onslaught. But Gregoria was a maiden and if things kept going the way they were, Constantine would find that out, too. She’d been saving that virginity for her husband, if she ever married, but the way her life was progressing, she doubted that would ever happen. Her brother wasn’t intent on finding her a husband; he’d never even suggested it.
She was destined to grow old alone.
But is this what it meant to have a husband? To be touched so tenderly, to have bolts of lightning shoot up your body when intimate parts were touched? To feel warm and safe and wanted? God, she couldn’t think at the moment.
All she could do was feel.
And feel, she did.
Suddenly, Constantine dropped her wrists and he hiked up her skirts, lifting her up and wedging himself in between her legs, which he’d pulled apart to straddle his hips. Gregoria was so far gone with what he was doing to her that it took her a moment to realize the position he’d put her in. She thought it had been for more kissing, more suckling but, in fact, that wasn’t what he had in mind. Before she could protest, or even think of a good excuse why this should not happen, she felt his manhood pressing on her tender woman’s center. He was rubbing himself on her, bathing himself in the wetness he’d created in her, preparing himself for entry.
She knew what was coming.
Oh, God, she thought with her last shred of coherency. It is happening!
It happened, indeed. Constantine gripped her by the buttocks and thrust forward, deep into her tight and virginal body. A sharp, searing pain rippled through Gregoria’s loins as she dropped her head, biting off her cry of pain in his shoulder, groaning softly as he thrust hard a second and a third time before being fully seated.
When he began to roll his hips, thrusting in and out of her, the sharp pain quickly evaporated, leaving a sensation that Gregoria could have never imagined in its place. Something warm, wet, and thrilling was happening now.
With Gregoria’s back against the wall of the cabin, Constantine held her buttocks against him, thrusting into her tight body but doing it in a way that he was also rubbing against her, pleasuring her. Gregoria was only focused on the junction between her legs where these miraculous sensations were taking place, not even considering the fact that, in spite of her protests, Constantine le Brecque had, indeed, taken what he wanted from her. He’d made her a whore, planting his manhood in her warm, wet recesses and pleasuring himself as men did.
But she hardly cared.
“Never has this felt so good,” Constantine murmured into her neck, biting at her flesh and causing her to gasp. “You were made for pleasure, lady. My pleasure.”
Gregoria couldn’t even answer him. He was sucking on her breasts again and, suddenly, the junction between her legs tightened up before she felt the release of such pleasure that she cried out with it. Stars were shooting all through her body and as she experienced her first climax, Constantine smiled faintly, kneading at her soft buttocks even as his own release rapidly approached.
“You are mine,” he whispered. “Do you understand me? Now, you are mine. Mayhap my seed shall find its mark and a strong, intelligent son shall be born from your body. Tell me you shall bear me a son.”
Gregoria was nearly incoherent. He was still moving in her body even as she tried to understand what had just happened, a spasm of the most amazing pleasure. Did he ask her a question?
“A… a…?” she stammered.
Constantine’s mouth came down on hers, kissing her deeply, his tongue filling her mouth and licking at her. Gregoria had no idea how to respond other than to let him do as he wished, because everything he’d done to her had given her the utmost pleasure for the most part. Like a fool, she simply let the man have his way in spite of her earlier protests. But as he kissed her passionately, he thrust hard into her and emitted a soft grunt, and she could feel his male member throbbing inside of her body. It was enough stimulation that she, too, experienced a second and lesser release, her entire body ripe with passion and excitement.
But Constantine continued to thrust into her, slowly now that the passion had died down, but there was still a wildfire blazing between them. Gregoria could feel it every time their bodies came together. There was heat between them that was beyond imagination.
“A son,” he whispered even as he kissed her. “A lad from your beautiful body. Tell me you shall bear my son.”
At this point, Gregoria was close to swooning. Her arms ended up around his neck, holding him for dear life because she was certain that if she did not hold on to him, she would slither to the floor and be lost forever. She held him tightly even as he moved away from the wall, still attached to her, and chased the dogs off the bed so he could lay her down. When he finally put her on the feather-stuffed mattress, he ended up beside her, holding her close as the ship rocked gently beneath them.
As they lay there in the languid midday, Constantine found himself reliving the past few minutes. He’d never before asked a woman to bear his son, so why now? There were strange forces at work, forces that had him more attracted to Gregoria than he’d ever been attracted to a woman in recent memory. His physical attraction to her was undeniable, but his emotional attraction… well, that scared him. He’d never asked a woman to bear his son before. There was a hint of permanence in that request, as if he’d finally found someone he thought worthy of such a thing.
Aye, that scared him a great deal.
He didn’t even know the woman, in truth. He’d had two conversations with her and, already, he’d bedded her. But it had been such an overwhelming need that it had been impossible for him to resist. He’d given in to it, just like he gave in to all of his whims.
But he was coming to wonder if she wasn’t a whim.
It was a strange situation, indeed.
Beside him, Gregoria began to snore softly and he realized the woman had fallen asleep. That was good because he really had no idea what to say to her. Usually, he had no problem with after-sex conversation but, this time, he was a bit tongue-tied. Something about this act had been… different. He didn’t know quite how, but it was. Therefore, he thought it best to leave her alone to sleep while he headed up to the deck.
He had a lot of thinking to do.
Carefully, he disengaged himself from her and rolled off the bed, standing up to secure his breeches. But he happened to look down as he did so and saw blood on his manhood. When he turned to the bed and carefully lifted her skirt, he could see that the blood was coming from her. It wasn’t particularly alarming – either she was on her woman’s cycle, or there was another answer that he found particularly curious.
She was a virgin.
Having clearly told him she had been married, it didn’t seem likely that she was a virgin. Unless she’d been lying, of course. And if she’d lied about that, what else had she lied about? Constantine wasn’t a fool; he knew he’d given in to her request easily. Too easily. He knew his men weren’t happy about it, but they had the sense not to confront him. He knew they worried for his safety, considering how many men would have loved to have seen Constantine le Brecque dead. But if Gregoria had been sent by his enemies, then they knew where to hit him where he was the weakest – with a beautiful woman.
And he’d fallen for it.
There was a good deal on Constantine’s mind when he left the cabin and quietly shut the door.