"Port Ambrosia"

Leah hadn't expected that-the skirt's clinking coins and the scrap of her boots sounding as he pressed his toned chest into her soft one, his hips in the cradle of hers as he drove her back against the book shelf-interrupting the reach for her dagger (which caused a slight arch into him for the blade was at the small of her back)with his hands around her slender wrists, his mouth against hers. She tasted like the wine she had been drinking, sweet and decadent-that exotic flower scent clinging to her skin and red hair.

She didn't make the conscious decision to return his kiss-but she did. Even though she had serious reason to distrust him, Leah returned the passion with searing heat, just as oblivious to the falling objects from the shelf as he was. She couldn't believe he was here. She couldn't believe he would dare to kiss her, knowing she knew he was to be married, knowing she was -ransoming- him for his own -wife-.

There was more to this noble than the conniving, cowardly stereotype she kept trying to push him in and it affected her, for some damned reason. Whatever fury she had felt before only added to how good he felt against her-and she had no idea why, flicking her tongue against his enticingly, her captured hands forgetting all about the dagger she would have threatened him with, the insistence of "business before pleasure."

She -was- on holiday, after all...
 
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Feeling her return the kiss ... and not feeling her stick a knife in his back or lift a knee violently into his groin, buoyed Henry's passion. He pressed his groin harder against her body, then -- releasing his grip on her wrists -- leaned down and grasped the backs of her thighs through the jingling skirt and lifted her up against the wall, pulling her legs open as he did. He turned her, stepping forward to drop her atop the small desk in the corner and pulled her opened body hard against him.

"I want you, Leah," he told her, continuing between passionate kisses, "I need you ... here ... now!"

He reached a hand between them and began pulling the hem of her long skirt upwards, desperate to make her available to him.
 
He lifted her up and Leah's hands found not her knife-but his shoulders, the back of his neck, her fingers threading into his hair beneath the silly common hat he wore, even as her own tipped off her head. Those long legs instinctively wrapped around him, jingling coins sounding as her upper right thigh was exposed, that half of the curved lash scar.

How did she know this wasn't an attempt to sway her? It would not work...it could not work, this was seperate from their business dealings, she was in control here, she was the one with all the cards, she-

"I want you, Leah," "Who says I'm available?" She said in that low, sensual tone she had used before seducing him that night, smoky and dangerous, turning her head slightly so that his lips grazed her cheek, trailing smaller ones along his jaw, his neck, pulling that shirt aside even if it popped buttons as her mouth roamed, wanting to touch him almost as much as he wanted to touch -her-.

"Who says I care what you need?" She breathed in his ear, not stopping him from lifting the skirt up, pushing it to her hips where he'd find silk panties with ties at her hips holding the illicit garment together, her black boots and the curved scar across the front of her legs. He was a philandering Englishmen, she tried to remember, even as her fingers trailed down his toned chest to the ties of his pants. She had his would be wife under lock and key and instead of demanding to know where the Princess was-he was focused on the bloody pirate who held her.

And yet she had sent those blasted ships. She hadn't exposed him in the bar.

Henry had saved her life...but tit for tat-she had nearly lost it saving his island.

So...why? Did she want him as he wanted her? Did the initial thrill of tumbling with a noble extend to now? Or was it simply because he was the only man Leah had ever bedded willingly, taken by choice? The only man not afraid, at least outright, of her?

The only man who had traveled to what could have surely been a trap just to have her in his arms...?

"You're a bloody fool Henry." Leah said in a heated way, those green flecked eyes reflecting his lust, looking directly into his blue eyes with a mixture of chastisement and care. "A bloody fool." And she stopped considering all the blasted factors as she tugged his breeches down fingers running over the length of him before sliding around to his back as she kissed him hard, as much permission as any hot blooded woman had ever given.
 
"You're a bloody fool Henry," she said in a tone that half of his brain took as being a criticism and the other half took as being a desire to be foolish with him. "A bloody fool."

She pulled at the thick string at his belly, dropping his pants away. Henry sucked in a deep, excited breath as Leah grasped his shaft and stroked it. When her hands moved to his back, pulling him closer, he reached under her skirt, found dangling strings, and -- hoping they were what he thought -- pulled them until the knots popped loose. He pulled her panties away from her and tossed them to the floor.

He wasted no time, pulling her knees higher up his body, pressing his erection against her, then pulling it back until he felt it hit warmth and wet ... and pushed as he met her mouth again in a hungry kiss.
 
Leah shifted her hips and pulled him closer to slide him home, a shiver as the pirate's tight inner walls stretched to accommodate him, that almost discomforted fullness giving way to a deliciously dark thrill.

His kiss was met with fire, Leah once again seeming intent to drive -him- over the edge, tightening and relaxing around his member in rhythm with his thrusts, breaking the kiss to pant just over his shoulder, wanting to drive him mad, wanting him to lose himself, wanting him to be the one in the frenzy, the one being -controlled-.

But in all honesty, Leah was fond of the noble. She almost could not help it.
 
Henry hadn't enjoyed such sudden passion like this in a great long time ... and -- whether fortunate or unfortunate was too be debated -- the euphoria of pounding deep into Leah came to the Governor suddenly as well. Grasping her buttocks tightly and pulling their bodies firmly together -- driving himself deeper into her than he thought he'd ever been in a woman -- Henry exploded with a loud, uncontrolled grunt that likely could have been heard beyond the walls despite the raucous party atmosphere of the tavern. He didn't care of people heard him -- heard them -- and a part of him actually wanted the pirates, Leah's pirates, to know that he was fucking their captain. Henry was happiest here, with her, in her; and he didn't want anything about that to change.

The climax overwhelmed his senses, and for a long moment, Henry was unaware of anything but the pleasure coursing through his body. His heart pounded; the breaths escaped his lungs in labored moans; he was trembling and covered in goose bumps, which -- when he regained the power to think clearly -- he couldn't remember having ever happened as a result of sex with any woman in his past.

What was it about this woman that made him feel ... so unbelievably good? She was beautiful ... sexy ... erotic; all the descriptive, physical words that drew a man to a woman applied to Leah. But ... it was far more than that, and while he couldn't explain it, Henry knew that that was the case. Leah was someone -- some thing -- Henry had never had.

And it came to him. Leah was dangerous. Every thing about her, from what she could do to him body to body to what she could do to him and others with a sword or fire arm; it was all dangerous ... and he loved that.

As the euphoria waned enough for him to collect his thoughts, Henry looked up into Leah's eyes and whispered, "Sorry..."

Her expression told him that she probably didn't understand the apology. He shifted his grip on her lower body, lifting her off the counter and carried her -- legs still wrapped around his waist -- to the bed where he dropped her, a bit harder than he had planned. His still hard cock never escaped her as he fell atop her body and immediately returned to fucking her.

He was sorry ... that he'd cum so quickly and not given her what she deserved ... the best sex a man could provide ... to counter the best sex that Leah had just given Henry.
 
It almost hurt-tight inner muscles contracting around his pistoning member, Leah rode him to his sudden orgasm-tensing against him as he came, his heated seed splashing against her insides almost painfully.

Leaving Leah to catch her breath against his shoulder, small, tender kisses pressed against his neck and jaw, his face-the man's expression bliss, his mind a million miles away. The affect she could easily have on him was arousing all it's own, the -power-. And how instead of wishing to exploit that power-it made her worry for him, it raised protective rather than manipulative emotions.

A fool's emotions.

Those green flecked, hazel eyes were watching him quietly when he came down from the high, a blink when he apologized-only for him to lift her from the counter, carry to her the bed- "Henry-" He was still hard but they had -business- to attend to, he had gotten what he-dropped a little hard onto her ass and back, she moved to let him slip from her-only for him to come down also, his weight pinning her to the bed, his chest against her soft corsetted one, his lips to her throat as he resumed his thrusting, tilting her hips with his hands so he was hitting all the -wrong- spots with-

Leah hissed, unwilling to be driven to that edge, to lose that bit of control-she tried to push him off but one of his hands caught hers, pinned them above her head firmly but gently, his warm lips finding hers-and she forgot all about resisting as he continued to drive himself into her, more controlled, more possessive-filling her again and again as his mouth roamed her flushed skin until her mind shattered with pleasure.

The pirate should have been sated, exhausted-but unlike before, she was at full health and "fighting" condition-and this time she near -forced- him onto his back, kissing him hard before she straightened to ride him at her own fast pace, breasts bouncing and red lips parted with feminine sounds of pleasure-as he slid in and out of her sensitive sex.

It was as if she needed, no-wanted to be the cause of his pleasure, returning his deed with one of her own, driving him over the edge and onto yet another hihg. Henry came again in her spasming insides, the two business partners...and almost lovers...sated, breathing hard-and staring at each other, one with thoughtful, lust filled, multi colored eyes.

That, even as he watched her, even as he softened within her warmth-narrowed with fury. She pulled back a hand and slapped him. "Married!?" It was not as hard a slap as Leah could no doubt have provided, but the anger was sudden and apparantly, just as his lust had been barely contained-it too had waited months for this moment. "And to not just any bride, but a SPANISH one?!" Oh dear.

She rose off of him and the skirt fell into place as she turned to sit on the edge of the bed, slipping off to pace. "What did you think, you'd just tie the knot and everyone would get along just fine? That I wouldn't know or that the Crown wouldn't petition you to hang me or that-" Leah growled, throwing her hands up in the air as she whirled on him.

"And this! Your wife to be is -being held for ransom-, and you're busy fucking the kidnapper!" What was wrong with him?! Priorities, for the love of God! Leah strode closer, her hands coming not for a slap but to wrap around the open edges of his shirt, her fury shifting to that same worried expression, the fretting. "I could have killed you. -They- could have killed you." She nodded towards the echoing, muffled din from outside.

Leah didn't meet his gaze, staring instead at his chest. "Jesus Henry, did you ever pause to think about any of this?"
 
Being inside her was incredible, and Henry had to remind himself that it was Leah's satisfaction that he was striving for her on the bed. He could see the pleasure in her eyes; could feel it in the way she rocked with his thrusts. At one point she tried to push him away and, thinking she was trying to take control of her own stimulation, he pinned her hands to the pillow above her head and continued with his hard driving thrusts into her.

Henry's own orgasm was coming, and for the first time in his life, he found his brain pleading, No ... NO! He feared that if he came again, he wouldn't have the strength to finish her. He praised God -- something he'd never done in bed before -- as he saw, heard, and felt her orgasm below him. He lifted his head, watching her expression as the euphoria surged through her. And ... he smiled, both literally and figuratively, at knowing he'd made her happy as she had done to him.

He thought they were done, both sated, until she practically through him to his back and mounted him. He watched her with awe as she rode him; she had been so beautiful simply standing in his library that first day, so to see her here, straddling him, her body grinding against him, creating so much pleasure, was ... overwhelming.

Henry never wanted this to end. Not tonight. Not ever. He had to have Leah forever. And while it was their love making now that drove his feelings for her, it had been her absence for those three long months that had made him make the decision that he had to have her.

He exploded inside her again, grasping her hips tightly and pulling her to drive his erection deep into her. He held her there until the ejaculations ended ... until the euphoria subsided ... until his head stopped spinning. He never wanted to pull out of her ... never wanted her to dismount him.

"Married?" she practically spat out at him, slapping him and pulling him violently from his reverie. "And to not just any bride, but a SPANISH one?!"

Fuck! he thought to himself as he watched her rise off of him and sit on the edge of the bed. She stood and began pacing around the room, and all Henry could think was, Remember this fondly ... 'cause it's the last you'll ever enjoy her like this.

"What did you think...? she continued, "...you'd just tie the knot and everyone would get along just fine? That I wouldn't know or that the Crown wouldn't petition you to hang me or that-"

Henry was at a loss ... a total loss. He'd had women throw a fit about their relationships with him. But, he'd never really cared about their tantrums: they would get upset, he would send them away, and the next night or week there would be another woman -- noble, courtier, peasant, or whore -- to take her place in his bed. And all was good. But ... with Leah.

"And this!" she continued, her expression and gestures telling Henry she was talking about their last few minutes with one another. "Your wife to be is being held for ransom, and you're busy fucking the kidnapper!"

Henry sat up, then slipped his feet over the edge of the bed and stood, waiting for her to finish. He didn't move toward her, because he knew women could do irrational things when this mad ... and that Leah was fond of carrying a knife close to the body he'd just sent into ecstasy.

"I could have killed you," she told him, adding quickly and he decided to approach her, "They could have killed you. Jesus Henry, did you ever pause to think about any of this?"

"Yes," he said simply and softly, reaching out to take her arms and pull her against him. "Yes ... they could have killed me ... and yes ... you could have killed me, too. But they didn't, and you didn't, and we enjoyed one another ... as we have before ... and as we will again. This ... Spanish princess ... it's just political. She will be my wife in name only. She means nothing to me now, and she'll mean nothing to me after our wedding."

And there would be a wedding, despite Henry's feelings for Leah and -- he presumed -- her feelings for him. He had no choice; if he wanted to keep Port Ambrosia long enough to strengthen its defenses, improved its economy, and befriend its people -- who came from more nationalities than he could keep straight -- Henry had to marry this Spaniard.

"I will still want you as I have wanted you since the first time I looked upon you, m'love." He spoke that last word without even considering its implications ... or Leah's reaction.
 
"She means nothing to me now, and she'll mean nothing to me after our wedding." She would have felt bad for the woman...if said woman wasn't the spawn of Satan, anyway. Against his chest, Leah could almost believe he wasn't conniving, wasn't plotting against her. That Henry...despite what she knew of men and politicians, could be trusted.

But the Spaniard most certainly could not. Could Henry be so foolish, so unaware of the treachery of women? That there would be no consequence in double dipping.

"How do you know she's still -fit- for marrying?" She said angrily, remembering she was a blood thirsty god damned pirate, and he wasn't getting anything for free.

She stepped back and out of his arms, leveling her gaze at him with a defiant expression, dangerous. "Who says I didn't turn her over to a cruel pirate with cold hands and a biting whip?" The words were malicious and...disturbing, to the say the least. Even Leah fell silent at them, averting her eyes and for a moment-Henry might wonder just what sort of internal battle she was fighting as she turned to move towards the bedside table, fingers catching the drawer pull while her other hand ran through that red hair.

The description of cruelty was oddly specific...

"...many men want me, Henry. And all of you seem to have no damned idea what I'm capable of." Leah breathed, but this...this one, this one she wanted, and she didn't know what to do, entirely. Part of her wanted to kill him now before he could become a problem-part of her ached at the thought. She could use another port, try to find the unique similiar situation and exploit it-but the temptation would be too strong. It wasn't the sex. It was the man who ruled Ambrosia. She wanted to see him freed from these political trappings, the uselessness of being owned by the King.

"I could make you unstoppable. Free." She retrieved not a weapon but a brass key, exhaling softly as she looked to him again, a slight frown on her lips. "As only men are allowed to be."

What did that mean?

Leah knew. Even as a pirate captain, she was bound to a code of conduct simply because she was a woman-how many had seen her take a man to this room? How many would pass it along to her own men, how many WERE her own men? She could be facing a mutiny any day now, the weaker she looked...

It only took an inkling of suspicion, an ounce of fear she was Henry's pawn.

"And instead, you busy yourself pleasing my enemy." It was ironic. She offered a bitterly amused smile, offering one of her delicate hands-and this time she led him not roughly, but gently towards the window, the alley beyond it a safer route than the ruffians-and also more discreet.

"But as I said. The bedroom is the bedroom, and our business is, well, business." She opened the aging wooden panel and slipped out, waiting for him outside. She couldn't accept his declaration. She dared not. She was already in deeper than she ever intended to be, a disturbing notion to Leah. Women the world over had done foolish, stupid things for the love of a man. Like Henry-Leah was wary of the term, the mere mention.

But for her, the stakes were so much greater-a plank or a length of rope were likely results of the affair. When men tired of their wives they took mistresses, and when they tired of them they dismissed them to convents-but a pirate, a pirate would no doubt be sent to the gallows.

"Did you like your ships?" She asked, a slow, wicked grin curving her lips. Ah. There was his Leah. Confident, dangerous, and sexy. Engaging him as an equal, not a superior or inferior.
 
"How do you know she's still fit for marrying?" Leah challenged, pulling from his arms and backing away. "Who says I didn't turn her over to a cruel pirate with cold hands and a biting whip?"

Henry didn't respond immediately; he couldn't be certain whether or not she was joking with him or serious. If he'd had long enough to consider the thought, he would have said You wouldn't do that to another woman. If he'd had even a bit more time, he would have realized he didn't know Leah well enough to be certain about that.

But she fell silent and averted her eyes, and while Henry could have thought she was feeling guilty for the rape of the Spanish Princess, he was certain it was something else. Leah was a pirate; she had killed men, possibly women, in the heat of battle; and she'd probably also killed men brutally at times, possibly even in cold blood. But ... Henry didn't take her for a blood thirty villain. He couldn't know that for certain, of course, but he knew he couldn't lust for -- and possibly love? -- someone as sadistic and psychopathic as that.

He watched as she moved to a small table and opened a drawer, saying, "Many men want me, Henry. And all of you seem to have no damned idea what I'm capable of."

I know what you're capable of, he thought hopefully, But I have faith...

He wasn't sure what he had faith in, of course. His mind was on the big picture. And as if she was reading that far-thinking mind of his, she continued...

"I could make you unstoppable. Free." Leah retrieved a brass key from the drawer, and as Henry was about to ask about it, she continued, "As only men are allowed to be."

As only men are allowed to be... He knew what that meant, of course. It was a man's world. It always had been, and it likely always would be. In the beginning, it had been about physical strength. Then, religion and the ownership of property, then written laws; then were all created and enforced by men, so of course they favored men.

Henry's mother used to talk poetically about how one day things would be different, like they now were in some far off matriarchal lands where the woman was cherished and honored as the giver of life and protector of man-kind; that women would someday become equal with men, maybe even superior to them in many facets of life. To this, of course, Henry's father would laugh hysterically, kiss his wife on the forehead, tell her to keep dreaming, and then head down to the pub on the edge of their estate to have his way with one of the barmaids who, of course, had no right to refuse him.

Leah was, of course, the first woman Henry had ever known who did not answer, in some way, to a man. Oh sure, she had negotiated with him concerning her ships and her men being in his port, but that was just politics. It wasn't like she'd gone to her man and asked, Can I go have a chat with the Governor? Henry smiled a bit just picturing Leah groveling to a man. He couldn't even imagine such an event.

He knew that their relationship as lovers was weighing heavy on Leah. She hadn't had to tell him about men and women; nor did she have to tell him about how her men would interpret their Captain parting her thighs for the Governor of the port they so often visited. It would look as if she was paying for portage in a very personal way.

He didn't want her men thinking that ... but ... he did want her to continue parting those wonderful, warm thighs.

"And instead, you busy yourself pleasing my enemy." she snapped at him, bringing him out of his reverie. "But as I said. The bedroom is the bedroom, and our business is, well, business."

The Spanish Princess, he remembered, wishing Leah hadn't brought her up while his pants were still untied about his waist and his dick was still semi-erect for the pirate who was holding her. My betrothed ...

Leah grasped one of his hands gently, leading him -- he hoped -- back toward the bed. Instead, she stopped next to it, opened the window, and crawled out gesturing for him to follow.

He was confused, until a loud, raucous laugh beyond the little bedroom's door reminded him that they were in a tavern full of men who would love to see the only female Captain in the Caribbean emerging, sated, with an English nobleman. He stepped toward the window, preparing to exit, when Leah threw him off again.

"Did you like your ships?"

A wicked grin curved her lips, as she impatiently gestured for him to follow. He shook his head, amused at how quickly the woman could jump from passion to anger to ironic humor. He threw a leg out, found his footing, and joined her in the dark, otherwise abandoned alley ... and immediately pushed her up against the wall and kissed her passionately.

He pulled back suddenly, laughed, gave her a polite bow, and said with his best diplomatic voice, "Captain Leah, I am honored to accept your gift on behalf of the people of Port Ambrosia..."

Then he stepped forward, grasped her hand again, and turned toward the alley's exit, saying quieter, "Of course, the Spanish ambassador doesn't feel the same way ... so ..."

He swept a hand toward the alley's end, and prodded, "Lead the way, Captain. And ... show me how that little key of yours is going to make us free."
 
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