Dmitri left her the choice: come peacefully with her modesty covered by her shift or be carried naked over his shoulder.
Biding her time, Adrienne chose peace.
***
The hazy red sun dipped below the horizon when Dmitri and Adrienne found the mouth of a rocky brook. Upstream fruit trees flourished, a shelter from this night on foreign sands. Above all, the brook promised fresh, clean water.
Adrienne stared ahead impassively, ignoring her thirst. When Dmitri had tied her wrists, she did not resist. When he had searched the debris for supplies, she did not help. She had said nothing since they had rutted to a frenzy amid the wreckage. Adrienne, fury simmering in the tropical heat, stayed as silent as ice.
Shocked and exhausted, Adrienne blamed herself. Dmitri was an enemy, yet she rehabilitated him, mercy misjudged. When she needed to save herself, she failed. And he took everything, including what she offered willingly. Nothing burned worse than that shame. Her body and her will had always been her own. Nevermore.
Duty, pride, and the rage clenching at her heart kept Adrienne from reflecting too closely at what had passed between them on the black sand shore. With fingers and mouth, he'd kindled such want in her. She had no reason to believe that the daring stranger who led her to shelter was sated. It would be wise to reflect, to understand how she had been made to so wantonly beg. The better to resist later.
Coward,
Adrienne instead accused bitterly. She was afraid of what she might feel in the memory.
Cloaking her cowardice, Adrienne set her jaw. The Avi and the war needed her. She would live, and she would have her vengeance. The fine silver hairpin glinted in the pocket of his breeches, daring her to lunge, to take it, to do what she should have the moment she laid eyes on him. Adrienne had never reveled in another man's death. She would delight in his as he had delighted in raping her.
***
Within the refreshing sunset shadows of the inlet where the sea breeze cooled the sweat on the pair's weary brows, the Altai pirate turned to study his captive. Her hair hung long and wild around her shoulders. The silky, riotous strands begged to have his hands buried within them again. Her pale green eyes stared through him, refusing him any glimpse of the passion he had found there. The mouth he'd kissed to fullness had hardened once more, pressed tight. Her hallowed voice was silent.
As entertaining as it would have been to carry her fair and naked through the dark sands, Dmitri enjoyed the useless modesty of her linen shift, a gift he'd never tire of unwrapping. The drab neckline hid all but the shape of full, pink tipped breasts. While he'd returned her boots, her unintentionally provocative breeches remained piled on the sands. The shift grazed her thighs, flirted with the curve of her hips and rear, and left long legs free for his open admiration.
He'd had her twice in the sands. If she continued to look at him like that, he would have her again before he'd so much as slaked his burning thirst.
Mouth twisting wryly at the madness inflicted upon him by his beautiful savior, Dmitri wrapped the rope around his fist to draw Adrienne to him. Adrienne approached, coolly poised despite the rags she wore, steady as a dancer or a captain abord her ship. She approached until the rope had no slack remaining, until his fingers slid beneath the bonds to massage her wrists and the callused curve of her palms.
"The rope is a necessary precaution, water lily. I can't yet trust you to spare me." Humor warmed Dmitri's dark eyes. A knuckle grazed her cheek, which drew Adrienne's placid gaze to his. His white teeth flashed at the determination and enviable control he saw there.
Another woman might have flailed and carried on, whining and keening until he was ready to toss her back into the sea. Not his Adrienne.
No, she definitely wanted to disembowel him.
This was not, admittedly, his best start to a courtship. Luckily, it was also not his worst.
Dmitri lifted his rope-encircled hand over Adrienne's head, dragging her arms with it. The shift rose, inches of fair skin revealed. Adrienne barely dared to breathe. Her breasts bobbed in slow, shallow gasps. And still every passing breeze put her on display. The shift's hem fluttered against damp, golden curls and the tempting slopes of her rear. It was such a sight as to make Dmitri bite his lip.
Though Adrienne could not understand Dmitri, she recognized a roughness in his voice. It was no great leap of medical insight. They had both nearly drowned and had until now found no fresh water. He must be as thirsty as she. And yet he gazed at her in such a way as to make her feel small. A beautiful woman knows appreciative glances, polite admiration. The look in her captor's eye was lust -- unfiltered and decidedly impolitic. She felt a chill from the base of her spine to her heart.
Dmitri kept Adrienne there, arms so outstretched that she needed to dig her toes into the sand for purchase. His height an advantage, he secured her in that position with a sailor's knot to a tree branch. Her gaze tipped skyward. It would be difficult, but she might climb the rope and free it -- and through it, herself. She kept the thoughts masked, expression ever serene. Those precautions didn't matter, however, for the pirate knelt at the brook's shore, back to her.
Cupping his hands, Dmitri shoveled water into his mouth, sating one of two burning needs. Transfixed, Adrienne salivated, tongue thick in her mouth. Only when Dmitri could hold no more did he turn back to her, elbow resting on his knee. Water clung to that dangerous shadow of a beard. The one that had scraped wantonly across her body, as possessive as his hands.
Adrienne felt rising desperation. Her gaze pinned him, muscles quivering for a taste of what he kept just out of reach. But she would not beg. He spoke to her, timbre pitched to make a woman ache, and when she made no answer, Dmitri smiled.
Pulling the strip of cloth away from his neck, he soaked it into the brook's fresh water then carried it to Adrienne. Adrienne felt herself surging forward toward the relief in Dmitri's hands. The rope swayed and her mouth parted.
And Dmitri? He laughed.
He laughed tenderly, fondly. He laughed at the sight his proud heroine made. "Fiend," Adrienne spat, venom in her voice. Still chuckling, Dmitri pulled her to his hip, steadying her and controlling her. He was solid muscle, as unyielding as she remembered.
He answered with droll foreign words and dangled the dripping cloth in front of Adrienne's face. She watched it hungrily, neck straining with restraint. She trembled from the tips of her bound fingers to her thighs, stretched and burning.
With his mouth still curved into a smile, Dmitri tossed his head back and let a few meagre drops of water fall onto his mouth. Adrienne's stomach dropped at the sight. She knew what would come next, and when he bent to kiss her, she clenched her eyes closed.
Sweat beaded at the back of her neck. Around them was the quiet of a tropical evening, the soft crash of waves, and the steady beat of a pirate's heart while he waited, so patiently, for his stunning, stubborn captive.
Moaning, hating herself, Adrienne met the kiss, lapped at Dmitri's mouth to capture each blessed drop. He'd given her almost nothing; the thirst burned hotter, stronger for having been so teased. While Adrienne suckled, Dmitri kissed. He had kissed Adrienne before. But he could not say that he had tasted her. Each warm breath ghosted across Adrienne's cheeks while he savored.
Tearing away, Dmitri bit into the rag, then dove back into the kiss. Adrienne's tortured sounds were musical, even as she sucked his bottom lip between her teeth, found the refreshment she sought. "More," she pleaded, already broken, green eyes fixed urgently on the pirate doling out water like a miser with his gold.
For a moment, Dmitri stared back, calculating. Then he found her throat, gripped it, golden brown skin against a fair complexion. To think he possessed such a wonder as she. Awed, he slid the tip of the soaked cloth to her full and desperate mouth - and grinned at Adrienne's inevitable frustration.
She couldn't taste more than a sip. He held her by the throat, refused to let her dive forward to capture the rest of the water. And, oh, she tried. Adrienne twisted and squirmed. Her wrists tugged at her bindings. Modesty was the furthest from her mind. Every movement flashed a tantalizing sight to Dmitri's hungry eyes. Glimpses of her soft hip, lush rear, of the curls gracing her slick channel, one which wanted him as much as he wanted her, her dignity be damned.
"That's enough," Dmitri spoke, shocked by his breathlessness. He pushed Adrienne back by the throat, separating her from the water. He didn't need to understand her to recognize the worry in her knit brows. She was right to do so.
For a second time, Adrienne's stomach sank. Thirst, the pain at her throat, all was briefly eclipsed by Dmitri pushing his breeches over his hips. She had not looked earlier and now could not look away from the rigid cock brought to life by whatever Dmitri saw in her. The thick muscles of his thighs -- one which had pleasured her so effectively hours earlier -- clenched beneath the dying light and again pushed between Adrienne's raised legs.
For a moment, Dmitri thought he saw grief in Adrienne's eyes. But only for a moment. He looked away, biting her shoulder and holding the water cloth out of her reach. Steadier now, he lifted her, coaxed her legs around his waist. Warm skin to warm skin. The tip of his cock nestled against the wetness between her legs. Some, perhaps, was his remnants, clinging where he had claimed her.
