Honestly, I didn’t know anyone who could break out in a rash of itchy red spots just from touching nectar. Although, I had a man on my gun crew once who fell violently ill when he ate tree nuts.

Priest looked at the sticky residue on my chest and back at his hands, his complexion paling as he made the connection.

“You bathed yourself in oranges.” He glanced down, running his gaze over his bare chest, searching for invisible traces of the toxic pulp. Then his eyes widened in horror, and he raised his fingers toward his face.

“Don’t touch your mouth.” My pulse kicked up. “You haven’t ingested it. Yet.”

If he swallowed even a whiff of the fruit, those blisters would swell in his throat, close his airway, and kill him. At least, that was Ipswich’s conclusion when we told him about the peculiar affliction three years ago. I never wanted to test the theory.

“Only your hands came in contact with the juice. I spread it here.” I gestured at my nude torso. “Just…don’t touch your face. Or anything else.”

I directed my eyes at his groin.

If he put his contaminated hands in his breeches and tried to stroke himself, it would inflame so severely he would lose his arousal. That was the reason I went to all this trouble.

No masturbation. No orgasms. Not until I allowed him to scrub his hands.

Physical and mental torture.

“Give me the water.” He glowered at the wash bucket, knowing relief was well out of his reach.

“Give me the compass.”

14

Determination fortified my spine as I eased back onto the barrel, spread my legs, and resumed my erotic self-stimulation. “Tell me where you hid the compass, Mr. Farrell, and I’ll wash every inch of your body myself.”

Priest balled his blistered hands on his thighs and set his jaw.

“It’s easy, darling.” Naked from end to end, I let my head fall on my shoulders, arched my back, and worked my fingers between my legs. “Just tell me where it is, and I’ll give you relief.”

“If I give you the compass, I’ll lose you.” His voice grated, thick with agony and dangerous hunger. “You’ll put me ashore on the next desolate beach, and I can’t… I will not spend another day without you.”

“You already lost me.” I twisted my hand, sliding it through my slickness. “If you don’t give me the compass, I’ll finish myself off. Then I’ll call your brother down here and let him fill me over and over until I finish again.”

His low menacing growl brought my head up.

He captured my eyes. “It doesn’t matter how far we fall, how much pain we inflict, or how dark it becomes in the ruin. I’m going to be with you, waiting for you, loving you, forgiving you. I’m never letting go, Bennett. Never.”