"What do you want me to do?"
He laughed at that, a painful sound. "You are too sore to let me do what will cure me."
She ducked her head under his chin.
"Tell me a story to distract me."
And to distract herself, she thought, searching her mind. She told him about the Arawak Indians, long ago very peaceful inhabitants of the Virgin Islands who were destroyed, eaten, in fact, by the Carib Indians. "The Caribs ate everyone they could get into their pepper pots --- Spanish, English, and French explorers, soldiers and settlers. They're almost all gone now."
"With our luck," Lyon said in a sleepy voice, "the only two of them left are here, on our island."
"You can protect us. You have a marvelous spear."
He groaned at that.
Lyon awoke to the sweet sound of Diana's voice. He smiled, coming up on his elbows. She was not ten feet away, on her knees in front of a small fire, making something for their breakfast. She was wearing her chemise. He came up behind her silently, leaned down, and wrapped his arms around her. He lifted her hair and kissed her ear.
She stiffened, then relaxed, leaning back against his belly.
"You were sleeping so soundly, I didn't want to disturb you."
His hands came around to cup her breasts.
"I am more disturbed now than any man has a right to be."
His gentle caressing motion made her body flare. He came down on his knees and slowly turned her to face him. "Good morning," he said, and kissed her.
His hands tangled in her hair, rubbing her back, moving ever downward until he was molding her hips. He was rigid and pulsing against her belly.
"Do you know what I want to do?"
"Yes, you are being very obvious, Lyon."
She felt him pulling up her chemise, then his bare hands were on her thighs, moving slowly upward to caress her hips. She felt his fingers ease between her thighs. "You, sweetheart, are also obvious, if a man knows where to feel."
She could feel his finger easing into her easily, for she was moist and eager. She heard a soft moan, felt that moan deep in her throat as Lyon kissed her.
"I don't have enough hands," he said, his voice fierce. He closed his eyes a moment at the heat of her. "Your breasts," he began, then released her an instant. He pulled her chemise over her head and tossed it on the sand. He held her away from his and looked at her. Her breasts were heaving, her nipples taut. He drew a deep breath, jumped to his feet, and grasped her under her arms.
"Come along. It's time you found that lovemaking is even more enjoyable than making cassava bread." He lifted her, and without thought, she wrapped her legs about his flanks. He kissed her mouth, her chin, pressed her head back to get to her throat and breasts. Her hair hung loose down her back, reaching nearly to the sandy beach.
"You are so beautiful," he said, his hot breath on her breast. "And your taste, Diana"
She was gasping, feeling so urgent that she didn't know what to do. Her fingers kneaded his arms frantically. "Oh, dear, Lyon," she whispered.
The loud boom of a cannon came like a crack of thunder. Her legs tightened about him and she tried to focus her eyes on his face. She heard him curse, floridly.
He eased her down his body. "I don't believe it," Lyon said, gulping in huge drafts of air, his hands still stroking up and down her back, tangling in her hair.
There was another loud crack.
"A cannon," she said.
"Yes, Rafael returning for us, damn his eyes!"
"The signal fire," she managed.
Lyon released her, bent down, and retrieved her chemise. "Put it on."