Chapter Seventeen

A man in his late sixties opened the door. He inclined his head, low enough that James caught a glimpse of the bald patch at the top, and waved them in.

The interior was as grand and lavish as the exterior with gleaming marble floors and crown moldings. Polished wood paneling glinted along the walls, accenting the diamonds dripping from the chandelier suspended in the heart of it all.

“Hello Leon,” Cora greeted.

“Good evening, Ms. Harris. Captain. May I take your coats?”

James helped Cora out of hers before shrugging out of his. The man took both in soft, pale hands.

Cora smiled at him. “Thank you. Where are my parents?”

“Your mother is in the parlor, Miss. Your father is in his study. Shall I get him?”

Cora shook her head. “It’s fine. We’ll find them.”

She thanked him again and started to the right of the sprawling foyer.

The lobby opened to a grand stairway that looped up to the second floor and three arched doorways in all four corners, not including the exit. Each one opened to a sprawling room draped in mute, homey tones and dark wood. Everything screamed professional, sophisticated, classy, but warm, confident, and loving. Definitely not the sort of place a monster should call home.

James had never owned a home. His parents never had either. They couldn’t afford to. But when they were gone, and even after he could have settled down anywhere in the world, James had never even considered the idea. He lived on his ship, year-round, anywhere in the world he wanted. Having a home on land had become irrelevant.

But he walked through Cora’s, taking in the tastefully hung pieces of art, the neat bleed of colors melting into each other to create different feels with every new room they passed, and tried to imagine her there as a child. Somehow, he couldn’t. It wasn’t a place for children. There were too many sharp corners, too much clean, too many expensive things that could be broken. Unless the place had been redone once Cora got older, but he doubted that.

He was taken to a parlor with bookshelves for walls and a mahogany set up surrounding an antique fireplace. A bar in glossy onyx was built into the opposite wall and mirrored the sophisticated, but powerful leather and dark wood motif. It complimented the red afghan draped the length of the room.

The house of a predator.

“Cora.”

Elise rose from her place on the sofa, her movements graceful and agile. Her baby pink skirts rustled against the soft leather. The color reminded James of Cora’s ass after a spanking. It pulled an unwarranted grin from him.

“Captain?”

He quickly jerked his gaze away from her legs and focused on her face.

“Thank you for having us, Ms. Harris.”

Elise smiled as she drew closer. “Elise, please.” She pivoted her gaze to her daughter. “Everything all right? You seem a bit ... flushed.”

James bit the inside of his cheek.

“The car was warm,” Cora mumbled.

Elise hummed, but made no further attempts to prod. “Come sit. Your father’s just finishing up some paperwork and Sal should be here shortly—”

“Uncle Sal’s coming?” Cora interrupted.

“Of course. The entire family has been calling me almost every day wanting to know when they can see you.” She picked her way around the glass coffee table to her spot. “But your father has had everyone under strict orders to wait until you were situated before bombarding you.”

Cora took the sofa opposite her mother and sat, her small hands running under her backside to smooth her skirt before her ass touched the leather. James frowned, but said nothing as he joined her.

“How is everyone?” she asked.

Elise gave a dainty little shrug. “Worried. Relieved. Anxious. They all really want to see you, which is why I was thinking of throwing a little party, family, close friends only. A ... welcome home, type of thing. Maybe even an engagement...?” she hedged slowly, lips curled in a little grimace.

“Mom.” Cora chuckled. “You can’t have an engagement party after you’re already married.”

Elise frowned. “Says who? Besides, you don’t honestly think this is how I’m expected to accept this, do you? I want a wedding!”

Cora shifted. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I don’t know if that’s—”

“It’s a great idea,” James cut in.

Both women turned to him as if just remembering he was there.

“Really?” Both said on unison.

James shrugged. “Can’t deprive your mom of a wedding, can we?”

Elise squealed, delighted. Her tiny hands clapped once before bunching together in her excitement.

“This is wonderful!” She bounced to her feet. “I’m going to go grab your father, or he’ll just stay in that office the rest of the night.”

Her heels cracked in hurried sprints out the door. They heard it echoing off the walls in the corridor and fading the further she went.

Cora started turning to him. “Are you sure—?”

James swooped off the cushion before Cora could finish speaking. He went on one knee in front of her and pried her thighs apart.

“James!”

Her horrified gasp went ignored as he yanked her to him, yanked her forward on the very edge of the sofa. Her legs were thrown over the crooks of his arms.

“Lift your skirt.”

“You can’t ... not here...”

He flipped her skirt up over her stomach himself, exposing the lacy panties and her beautifully swollen sex. One bent finger dragged the material aside, opening her to the mouth he immediately closed over her clit and the fingers he hooked inside her.

“Yes!”

Cora’s head dropped back with a half sob, half groan. Her back arched as he devoured her, as he lashed his tongue inside her and cleaned her walls. He made a mess of her already soppy core, soaking her with his saliva and her own fluids. He sucked and fingered her right until the very last second, right before her thighs stiffened on either side of his head.

He stopped and pulled back to watch the erratic flutter of her pussy as it struggled to come and couldn’t. Her slit leaked in a clear, sticky trickle over the tight pucker of her ass and pooled in the leather beneath her.

He touched it, just one fingertip pressing lightly against her back entrance. He circled it, smearing it with moisture.

“Jesus...” Her emotional wail was muffled behind the hands she mashed into her face. “I can’t ... I can’t take this anymore.”

“You can.” He followed the thin patch of skin joining anus to vagina and sank back inside her. Just one finger this time. “You don’t have a choice.”

Finger glistening, he lifted it to her lips and let her suck it clean.

Only then did he regain his spot on the sofa, leaving her to right herself, to drag her skirt back around her trembling thighs. She grimaced as she shifted to a proper position.

“My seat is all wet.”

He caught her wrist when she reached for a Kleenex from the box on the end table next to her.

“Leave it.”

Her pulse jumped beneath his fingertips. Her cheeks turned scarlet, mirroring the irregular strain of her breasts rising and falling against the front of her dress.

“You’re a sick...”

He raised an eyebrow. “Fuck? Bastard? Lover?” He skimmed a hardened nipple with the pad of his thumb, making her lashes flutter. “I’ve been called worse.”

She never got the chance to reply when Elise returned with De Marco in tow.

James rose, a show of respect to her, but inclined his head once to the other man.

“Mr. De Marco.”

“Captain.” De Marco took the spot next to his wife, across from James and Cora. His gaze shifted to his daughter. “Are you sick?”

“I’m just warm,” Cora mumbled, sitting a bit too stiffly.

“Are you sure?” James prompted darkly, toying with her by scooting closer until their shoulders bumped.

One hand slipped around the back of her waist while the other lifted to touch her face lightly with his knuckles. The skin felt scalding hot where the blood blazed the brightest in her cheek, but it was nothing compared to the warning in her eyes.

He met it with a subtle slip of his palm over her hips, along the curve of her ass to glide beneath the fabric of her bunched skirt.

Her eyes widened in horror, but his finger had already slithered into the crack of her ass.

“Cora?” he prompted, circling her back entrance.

He added just a touch of pressure.

“Fine!” she blurted. “I’m fine.” Breathing hard, she quickly faced her parents. “Are ... are we having drinks before ... before ... before...?”

“Supper?” he supplied huskily, rubbing her lightly.

She swallowed audibly, but said nothing.

She wouldn’t.

What could she possibly say?

That he was fingering her ass?

That she was leaving a stain on the rich leather?

That he’d eaten her pussy and nearly made her come right where she sat?

No.

She wasn’t going to say anything.

“I can make drinks,” Elise volunteered. “What would you like, Captain?”

“Scotch, please.”

He lowered the hand off Cora’s cheek and set it on her bare thigh. The skin beneath his touch vibrated. The muscles coiled.

The woman herself never looked at him. Not even when he gave the supple flesh a squeeze. But her breath hitched. Barely.

“Captain.” De Marco drew James’s attention away from his brutalizing. “Have you given anymore consideration to what we talked about?”

James pretended to deliberate the question while he delved a little deeper under Cora until he could hook the first bend in his finger inside her.

She sucked in a breath that flared her nostrils.

“I did and, unfortunately, I must decline.”

Elise arrived with drinks.

James freed his hands to accept his. He didn’t miss the slump of Cora’s body in relief.

“No shop talk.” The woman passed Cora a martini and De Marco a whiskey. She held a champagne for herself as she sat. “I want to talk about the wedding.”

De Marco raised an eyebrow. “Have we decided to have one?” He took a sip, his eyes arrogant over the rim. “That’s a good start.”

“I want it here,” Elise went on. “In the gardens. A winter wedding will be gorgeous.” She sighed into her drink, hazel pools sparkling. “That could be our theme. Fire and ice. Fire for the engagement. Ice for the wedding.”

“That sounds nice,” Cora rasped.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind,” De Marco cut in. “It’s not too late.”

“Dad, please...”

The man put up the hand not holding his drink. “You can’t blame me for not exactly being thrilled to officially welcome him into the family.”

“He’s not...” Cora pulled in a deep breath that lifted her shoulders. “I want to stay. That is my choice.”

De Marco looked no less convinced that James was the devil himself. “I still think you should let me kill him.”

“Gio!”

“Bigger, stronger, scarier men have tried.” James set his untouched drink down. “You’re welcome to give it your best shot.”

“James!” Cora rounded on him.

Neither men pulled their stare away first. Not even when a fifth figure stepped into the room.

Sylvester De Marco sauntered into the parlor with the swagger of a bonafide mobster. Taller, leaner, and more angular than his brother, Sylvester radiated with a coldness that could have shamed the coldest winter. It swept off him, sucking up all the heat from the room.

But only James seemed to notice. Cora had never looked so delighted as she opened her arms to the man’s embrace. He had to step around James’s feet and bend at the waist to accept it, but Sylvester beamed as he crushed her to him.

“Hey kid.” He mashed a hard kiss to the top of her head. “Missed seeing your face.”

Cora sniffled, her smile wet. But she said nothing.

Sylvester drew back, careful not to trip on the coffee table or James’s feet.

“Sal, this is Captain James Crow,” De Marco introduce with an air of superiority that did not go unnoticed.

James rose, hand extended. His manners momentarily blinded him to the right hook that caught him completely unaware. It cracked against his jaw, a vicious blow that snapped his teeth together and filled his mouth with copper.

Raw fury rolled up his spine even as James straightened. Knuckles popped as all ten fingers curled at his sides. He raised his chin and fixed the other man with a venomous stare.

“That one was free.”

Thin lips twisted into a cold sneer. “I’ve heard all about you, Captain.” He spat the word, captain as though it were something foul in his mouth. “And I’m not scared.”

James allowed one corner of his mouth to lift. “You should be with a hook like that. Cora hits harder than you do.”

Sylvester smirked. “Yeah? Who do you think taught her?”

James hummed. “It must be one of those student surpassing teacher things.”

“Uncle.” Cora appeared between them, one hand extended to her uncle, the other pressing against the James’s chest. “Please.”

“Don’t please me, kid. I should take him out back and bury him in the roses.”

“Under,” James corrected smoothly. “I’m not Thumbelina.”

The other man’s eyes flashed a mutinous gold. “What did you say to me?”

Cora turned her chin over her shoulder, her eyes pleading. “James, please.”

Without answering her, James set his hands gently on her waist and nudged her to one side, leaving nothing between him and the man staring down the length of his slightly crooked nose at him.

“It’s purely out of respect for Elise that I don’t stain the carpets with your blood,” James told him firmly. “Next time you decide to sucker punch a guy, make sure he’s not offering you a hand. It’s weak and cowardly.”

“Gentlemen.” Elise appeared at Sylvester’s shoulder. Her pale hand seemed tiny settling on her brother in law’s arm. “Let’s not do this, hmm? Come. Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat and forget about this.”

She forcibly turned Sylvester and propelled him towards the door. She motioned for De Marco to follow before turning to James, her soft eyes assessing his face.

“I am so sorry,” she murmured. “Can I get you some ice?”

James shook his head. “Thank you.”

She continued to struggle with that for a moment before turning and following the other two from the room.

“James.” Cora stepped in front of him, her eyes filled with more concern than he’d ever seen anyone wear for him. “Let me see.”

Her fingers were cool brushing his face. They lightly drew him closer. The thumb grazed his bottom lips, taking away a droplet of blood.

She winced. “God, James.” Her hands slipped away from his face to cover hers. “This is a disaster.” Her hands lowered and she peered up at him, crestfallen. “I’m going to talk to Mom. I’ll convince her this whole engagement, wedding idea is a bad one and—”

“No.”

Her forehead creased in a clear assessment of his mental health. “That was my uncle. Can you imagine being in a room full of over fifty of my very nearest and dearest relatives? God, you and your mouth would get murdered.”

James lifted an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with my mouth?”

“You can’t stop goading!” she exclaimed. “You are incapable of not making a snide remark that will eventually get you killed.”

James considered that. He skimmed a tongue along his bottom lip, tasting blood as he studied her curiously.

“Would that be bad?”

Cora faltered. “What?”

“If I get killed, you will be free of me.”

She said nothing.

Something in him tightened at her silence. The only way to loosen it was to step around her, away from those eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t tell me you forgot you were supposed to hate me.”

Cora turned with him on the heel of her shoe. “I haven’t. I honestly don’t care if you ... if you die, but I happen to enjoy fucking you. It’s the only thing I actually like about you.”

He hummed quietly. “Is that all?”

She folded her arms. “Of course.”

“Just my cock, huh?”

She gave a fierce bob of her head. “Just your cock.”

He reached for her and dragged her into his chest. “Good. He happens to like you, too.”

Her face broke into a grin that ended in a laugh.

“What?”

She pulled away from him. “Now that we’ve established the approval of our genitalia, we should probably find the others.”

Her long strides carried her halfway to the door before he caught up to her. His fingers hooked into the swirling hem of her skirt and he tugged her to a stop.

“James.”

His answer was the trail of his fingertips up the supple curve where the back of her thigh met the rise of her ass cheek.

Cora sucked in a breath. “You know, this is becoming very unfair. How would you feel if I kept getting you hard and then...?”

She trailed off when the same finger caught into the material of her panties, the scrap of fabric stretching between her legs and pulled it away from her skin.

“You always get me hard,” he drawled into her ear. “I look at you and all I think about is being inside you.”

Her breath stuttered in her chest. He wasn’t sure if it was from his words or the panties slipping between her lips to press against her clit. He didn’t ask.

“Walk.”

Misty eyes lifted and found his. “What?”

“Walk,” he repeated, louder in case she missed it again.

She ran a tongue over her lips, momentarily distracting him. “But you—”

“Unless you’re offering me your butt, stop butting me.”

Cora giggled. “You’re holding my panties.”

“I know.” He gave a teasing little jerk that wiped the grin off her face and replaced it with a perfect O of her mouth. “Now, walk.”

She did.

She put one foot in front of the other. She only got three steps before the material caught and pulled against her. She staggered to a stop with a sharp gasp.

James joined her side and brushed his nose against her ear. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“Is this because I asked Nicholas to help me with my zipper? Is that why you’re tormenting me?”

It was funny she would use that word when it was all that kept repeating in his head.

“No, I’m doing this because I want to.” He kissed her cheek and followed the contour to her mouth. “The punishment for the other thing is coming later.”

“I won’t do it again,” she pleaded. “Please ... just ... no more.”

He nibbled on her bottom lip. “Not yet. Now, keeping going.”

He made her walk all the way to the dining room like that, with the crotch of her panties rubbing at her clit with every step. He didn’t release her until they approached the doorway. Only then did he let his finger slip from her undergarment.

“There you two are.” Elise motioned them deeper into the room.

“We thought you might have gone to get an ice pack,” De Marco chimed from his place at the head of the table.

James gave a closed mouth chuckle as he led Cora to the seats adjacent from Elise and Sylvester. He pulled out her chair and seated himself before bothering to respond.

“No need. Cora made it better. She has a very talented mouth.”

The woman next to him sputtered, choking on a bit of spit and making the situation — in James’s opinion — all the more entertaining.

“You son of a bitch!” Sylvester started pushing to his feet.

Elise stopped him.

James rolled his tongue over his teeth. “She kissed it better.” He narrowed his eyes. “What did you think I meant?”

He smirked at the other man’s fuming sneer.

“You’re a real piece of work, Crow, you know that?” Sylvester hissed, dropping back into his seat.

“Okay, I think we should begin,” Elise interjected.

The meal was beef cheeks in red wine on mashed potatoes, and asparagus. It was delicious, just juicy enough, salty enough to tempt James to ask for seconds. But the buzz of his phone had him excusing himself from the table and moving into the hallway.

“Yeah?”

“It checks out.” Nicholas’s voice was barely audible over the scream of wind and ocean. “Roman Endrizzi was skimming money out of clan funds for almost six year. Not much. Hundred bucks here and there. Nothing that might draw attention, but the sum total was well over a cool million.”

James scratched his jaw. “Who blew the whistle?”

“My sources say someone inside the camp. That’s all I got.”

James didn’t believe it. None of it. The evidence was too glaring for it to be a mere coincidence. Roman Endrizzi was an oily weasel, but he’d been loyal. He was too infatuated with De Marco to betray him. Plus, the timing was off.

“Keep checking.” He glanced towards the doorway leading into the dining room. “We’re almost done here.”

“There’s something else.” Nicholas stopped him before James could hang up. “Stevens caught a couple of guys snooping around the docks about an hour ago. Said they were lost, but they looked too secret agent for him to buy it.”

“Bishop?”

“I’d put money on it.”

So would James.

“I’m taking Cora back to her apartment tonight. Keep the men on lookout. You see anything, you call me immediately.”

He killed the call and made his way back inside.

Cora looked up when he approached, a smile on her face. “Okay?”

He nodded as he reclaimed his seat. “Business.”

Her smile brightened. “Mom was just telling us stories about her reception.”

He sat patiently and listened to every detail of Elise’s wedding to De Marco, every color choice, every china pattern disaster, every moment of her excitement as she relived it for the table with only half a mind on what she was actually saying.

The other half drifted between his ship and keeping Cora as far away from it as possible until he could confirm Bishop hadn’t found it, hadn’t sent his men.

But he couldn’t keep her at her apartment forever either. Bishop knew where it was.

He couldn’t leave her with De Marco.

He wouldn’t.

The bastard could eat shit if he thought he’d ever get Cora back.

But it was only a matter of time before Bishop found her.

“James?”

Slender fingers slipped over the corded muscles of his thigh, scattering his thoughts as all the blood rushed from his skull to fill his cock with just a lazy stroke. Eyes lost in their focus blinked. They swung to the woman seated next to him, grinning that seductive, siren grin. She cupped him, balls and cock, and squeezed. It took all his efforts not to let his eyes cross.

He managed a weak, “Yes, sweetheart?” that sounded raspy even to his own ears.

“I asked if you wanted a tour.”

She gave him a languid stroke in emphasis.

He would have gone any fucking place in the world she wanted him to go if she kept that up. But he was more curious to see what the imp thought she was doing. What exactly her plan was, because he wasn’t done playing with her. If she thought she could seduce him into changing his mind, she had another thing coming.

“I’d love one.”

He got to his feet and helped Cora to hers. He pushed both their chairs in before taking her hand and letting her guide them from the room.

“Where are you taking me, witch?”

“I’m going to seduce you.”

James bit back a grin. “Is that right?”

“Yup, and you’ll be the one to beg me for it.”

Intrigued, he didn’t stop her as they crossed through corridors to the opposite end of the building where the wood was just a bit darker, the paintings just a little creepier.

She took him to a set of doors and pushed him through. They were shut behind them.

The office was a puddle of shadows restrained by the single lamp lit on a mahogany desk. It barely illuminated the surrounding area, but he could make out bookcases, file cabinets, and a bar deep in the folds of shadows.

But none of those mattered.

He faced the woman standing behind him, cloaked in a satin sheet of darkness that irradiated the gleam in her eyes.

She stepped around him, around the circle of light he stood in, keeping to the edges. Always just out of sight.

“You’ve been holding all the cards today, Mr. Crow,” she purred. “I’m done playing by your rules.” Something rustled, the distinct whisper of fabric hitting the ground. “If you’re not going to fuck me, then I’m going to fuck you.”

One foot broke into the circle. Light expanded over a slender limb.

Climbing.

Climbing.

Taut, smooth skin.

Endless miles.

Unhindered.

Unclothed.

Beautifully, undeniably naked, she stood before him, hands on her hips, lips turned up in a smirk that could tempt a saint to sin.

“Objections?”

“Am I allowed objections?”

Her answer was the single step she took to him and the hands she twisted into his lapel. His blazer was torn off him. His shirt followed. The speed in which she undressed him was astounding.

It was terrifying.

It was erotic as fuck.

“No.” Her eyes sparked. “I’m in charge now, Captain.”

He let himself get hauled to the desk.

She shoved him down, catching him off guard and sending him sprawling across the cold surface. In the same impressive motion, she rose over him, a siren claiming a rock.

Her legs bracketed his.

Her knees hugged his ribs.

She braced her hands on his chest and met his gaze through a wild tangle of curls that could have been porn worthy.

She grinned at him and his cock swelled to sizes no man should ever face. The expression she gave him heated his blood to a concerning swelter.

“You look good on your back, Captain,” she teased with a seductive purr that made his eyes cross.

He made a grunting sound that would have mortified him any other time, but Cora had begun to wiggle her butt down his thighs, giving an extra little grind over his crotch before sliding between his knees until she was kneeling over him, face hovering over the bulge tenting the front of his trousers.

Her lashes lifted and he was caught in the dark shimmer of her eyes.

“May I?”

“Sweetheart...” was all he could choke out before his brain dissolved to soup in his skull with first brush of her lips.

The hot whisper of her breath through the fabric of his pants sent his eyeballs rolling back. His fingers curled into the edges on either side of him.

She abandoned his pain to stamp a kiss to his navel. James hissed as though she’d dropped a lit match against his skin.

More kisses littered his abdomen, marking each individual muscle in a path leading the wrong way from where he needed her.

Her hair slipped over her shoulders and landed in coils over his chest, his shoulders, and tickled his jaw. The scent of peaches rushed over him and he knew he would never be able to smell that fruit again without remembering this moment.

At his nipple, she stole a peek at him before lowering her lips and kissing the flat circle. She traced a tongue around the curves, leaving a damp trail that made him shiver when the chill in the room followed the teasing sweep.

James had never been one for having his nipple played with, but the cool sensation actually felt good. The way it made his stomach dip and his cock twitch made his skin tingle.

She didn’t stay there long. That was the extent of her attention and it was the perfect amount to get him that much closer.

The kisses turned into licks, little flicks of her tongue winding along the dips and grooves of his stomach muscles to where skin ended and his pants began.

Please, he wanted to beg, was about to beg, started to when her fingers hooked into fabric.

She tugged the material over his hips and down his thighs. The waistband caught the head of his erection, and he automatically winced. He braced himself for the smack of his helpless appendage slapping his pelvis, but she reached in to gently release him, a kindness he was eternally grateful for.

His pants were tugged the rest of the way to his ankles. He kicked out of them and his shoes, and lay before her as naked as she was.

She paused long enough to sweep her hair over one shoulder. The determination on her face euphoric.

She took him in hand. Her long, capable fingers guided him up to parted lips.

She sucked the head, light little nips of someone enjoying an ice cream cone. She swiped the head with her tongue gathering the clear fluid expelling from the crown.

James groaned. That dissolved into a strangled gasp with the fluid descent of her mouth taking him deep into the hot cave of her throat.

All the way to the base.

“Fuck me!”

His whimper was met with her withdrawal. The flat of her tongue dragged up his shaft to the head.

“Fuck ... Cora...”

She ignored him, too focused on adjusting her jaw for another dive.

She stayed down longer, her lips fastened around the very base of his penis. Her tongue stroked what she could reach, then coiled around him as she pulled back.

An escaped strand of hair was forced behind an ear carelessly. She licked her lips, took a deep breath, and went back in.

Quick, shallow bobs accompanied by harder sucks at the crown. She worked the shaft with her fist in clean, firm pumps.

Then, just when he was sure he couldn’t take anymore, she plunged him to the back of her throat. The transition was so abrupt, he barely had time to catch his breath when she was already retracting.

James groaned.

His eyes squeezed tight as the world thrummed around him. His heart raced, a greedy anticipation that had his hips jerking upwards.

She didn’t seem to mind when he struck the back of her esophagus. She kept him there, lips firm as he drove into her mouth, again and again. She let him thread his fingers into her hair and hold her in place while he fucked her mouth.

“God, baby ... so ... fucking ... good...”

She swallowed. The muscles of her throat flexed, her cheeks hollowed, her nostrils flared with the effort ... and James nearly lost his fucking mind.

“Stop. Christ, Cora, enough.”

Breathing hard, she pulled back. Her hand went up to wipe her mouth and chin.

James lay there a moment, willing back the urge to come all over his abdomen like some hormonal teenager at prom.

“Get my wallet from my pants.”

He watched and waited as she scrambled off him, off the desk and disappeared from sight. She sprung back up a second later, wallet in hand.

He took it and removed the condom from one of the compartments. The leather case was tossed carelessly back to the floor. He rolled himself in rubber and motioned her back to him.

“All right, sweetheart.” He sat up. “Get on.”

Her beautiful eyes darkened, mirroring the parting of her lips and the flare of heat that pinkened her cheeks.

“Yes sir!”

She returned to her place straddling him. She squeaked when he reached to cup the back of her head and pulled her in.

She moved with him when he tugged her forward. Her fingers curled around the back of his neck, cool strips that sent a wave of tingles rippling down his spine. She met him halfway with an urgency that trumped rationality. Scorching desire seared with the first melding of their mouths. It erupted in a shower of sparks that burned flesh. One of them cried out. Maybe her, because it was his tongue that swooped in to conquer the lingering vibrations of the sound.

Bodies collided, collapsing back against hard wood. Limbs intertwined. Flesh rubbed. Sexes aligned.

One buck of his hips and he was inside her, buried in all her glorious heat.

Cora cursed.

Her back arched.

Her head fell back.

James took full advantage of it all, biting, nibbling, licking, sucking every inch of her he could reach. He could have stayed in that moment forever, surrounded by her and the sweet symphony of her passion filling the room. He would have happily lost himself in it ... had the door not clicked.

It was subtle, barely audible over Cora’s moans, but it immediately had his head turning, his arms tightening.

Sylvester stuck his head in. He scanned the room, and froze on the threshold.

James said nothing.

He probably should have.

He probably should have been furious.

But the slow dawning of realization across the other man’s face, the rising horror, that satisfying moment when it all fell into place was just too good to pass up.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he murmured into Cora’s ear, his attention never leaving the other figure.

She did with a delicious cry of his name.

Sylvester was gone by the time Cora came down to earth, by the time she was a limp mess in his arms. The door was shut as if he’d never been there, but James knew better.

“Give me a second—”

He shook his head. “I’m good.”

Her head came up off his shoulder. “Your cock’s still hard.”

He smirked. “It’s always hard. but I can wait until we get to a bed.”

What he didn’t tell her was the slim possibility Sylvester was on his way to tell De Marco, and James wasn’t in the mood to be shot at.

He helped Cora off the desk. He joined her. The condom was tossed into the wastebasket.

Let the bastard find it, James thought as he pulled his clothes on.

Cora was already dressed and waiting by the door for him when he finished.

“Did you just fuck me on your father’s desk?”

Her grin, her dark, seductive, predatory gleam of pure, unadulterated sexual triumph made his groin twinge. “I thought you might enjoy that.”

He had.

De Marco may have disagreed, but fucking the man’s beloved and cherished daughter in the place he considered his place of sanctuary per her request had a thrill to it, a whisper of haughty satisfaction that was undeniable.

The fact that they had been caught was a minor gray area. One he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about.

On the one hand, eradicating the idea that Cora was being forced from the other man’s mind was satisfying, albeit not nearly as satisfying as the knowledge that she wanted James willingly and of her own volition, but nonetheless satisfying.

On the other hand, he severely disliked anyone seeing Cora naked, never mind in a position of such intense vulnerability. Uncle or not, her body was James’s and only his.

In all ways.

“You don’t look like a man who just did the dirty on your enemy’s desk,” Cora teased.

James tilted his head and caught her out of the corner of his eye. “Maybe I’m just relishing in it.”

“Or, maybe,” she took his wrist and stopped him. “you should have let me make you come.” She emphasized by stroking the still hard ridge of his erection through the soft material of his trousers. Her smile widened a fraction. “There’s still time.”

James caught her wrist and used it to jerk her into his chest. “For a woman who threatened to kill me if I manhandled her, you’re sure handsy, Ms. Harris.”

Cora laughed, a deep, breathtaking cackle that sent her head back on her neck. “For a man who spent the entire day torturing the shit out of me, you’re sure adamant not to enjoy it.”

He tightened his hold. “Maybe I’m secretly a masochist and enjoy the pain.”

“Are you?”

James smirked. “No, I like causing it.” He bit her lip to prove it. “Now, hands to yourself or I’ll restrain them.”

One eyebrow lifted. “Says the man who was fondling my asshole in front of my parents.”

It was James’s turn to burst out laughing. The unexpected explosion of sound startled both of them. It ran through the hallway, intertwining with the sprinkling of hers.

“There you two are.” Elise appeared at the end of the corridor.

James quickly composed himself.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she went on, peeking from one to the other with an unmasked interest that made the back of his neck prickle. It almost made him want to check his zipper. “We were about to have drinks in the parlor.”

Walking into the parlor was either the bravest thing he’d ever done, or the stupidest, especially when he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t get shot the moment he stepped foot over the threshold. All he could do was make sure Cora was semi behind him when he walked in.

De Marco was on the sofa, a brandy in hand. Sylvester stood across the room, back to the door, staring out the window at the dark driveway. Neither one held a gun, much to James’s relief.

“How was your tour, Captain?”

The amber liquid in De Marco’s tumbler swirled. The light spiked off the crystal rim, reminding James of a lighter being flicked.

James ignored the thinly veiled sliver of serrated steel in the question when he led Cora to the sofa and joined her.

So, Sylvester had told him.

That surprised, yet didn’t surprise James at all. Part of him had known the man would, yet to tell his own brother what he’d stood there and witnessed, and did nothing to stop was intriguing.

“You have a lovely home, Ms. Harris,” James said instead.

Elise beamed as she claimed the spot next to her husband. “Thank you, James. Would you like a drink?”

“We need to get going, actually,” Cora cut in for him. “It’s a bit of a drive back to the ship and I still need to change.”

“You’re leaving already?” Elise pouted. “But we haven’t had a chance to talk about anything, and the whole day was such an awful one.”

“We still have plenty of time to talk things out,” Cora promised, with a chuckle. “There really isn’t any rush.”

“Stop that.”

James shot her a warning glower, one that Elise immediately picked up on.

“What?”

The tension he could feel radiating down her stiffened spine vanished with the drooping of her shoulders.

She sighed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” She waved a hand between James and Sylvester. “Look what happened already. I don’t want James walking into something he might not walk away from.”

“What?” Elise shook her head. “No one is going to hurt him here.”

“Mom.”

Elise hesitated. “We’ll double security.”

“See, I don’t want double the security at an engagement party filled with people who are supposed to be my family, worrying about them killing my husband.”

“He kidnapped you,” Sylvester pointed out. “He has it coming.”

“Can we stop with that? Yes, he kidnapped me, but I’m staying of my own freewill. I want to be with him and if I can overlook the kidnapping, I’m hoping the people I love will, too.”

“Good luck with that, kid.” Sylvester made his way around the sofas to claim the armchair. “There’s a bullet with his name already on it just waiting for the right time.”

“Don’t you dare!” Cora sprung to her feet. “I will never forgive you if anything happens to James. I mean it.”

“He’s a criminal!” Sylvester pushed to his own feet to square off with her, his wide, tall frame dwarfing hers considerably, a stance that had all the pressure points along James’s spine tensing. “He’s a lowlife. He doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”

Cora didn’t back down. “So are you. So is Dad. So is every single person in our entire family tree. This is hardly the place for the kettle to have a say.”

Sylvester’s jaw ticked. “Watch your mouth. I’m still your uncle and I have every right to protect you from scum like him.”

“I don’t need protection, especially not from James.”

She started to turn away.

“I never thought I would see the day my niece would whore herself out to a fucking pirate. Your grandparents would be disgusted.”

“Watch your fucking mouth!” De Marco snarled. Liquid sprayed over the rim of the glass he slammed down on the coffee table. “You’ve gone too far.”

“That was uncalled for,” Elise agreed, cheeks scarlet.

But Cora wasn’t listening. She faced her uncle with her lips curled back over her teeth.

“I would rather be his whore than your niece.”

Without waiting for anyone to stop her, Cora stormed from the room. The crack of her heels echoed like thunder claps all through the house. Elise hurried after her.

James waited until both their footfalls had faded before slowly rising to his feet.

“Got something to say, Crow?” Sylvester challenged. “Go on, then. Make some smart ass comment.”

There was nothing in the world he wanted to say.

He didn’t need to.

The fist he drove up under the man’s chin said everything for him. It cracked with a satisfying crunch of bones. The sweet pain of it rained down his arm, but it was nothing to the arch of blood that sprayed into the air with the violent swing of Sylvester’s head. His entire body flew backwards into the armchair, snapping the clawed foot and knocking man and furniture backwards in a sprawling heap at the foot of the fireplace.

“You ever talk to my wife like that again, I will break every bone in your fucking body.” He tugged his blazer down and glanced at the other man in the room, the one staring at his brother’s unmoving limbs with uncaring indifference. “Send me the bill.”

With that, James left to find Cora.

He found her by the front doors, coat on, face a mask of fury as she murmured something to her mother. Elise was nodding and rubbing at the arms Cora had wrapped around herself.

“I promise,” Elise was saying when James drew closer. “I will make sure nothing like that happens.”

Cora caught sight of him and her muscles relaxed. Relief softened her features.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

His coat was brought to him by the butler, who seemingly materialized out of thin air. James accepted it with a murmured thanks and followed Cora to the door.

He paused once to face Elise. “Thank you for dinner, and I apologize about your chair.”

Elise frowned. “My what?”

But James joined Cora on the front porch. He let her slip her arm through his as they crossed the gravel driveway.

At the car, he opened her door, but didn’t let her get in.

“I can make him disappear,” he partially teased. “Say the word and he’s gone.”

Cora chuckled. “I don’t want to talk anymore about making people disappear. I hate that that is even an option, like it’s normal.”

He smoothed back a lock of hair. “It is normal for us, sweetheart.”

She sighed with a shake of her head. “I can’t believe the things he said.”

“You’re not a whore,” he told her firmly.

Cora scoffed. “I don’t care that he called me your whore. I hated that he can’t accept my decision, like I’m an idiot who’s too stupid to realize what’s happening. Deidra did the same thing to me this morning at breakfast. They think I’m brainwashed, or too afraid to tell you to fuck off if I want to. It’s pissing me off.”

“They’ll get over it,” he promised. “If they don’t, screw ‘em.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

He considered that while he motioned for her to get in and shut her in. He was still pondering it over as they drove through the gates back towards the city. He still had no answer when they arrived at her apartment.

“I didn’t really need to change,” she told him when he killed the engine.

“We’re going to stay here for a few nights.”

“Oh my God, yes!” She threw herself out of the car. “After the day I’ve had, I need a real bed.” She spun on her heels to face him as he stalked around the hood. Her fingers closed into his coat and dragged him to her. “And you.”

That was a request he was all too happy to oblige.