My body fevered, and my pulse sped up. This was what I’d wanted. But wasn’t it too soon?

If he gave me his seed tonight, I could move forward with the pregnancy plan. But shouldn’t I try for his heart first? That ruse was easier to play out, less complicated.

If he tried to bed me now, I could deny him, give him the chase men seemed to love. It might make him want me more.

If I denied him, he might force me.

I spent thirty seconds reasoning this out before his hand disappeared.

He slid soundlessly from the bed and strode to the balcony, making the decision for me.

I simmered in frustration and cursed myself for feeling rejected again by a man I didn’t want.

But I did desire him. For reasons any woman with working eyes desired him. I could look past his pestilent personality for an hour or two if it meant putting my hands all over that flawless, godlike body.

I wasn’t usually so lustful and eager. But it had been two years since I’d lost myself on a man’s cock, and after spending two days with this one, I was feeling that abstention right where I needed him the most.

My cunt throbbed. My nipples hardened. My entire body strained to sense his movements on the balcony. Then I heard it.

A grunt. A heavy breath. More followed. Then, “Oh, God. Oh, Christ, yes.”

I froze, dazed, rendered utterly confused. Those whispered throaty words sounded nothing like his voice.

Sliding from the bed, I followed the string of muffled groans toward the balcony. The loud creaking of the ship deadened my soft steps. His gasping sounds smothered my own labored breaths.

Pausing just out of view, I peeked around the edge of the open door and choked.

Standing in the muted glow of the distant stern lantern, a broad-shouldered silhouette bent at the rail, tall, dark, and gloriously nude. With his back to me, he gripped the balustrade with one hand and stroked his shaft with the other.

My drubbing heart propelled into my throat, and I pressed a hand over my gaping mouth.

Ashley Cutler, you gorgeous, filthy pervert.

His arse was so chiseled and perfectly shaped I wanted to cry. Powerful thighs flexed and contracted as he strained on his toes and worked his muscled arm. And his noises… Those hungry grunts, trapped behind clenched teeth, sent a million shivers up and down and through my body.

Leaning into his impassioned strokes, he was in plain view of the moon and the endless roaring sea. Oh, I envied those waves. He pleasured himself for them, gripping and jerking his long swollen rod.