Kate Hoffmann: The Pirate

With that, they began a slow and easy love play, teasing and touching, whispering soft words of encouragement as they explored each other's bodies. Before long, her panties and his jeans ended up on the floor next to the bed, and they were twisted together, naked, with nothing standing between them.

She'd never felt such immense desire before, such overwhelming need. Every touch seemed so perfect, so filled with emotion. This was what passion was supposed to be like between a man and a woman. Not the awkward fumbling and frantic groping and nervous apprehension that she'd experienced in the past, but a tantalizing give-and-take, a hunger that seemed to grow by each second until she knew there had to be something more.

She needed to feel him not just around her and above her, but inside her. Hesitantly, she reached for him, touching him as she'd never touched a man before. He was like smooth silk and warm steel. With fleeting fingers, she ran her hand along the length of his shaft. He moaned softly and murmured her name. Then, as if to return the pleasure she gave him, he touched her in a way so intimate, she instinctively drew away.

"Don't be frightened of me, Merrie," he said. "Let me take you to a perfect place."

She relaxed and closed her eyes, surrendering to his gentle caress. Slowly, a delicious warmth seeped though her limbs, pricking at the tips of her fingers and toes. But gradually, the warmth turned to need. Her breath quickened and her every thought focused on the touch of his hand on her body. The tension built deep in her core until she moved against him, aching with need.

"Please," she whispered. "Please, Griffin. I want you."

Then his warm fingers were gone. In an instant, he was above her, the touch of his hand now replaced by his probing shaft. He drew her knees up along his hips and slowly entered her.

She winced as he met the proof of her virginity and she bit her lip, ready to face his surprise, his confusion, maybe even his disdain.

He frowned. "This cannot be so," he murmured.

"You are my first, Griffin," Merrie said, averting her gaze, a soft blush coloring her cheeks. "I've waited for you my whole life."

The confusion in his eyes gradually turned to understanding, then longing. He moved above her. "It may hurt, Merrie," he murmured. "But I vow, it will be the first and last time our lovemaking causes you pain."

She nodded. "I need you, Griffin."

He held her face in his hands and gazed deeply into her eyes. "And I need you, Merrie, my love." He moved against her and with one smooth thrust, took her.

For a long moment, he didn't move again, allowing her to adjust to the feel of him buried deep inside her. But then, as if he knew when the time was right, he pressed into her, slowly at first, then with a powerful rhythm.

Her senses reeled with every thrust and release, a pulse of tension quickening at her core. She whispered his name, again and again, a silent plea to bring her release. Higher and higher they climbed, rocking against each other until she felt as if she'd lost all touch with reality.

Suddenly, she was there… and in an instant, gone, tumbling over the edge, crying out at the same moment he did, their hearts and their souls merging into one. And in that glorious, shattering moment, she knew she belonged entirely to this man, this Griffin Rourke. She always had.

Meredith sighed in contentment, fighting the pull of wakefulness and sinking back into the hazy world of sleep. The fantasy had become real, and oh so perfect. Her pirate had come to her in the middle of the night, taking her with unbridled passion and fierce possession. And she had given herself to him, body and soul, heart and mind, until, in an exquisite instant, they'd become one.

Nestling into the warmth of his embrace, she pressed her forehead against the silky black hair on his chest, then drew a deep breath through her nose. The smell of their lovemaking still lingered on his skin. She listened to the strong, even sound of his breathing for a long time, then slowly opened her eyes.

She smiled and sighed softly. It hadn't been a dream. Griffin was here, in her bed, his naked body lying beside hers, his long legs twisted around hers. And for the first time in her life, she felt complete, as if she had found her place as a woman. She had waited all her life for this man, knowing he was out there, somewhere. And across time and distance, against all odds, they had found each other.

She drew her foot up along his leg and let her sleepy gaze drift up his chest to his face. Softened by sleep, his perfect features looked boyishly vulnerable, not at all like the intense and powerful man who had made love to her. Would she ever truly know him? Or would he always keep a part of himself, that part that belonged to the past, from her?

Taking care not to disturb his sleep, Meredith slipped out of his careless embrace. She pushed herself up on her knees and studied him intently. Slowly, she pulled the sheet away from his waist, uncovering him to her eyes, determined to know his body as he seemed to know hers. He was flawless, and so beautiful. Reaching out, she ran her fingers down his chest, tracing the dark path of hair from his collarbone to his waist and below. Emboldened, she touched him there, softly stroking the essence of his manhood.

"Mmm. Would that I could wake up to that touch every day, Merrie-girl."

Snatching her hand away, she looked up in surprise to find him watching her through hooded eyes. "I-I didn't mean to wake you," she said, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks.

He reached out and took her hand, then kissed her palm. "Do not be frightened to touch me, Merrie. I want to feel your hands on me."

She had never felt such a deep and abiding trust in a man before. With Griffin, she sensed that anything she did would please him, from an innocent kiss to a carnal caress. This was the man she loved, the man she would spend her life with, and from him, she could hold nothing back.

With trembling fingers, she reached down and took him in her touch. He sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes, growing hard beneath her hand. As she stroked him, her confidence grew and she became acutely aware of the power she held over him. By just a simple caress, she could stir the embers of his passion until they flamed bright again.

"God, Merrie, what you do to me," he murmured, his eyes closed, his expression tense with tightly held longing.

Slowly, she lowered her head and kissed him, the heat of his erection branding her lips. He moaned and twisted his fingers through her hair, holding her still for a moment above his finely muscled stomach.

She knew of the things that could be between a man and woman, yet never thought she would want to try them herself. But now, it all seemed so natural. She wanted to love him in this way, too, to experience every facet of intimacy with him.

Gently, she ran her tongue along the ridge of his desire, then took him in her mouth. As she moved over him, she listened to the sounds he made deep in his throat, taking her cues from his reactions. And then, as her movements quickened, his breathing followed suit, and she knew he was close.

In one smooth movement, he pushed himself up and grabbed her around the waist, whispering her name in a soft, urgent voice. Drawing her body above his, he spread her knees to straddle his thighs. His hands pushed down on her hips until she impaled herself on him, slowly, exquisitely, sinking onto him until she felt the whole of him deep inside her.

"Oh, my," she cried, breathless.

"Be still." His words were more a warning than a command. He held her there, keeping her from even the slightest movement. She shifted, trying to escape his iron hold. "Don't, Merrie," he breathed. When she stopped, he pressed his hand between them and gently touched her where they were so intimately joined.