The throbbing and wetness between my legs is threatening to overtake my senses at the moment. I’m not sure how much longer I can last before I combust from the fire building inside me.

“… when I was groaning with the pleasure of your tongue and the warm, wet muscles in your throat as you desperately tried to give me what I craved… that, Harper, is humiliation. Because in that moment, you owned me. All I saw was you taking my cock. Letting me do whatever I wanted to find my release. And you owned me. You had all the power, lionfish. Not me.”

His hand is suddenly between my legs, pushing against my shorts. He pulls them aside and slips his fingers into the crease. “Has anyone ever touched you here?” The softness is gone and in its place is a demand. A low rumbling, and almost angry demand. “Answer me,” he says, pushing his fingers further into my folds.

“No,” I whisper. My body is out of my control right now. My head is spinning as his fingers dip deeper, and then withdraw, only to flick against my most sensitive spot.

I lose my mind. My head falls backward against the wall and I moan. And then his mouth is on mine, his tongue dancing back and forth inside. I respond out of instinct, my tongue trying to mimic the dips and pushes of his fingers in my throbbing sex. He pumps hard and I gasp, but his mouth is back at my ear, whispering soothing things, soft things, comforting things. So I relax and let him do anything he wants. This is a pleasure I have never known. And I’d do anything to make it continue.

“Now I have the power, don’t I?”

I can only nod.

“And if you were ready, Harper, I’d f**k you hard. I’d do things you can’t even imagine. I’d lick your pu**y and make you come on my face. I’d f**k you in the ass and tie you up and spank your cheeks until you screamed my name.”

I explode all over his fingers. Panting and heaving for more breath, my mind spinning and my legs buckling until I fall against his chest.

“Now I’m in charge again. You see that, Harp? When you’re on your knees, my c**k in your mouth, you’ve got me, baby. You own me. Because the only thing on my mind is coming down your throat. When I’m rolling your clit between my fingers, I own you.”

I moan.

“Right?” he demands, twisting the folds between my legs and grabbing a fistful of hair. Yanking my neck back so I have to look him in the face.

I nod. “Yes.”

He withdraws his fingers and brings them to my mouth. “Suck, Harper.”

I turn my head.

“Look at me,” the killer in him demands.

I look up. He holds up two fingers, slick with my own wetness, and puts them in his mouth. He withdraws, then touches them to my lips. I open without being told. “Lick,” he says in his soothing voice.

I lick the tip of his fingers, tasting my own sweetness. He sticks them in farther, grinding his erection against my hips, and the pulsing between my legs is back. Just like that, I am ready again.

The laundry room light flicks on around the corner and he backs away, taking his hard dick and his fingers with him. My body feels cold and empty now that it’s alone again. My arms wrap around myself instinctively and hug.

A palm reaches across the space and cups my cheek. “You’re so pretty.”

I blush. After all that kinky stuff I just did, I blush at the word pretty.

“You don’t believe me?”

I shrug. “I don’t know,” I mumble truthfully. “I haven’t had a lot of feedback in that area.”

“But you have a mirror?” He laughs as he says it.

“Blonde hair, brown eyes, brown skin.”

He shoots me the dimples and my insides tumble around like I’m being tossed in a wave. “Your eyes aren’t brown, they’re amber. It’s striking to see them in the light of the setting sun. And your hair is streaked blonde from years on the sea. That gorgeous brown body is golden, like you own the definition of tanned. And you’re the perfect combination of hard and soft. Killer and lover. Sweet and deadly.” He reaches around and grabs my ass. “I’m gonna take that ass,” he whispers, making the wetness pool between my legs. “Next time, I’m gonna take your ass and your pu**y.”

I swallow hard and stare at him, trying not to picture this right now. Because I’m so out of control, it scares me.

“When you’re ready, Harper. Come find me.”

And then he walks away and rounds the corner, calling out a, “What’s up, dude?” to the person grabbing their dry clothes in the laundry room.

Chapter Eleven

HARPER

The shadow catches my eye as I roll and I sit upright instantly, staring at the empty chair across the room.

Nothing.

I look over at the clock. It’s 3AM and I haven’t slept in two days. I haven’t left the apartment since my last encounter with James in the hallway. I haven’t eaten, or showered, or met the sun. I’ve simply… existed.

This guy. Never has anyone affected me like this. He’s all I think about. He seems so… familiar. And maybe it’s just because I’ve seen him out of the corner of my eye once or twice. He’s admitted to watching me. But that just doesn’t seem right.

There’s something else…

I kick off the light covers, get out of bed, and pad over to the kitchen where I’m keeping the pills. I’ve avoided them successfully these past two days, but I’ve had enough. It’s not safe to go without sleep. It messes with your brain. Makes you see shadows of beautiful men sitting in your living room while you sleep. It makes you wish for their c**k down your throat.

Holy crap, I have problems.

I eat three pills, chase it with water, and then pad back over to my bed and lie down.

My heart and brain slow simultaneously. It’s a trick of my mind, I realize this. The drug takes a good twenty to thirty minutes to kick in. But I slow anyway. And it’s welcome.

My eyelids droop, then close. My shoulders relax as I turn on my side and let out a long breath.

Some peace is all I want. Just some peace.

And my brother.

But he’s gone.

So I’ll have to settle for my fake sedative-induced peace.

The dawn erupts with a burst of orange across the water and the day begins just like any other. My feet are rocking with the waves, a gentle sway of balance I adapted to before I could walk. I was born on this ship. I drank my first milk on this ship. Crawled the deck, slept in a berth, and learned the fine art of getting wet on this ship.