Free Humbled by Renee Rose Page A

jutting length, showing her a new pleasure each time, until a sense of urgency overcame her.
    “Oh,” she cried.
    “Yes,” he encouraged.
    “I want—”
    “I know.” His eyes rolled back in his head and he gritted his teeth, thrusting his hips up as he yanked her down with each thrust. “Take it, Corinne.”
    Take it? She did not have time to ponder the command because panic shot through her and she took him as deeply as she could, a great shudder running through her body. Her muscles clenched around his length and he gave a growl.
     
    * * *
     
    He woke feeling sick to his stomach. The medicine the medic had given him had made him half delirious. He had dreamed of making love to Corinne. He sat up, groaning at the pain in his ribs.
    “What hurts?” Corinne appeared at his side and the sight of her sent a jolt through his entire system. Memories of her applying something to his ribs came rushing back, along with a jumble of much more. He had made love to her.
    “Corinne.” His mouth felt as if it were filled with wool.
    She handed him a tin cup of water. He took it, drinking gratefully.
    “Corinne,” he tried again. “Did I…?”
    She averted her face, a flush creeping up her neck.
    He caught her hand and pulled her toward him. “Forgive me. I am so sorry—I should not have…”
    She flushed a deeper shade of pink but shook her head. “I have no regret,” she said with a stubborn lift of her chin.
    He touched her face. “Did it hurt?”
    Her eyes shot to his, as if surprised by the question. She gave a small shrug. “A little. At the beginning.”
    “It gets better. I promise. It only hurts the first time.”
    “You will show me?” she whispered.
    His heart gave a double-beat to hear she wanted it again. The medic entered, causing her to jump to her feet and smooth her skirts. Even with an audience, it took all his self-control not to grab her and show her right then.

Chapter Five
     
     
    Moreau saw the aristo and her peasant leave the medic’s cabin hand in hand. Curious about the unlikely pair, he invited them to dine with him. Were they married? Or lovers? How had such a match come about?
    When the young man had offered to punish his “wife,” Moreau had not believed he would. He suspected Armand was a servant from the girl’s château, aiding her in escape. Yet when he had peeked in his cabin, Armand had the young lady over his knee and was looking quite experienced—even comfortable—in his chastisement of her. That small puzzle had lodged in his mind, causing his interest in the couple to grow.
    He already regretted his little game with the girl. Humbling her had not proven to be the entertainment he had expected. In fact, she had worked as willingly as any of his crew and befriended other peasants in steerage.
    He ordered the table set just for the three of them and watched as they approached, both looking suspicious.
    He stood when they arrived, acknowledging the presence of a lady. Being accustomed to such treatment, she did not notice at first, but the courtesy did not escape her companion.
    “I have decided I no longer require your service,” he announced when they settled into their seats. “You may enjoy the rest of your passage as paid cabin guests.”
    Armand kept his face impassive. “Why the change of heart?”
    He shrugged. “It is not so interesting to watch an aristo lowered when she has already made a liaison beneath her. Now I would very much prefer the sight of a lady on my ship, as we have no others this trip.”
    “And you still do not,” the lady insisted while Armand flushed an angry red. The food arrived and she again showed her perfect table manners while her companion ate like a commoner.
    “Let us not carry out this farce any longer. You can no more pretend not to be an aristo than your companion can pretend he is a silversmith.”
    She drew herself up in indignation. “He is a silversmith! He made that ring in his own forge!”
    Armand appeared both