With each stroke, I snuggled closer until my lips rested against the hard lines of his jaw. He had the smoothest skin I’d ever felt on a man, and he smelled delightful, so clean and virile. I couldn’t resist the pull to nuzzle him.

He allowed the intimacy and played in it, too, brushing his mouth across my cheek and against the ticklish place beneath my ear. Off and on, he dropped tender kisses along the frame of my face, seemingly unaware of his effect on me as he absently petted my hair and stared off into the rain.

His affection was neither lust-filled nor expectant. He didn’t grab me or grope me or hurry this along to some indecent end. He was giving me a connection, a closeness that was bigger, stronger than bedplay.

We were meaningful together. Intricate. An unlikely bond formed in the dwelling place of souls.

The moment felt unreal, like a dream between time and space, with no boundaries, no titles. We weren’t enemies in this sphere. We weren’t captor and captive or lord and pirate.

We were but two people who came from and belonged to the sea, reaching for each other because it felt right. It felt natural.

In the security of his arms, I floated into slumber, waking periodically to his lips grazing some part of my face, his breath rustling my hair, or his hands roaming the shape of my hip.

As the rain tapered off, I woke fully and found him watching me with an engrossed expression.

“What is it?” I tried to sit up.

The hand in my hair brought me to a halt and held me there.

“You’re fragile when you let your guard down.” His voice rumbled, setting my chest aflutter. “This spot… Just here.” He touched the curve between my neck and shoulder. “It’s so delicate and feminine. Like the softest silk.” He caressed the dip again, making me twitch. “You’re ticklish. Even when you sleep. It’s…remarkable.”

I stared up at his beautiful, impassive face where excellent breeding met intelligence and sophistication. Carved and polished from head to toe, he was a nobleman through and through. And a damned good commodore, too, with eyes that missed nothing and an iron will that never bent.

What did he want with me in his arms? What did I want beyond my freedom?

There were no painless answers to those questions.

With each passing second, my intent to win his love felt less like a devised plan and more like a fate I couldn’t stop or control. I needed his affection. Not to use as a means to escape.

I didn’t want to escape Ashley Cutler. I didn’t want to betray him or lose him in any capacity. The greedy, unreasonable truth was I wished to keep him and hold him just like this every night.

What did that mean for Priest?