Ship Bound

Serena McGuire hated boats; that was all there was to it. The rolling beneath her feet, the closed confinement. Even the sea air bothered her, although it never had before. Of course, she had been on a beach then. But the combination now had her stomach rolling along with the waves of the ocean.

Her best friend, Isabel Trecher, instructed her that if she would actually spend some time on the deck, instead of in their cabin (which happened to be on the lowest deck, complete with two beds, one dresser, and no window), she would feel much better. Probably, Serena mused, because she would be as liquored up as Isabel is.

She felt slightly better while imagining an intoxicated Isabel charming the staff of the Carnival cruise ship. But then she felt the ship pitched ever so slightly, and her stomach rolled uncomfortably in the opposite direction.

With an unsteady hand, she grabbed the glass of water sitting beside her, and took a long drink. Then she took a long look around the cramped room, realized how ridiculous she was being, and decided right then to go up to the Lido deck and lounge in the spa. Maybe she'd get one of those margaritas in a large plastic glass, with a little pink umbrella.

Regardless, she was getting out of that room.

Quickly, before she could change her mind, she pulled on her new bathing suit, a little yellow bikini she had bought just for this trip. She wrapped a shift around her, and swept out the cabin door with her towel bag, and ran right into someone.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, looking up, and up and up. The man she had run into was so tall, standing above her slight 5'4" frame by more than a foot. "Oh, my..."

"Well now, lass, where might you be off to at such a pace?"

Serena just stared up at the man, blinked once as if to assure herself that she wasn't imagining things. He was Scottish. The pure velvet of his accent, combined with the deep, melodious timbre sent her nerves into utter chaos. "I, uh, well..." she closed her eyes for a moment, and pushed a breath out, stealing herself to look at the guy and speak as if an intelligent person. When she open her eyes, her mind went completely blank again, "Oh, my Holy God."

"I'm sorry?"

He is so gorgeous! she thought to herself. All that untidy black hair, and his green eyes. She couldn't stop staring. The man was some major sex-on-a-stick.

He was guardedly watching her, as if she were completely insane. Perhaps she was.

Serena rolled her eyes at herself, "Christ," she said, pushing her dark bangs away from her face in a gesture of nervousness, "I'm sorry; I'm a complete dunder-head."

"A what," he asked politely, the rumble of his voice more amused now than concerned, "I'm afraid I doona quite got the knack of American colloquiums just yet."

Sighing, Serena decided that she was a first class loser, "A dunder-head, is a person who is a complete dork that can't seem to keep a hold of her brain for more than a minute at a time. I," she pointed at herself, "am the dork, and you," she pointed at him, "are the reason I lost my brain."

"Did I now," he said, obviously delighted, "well, that's encouraging."

Serena stared at him for a moment, then said, "You've got to be kidding me."

"On the contrary, my dear, men thoroughly enjoy flustering a beautiful woman such that she becomes speechless," his unbelievably green eyes twinkled at her, seeming to mock her, "It's quite the compliment."

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. His smile grew as he watched her confusion race across her face. "Oh, wow," she finally managed.

"Amazing, that was exactly what I thought when you ran into me," he took up her hand, gave it a light kiss, and then tucked into his own, "Now then, where were you running off to at such a speed?"

"I, uh," he had begun walking down the ships corridor, her hand firmly captured in his, "was thinking about visiting the spa on the Lido deck."

He gave her a once over, his gaze heating a little as he saw what was beneath the white gossamer shift. The tiny bits of bright yellow cloth that was her bathing suit just barely covered her curved body; "I doona think that a wise idea. The spa on the top deck is always full of rowdy youths, drinking and splashing around. Might I suggest the spa on the Veranda deck? It's closer to the back of the ship, so you'll have an extraordinary view, and is usually much quieter."

"I didn't know there was a spa on that deck."

"It's hidden quite effectively. Come with me lass, I'll show you where it is."

Suddenly, she realized they were in the elevator, and it was already half way to the Veranda deck. She couldn't believe how crazy she was, just wandering off with some strange man (even if he was the sexiest man she had ever set eyes on before), without even knowing his name.

"Is there something amiss?" he asked politely.

"No, well, uh," she wondered if she'd ever be able to speak to him without tripping over her tongue, "it's just that you're being so nice to me..."

"The crime of the century, I'm sure," he added.

"...Even though I must seem to be insane to you..."

"It crossed my mind at first, I must admit."

"... But I don't know you, or even know your name. You're just so gorgeous, and I just can't figure out why you're being so nice to me," Oh my god, did I just say that out loud?! "Christ, I can't even speak without making myself look like a fool. I think I'm just going to go back to my room, and throw myself a pity party for the rest of the cruise."

"A pity party? Now that won't do," he said with a shake of his head. He caught her arm before she could get away from him, "I think you would be better off in the spa."

The elevator door opened, and sunlight blinded Serena for a moment. She felt herself being pulled from the elevator by the strange man, and reluctantly followed.

"What are you a doctor or something?" she asked a little peeved.

"Actually, yes I am, and I advise several relaxing hours in the spa, preferably," he smiled a delightfully boyish grin, "not alone. Since there doona appear to be anyone onboard the ship capable of being relaxing company for a respectable lass, such as yourself, I shall gladly sacrifice myself for your benefit."

"Well," she mused, perfectly charmed by him. They were now stopped, facing each other beside the railing of the ship, the ocean beneath them reaching for the sun. Both her hands were held in his, as she gazed up into his emerald green eyes, completely entranced. Her voice came out in a whisper, "one shouldn't argue with the doctor, I suppose."

"No, lass, I doona suppose you should." He looked as if he were about to kiss her, and Serena's lips parted instinctively in anticipation. Instead, he raised her hand and feathered a kiss on the back of it, flashed her that boyish smile again, and said, "By the by, Gwydion O'Conolly at your service."

"Serena. I'm Serena McGuire."

__________________________________________

Maybe she was a tad insane, but then again, all Americans were to Gwydion. Nevertheless, Serena McGuire just happened to be the most delightfully sexy, insane person he had ever met. Her complete inability to string a sentence together without bumbling it was positively enchanting. The fact that he was the reason she continued to bumble her sentences didn't hurt much either. She was sweet, almost innocent to his jaded eyes.

She looked just like what he always thought a pixy would look like. Her face was small and heart shaped, her skin a smooth ivory complexion. Her petite nose, which was turned up slightly at the tip, had a dash of freckles that she had attempted to cover with powder. Her hair was a violent explosion of red curls that made her face seem smaller than it really was. Ocean blue eyes twinkled in the sunlight, showing the confusion and desire which had tripped up that lovely pink tongue.

Gwydion wanted her. From the moment she ran into him he had desperately wanted her. He would do anything to have her. Have her, and then keep her, forever.

She just didn't know it yet.

"So, Serena McGuire, why is your husband not accompanying you," he asked.

Serena sighed, letting the soft brogue of his question carry her away to green hills, and wattle and daub houses; "Hmm? Oh, I'm not married."

"You're here alone?"

When she smiled, his heart clenched, "No, not alone. My girlfriend is probably off somewhere coercing a free drink from some unsuspecting bartender."

"Your... girlfriend," he hesitantly asked, suddenly thrown by the turn of events.

'Serena gazed at him, uncertain of his tone. When she understood, she began laughing and couldn't stop. A tear squeezed out from between her tightly closed eyes, as she clutched at his arm, trying to hold herself upright; "Oh my," she gasped one last time, finally calming down, "my friend. She's my friend, but a female. So, she's my girlfriend."

"Yes, I see." He smiled at her, enjoying Serena McGuire now that she had become more comfortable with him. Her laughter had surprised him. It was completely unrestrained, and full of joy.

They arrived at a spa at the rear of the ship, where the ocean spread out forever. The sun shone down on the water, almost blinding them with light. A seagull soared gracefully on the salty air currents. There was no one around, which surprised Serena. It had seemed to her that she couldn't escape the hoards of people on the ship unless she stayed in her room.

"Would you like a drink, lass? One of those fruity concoctions everyone seems to be so fond of, or some wine?"

"Wine would be nice," she replied, distracted by the view. Then, realizing that the nearest bar was two floor below, asked, "You're not going go all the way downstairs for a glass of wine, are you?"

She almost sounded hopeful, Gwydion mused with an inward smile. He would go a lot farther than down a couple of flights of stairs to make her happy; "No, just to my room. The ship gave me a few complimentary bottles, so I figured I'd pour us a glass or two while I go and change."

Serena's suddenly realized that, while she was perfectly dressed for a dip in the spa, Mister-sexy-Scottish-guy was not, "But why didn't you change while we were downstairs?"

His full lips stretched into a smile, and Serena decided that snacking on those lips might be an entertaining pastime for the rest of the day, "Because, lass, my room is on this level."

"But why were you downstairs then? There's nothing but rooms down there," she asked, her brow frowned in thought.

"I started out by exploring the ship, but I suppose that was Fate's excuse for sending me to you." He turned and started walking down an aisle that lead to the front of the ship; "I'll no' be but a moment."

Serena gazed after him, stunned speechless by his soft words. She wasn't completely naive; she knew what he wanted from her. All men wanted only one thing from a woman. But Gwydion was smooth as silk, and his words a seduction Serena didn't think she could refuse. She didn't think she wanted to refuse.

She sighed and banished her trepidations away. If he was so intent on seducing her, she would let him. There was still five days left on this ship. Being romanced by him would make the memories of this trip all the sweeter.

Content with her decision, she focused on enjoying the view as he walked away from her. He looked like one of those Greek gods. His body was tall and powerful. His loose white cotton shirt sat gracefully on muscle laden shoulders, and his tailored kaki pants hugged his trim hips and muscled butt in such a way that made watching him a woman's paradise. Her paradise.

_____________________________________

When he returned, she was already in the spa. Juggling his towel, two glasses and a full bottle of white wine, his gaze swept over her. Her hair was finally tamed, slicked back by a dunk beneath the water. Water glistened on her fair skin, making her look even more the part of a pixy. The frothy little white thing that had covered her lush curves was now cast negligently over a nearby lounge chair. A little shiver of anticipation coursed through him. He couldn't wait to explore those curves with his hands, and later with his mouth.

She was watching him as well, noting, with satisfaction, the way desire flared in his eyes as he looked at her. He tossed his towel on the chair next to hers, and carefully set down the bottle and glasses on the edge of the spa.

Serena sucked in a breath of air as he stripped off his silk robe. He was magnificent. Her imagination, which had been running wild since he left her, couldn't compare to the real thing. Muscle was packed onto his body, but not like the way the young Arnold Schwarzenegger was. Gwydion was lean and wiry, which, to her, made him look all the more powerful. His shoulder length hair was tied back from a face of harsh lines and masculine beauty. Dark honey seemed to coat his skin, and Serena couldn't wait to see if he tasted half as good as he looked.

With a feline grace, Gwydion slipped into the spa. After pouring the wine, he turned and handed Serena a glass. "To Fate," he purred, holding his glass up. Serena tapped the rim of her glass to his, then took a small sip of the wine.

"So," Serena began, watching his throat as he drank his glass down, "Gwydion, what does your name mean?"

He looked at her, the amused twinkle in his eye diminishing the wicked grin it accompanied, "It means: God of Magic."

Serena snorted in an unladylike manner, "Oh, please," she rolled her eyes at him, "you're just making that up."

"You doona believe me?" He actually looked offended. Then he flashed her that wicked grin again, this time without the amused look that had relieved her before; "Mayhap you would like me to show you what magic I possess?"

Her eyes widened as he slipped in front of her, crowding her with his large body. When his hands slid silkily up her thighs, she jumped in surprise; "No, I don't think that's necessary."

"But I do," he growled, moving closer. Her eyes widened as his head dipped down close to hers.

The kiss started softly, a whisper of promise to things to come. When she opened her mouth in response, however, Gwydion took advantage and dipped his tongue in. Serena's brain fizzled to a complete stop as he slowly made love with her mouth, leisurely slipping his tongue around hers in a blatant mimicry of sex. He caught her lip between her teeth, and gently sucked on it as he watched her eyes languorously open.

"Do you believe me now, lass?" She nodded, her lovely sapphire eyes looking lasciviously dazed. A growl of victory sounded deep in his throat, "Good."

This time, when he came down to kiss her, Serena was ready for him. As his lips claimed hers, she opened beneath him like a flower. She moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck when he slipped his tongue between her lips. Lust ripped through his body at the sound of her arousal. He broke away from the kiss, tightly closed his eyes, and fought to rein in himself before he made the mistake of tearing without thought into her. After a few moments, the desire better restrained, he opened his eyes and looked at Serena.

The look of exalted triumph made her eyes glitter. She did that to him. She made him want her that it hurt him to control it. It made her feel powerful. It made her want to make him thoroughly lose that control. She pushed herself out from her seat, and into his arms. Without letting him think about it, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. Pouring her soul into it, the kiss turned carnal. They nipped at each other, fighting with tongues and teeth and lips, each working to get the upper hand. Determined to get that upper hand, Serena pressed against him, molding her small soft body against the hard planes of his muscled body.

He caught her in his arms, and pulled her long legs around his hips. She cried out in delight when he fitted his hard arousal into the apex of her pleasure. Pushing her up against the side of the spa, he grinded himself against her in circles. Roughly, he tore at the ties of her top, desperate to feel her generous breasts in his hands. Before he could get it undone, however, she pushed him off her.

Smiling sensuously, she slid a few feet away from him. When he tried to follow, she held up a hand, and said, "No touching. I want you to watch."

Obediently, he sat down opposite from her, and watched.

She stood up with her back to him, coquettishly looking over her shoulder at him as she slipped the knot of her bathing suit undone. She pulled the top off, and held it to the side with one hand, while she covered her breasts with the other. Flinging it in the direction of her shift, she turned to face him, covering herself with both arms in feigned shyness.

"Do you want to look at me," she softly inquired.

"Yes." His breath was ragged and fast. A thrill swept through her as she saw the craving building in his eyes.

"Do you want to tough me?"

He nodded, his mouth dry. Her little strip tease had definitely teased him, strait to the edge of reason.

She slid up to him, and smiled at him, "Well, you can't. Not yet," she looked at him sternly, "Promise me."

His mouth opened to protest, but when her arm slipped slightly, tantalizing him with the barest glimpse of her, he nodded his promise.

"Good."

She moved her arms, and her breasts bounced free from their confinement. As she moved closer, he saw that her ivory skin there was flawlessly smooth, her small rosy nipples erect in anticipation. His hands balled into fists to keep him from touching her, as she slithered into his lap.

"Christ," he groaned, fighting to keep his promise as her hands wandered across the naked planes of his chest.

"Sorry," she purred, her hands dipping to follow the trail of black hair till she met the barrier of his swimming trunks, "He's not here. You'll have to make do with me."

Her lips skimmed seductively across his. When he opened his mouth, to taste more of her, she backed away, shaking her head. Resuming his passive roll, he allowed her to whisper soft kisses over his lips, and down the line of his jaw to his ear. She sucked soft skin of his lobe into her mouth, and he shivered as she rolled her tongue around it.

Small hands slipped over the lines of muscles of his stomach, and when they dipped a shy inch beneath the elastic of his trunks, he sucked in a breath of agony. Serena saw him pleading her to explore, to touch. Emboldened by his wordless urging, she slid her hand down until she brushed against hot, hardened steel. Her eyes widened and her mouth popped in a small "o" as she tried, unsuccessfully, to wrap her hand around his width.

There was no way she could take all that man inside her. He is too much man, she thought, as he slanted his lips across hers and plunged his tongue into her mouth. When he kissed her, her hands tightened around him instinctively. Then, though she was being thoroughly distracted by heart branding kisses, she slowly began moving her hands up and down on his length. It was soft and hard, ridges and curves, and as she massaged him, a wonderful tingling intensified in the pit of her stomach, steadily growing as she watched his reactions to her pleasuring him.

His chest rose and fell with each short breath he took he took through his slightly opened lips. Sensations rolled through his body, building in intensity with each stroke of her hand. When she pressed her body against his, rubbing those sweet breasts against him, he nearly exploded. She was so sensual, but didn't even know it. Everything she did, everywhere she touched, every time she kissed him; Serena McGuire was perfect. He tried to block such dangerous thoughts from his head, and almost succeeded - until she spoke:

"Touch me, Gwydion," she moaned in his ear, "Love me."