testing me, and my impatience grows. Any longer and I shall retract my decision to spare you additional discipline,” he grumbled above her.
“I don’t see any shifts. Stays? Stockings? Petticoats?” She lifted a few pieces, digging deeper inside.
Stomping his foot, he demanded her attention, which she gave. She held his amber eyes but averted hers at each validation he emphasized. “You did not… don those when I found you. And I doubt you wore them sailing around the hot seas. Trust me, you won’t need or want those where we are going and neither do the women we sell them to.”
Dropping the garments, she stood. “Without a shift, or a petticoat, I will still be left quite exposed. My bosom shall be… uncovered. More than I wish.” Years of hearing her mother’s claims that a gentleman would never take her as a wife unless she behaved docile and practiced modesty echoed in her ears. She doubted her mother would approve of him regardless.
‘Spoon’ threw his head back and laughed like a mad man. She contemplated joining him in jest but reconsidered. Insolent and sarcastic behavior wouldn’t persuade him to provide those. And more importantly, it wouldn’t dissuade him from delivering ‘additional discipline’. His laughter subsided. She discovered she liked how his eyes brightened and lifted when he smiled. “You, Angel, do have an ample bosom. I must agree.”
She took a turn and stomped her feet. “Stop focusing on my breasts. Do you want me to get dressed or not? And what about all these clothes? You have been with all these women? Stolen them and brought them here as you have me?” Imagining him with other women infuriated her. Not one to usually get jealous, she recognized it. A ridiculous reaction under scandalous circumstances. But she assumed he completed the sexual liaisons he started with them. And he did not with her.
Seeing his eyes darken, and his jaw tighten, she stepped back. “You would do best to keep your thoughts in your head, not your mouth while here. I am attempting to treat you more as a guest, but you are trying me,” he urged.
“A guest? Well, this guest wishes to depart this ship and return to her own!”
The amber in his eyes became burning embers, scorching her skin. Clamping his fingers around her neck, he led her to the door, then stalled. Grabbing the dress on top, he thrust it into her chest, without releasing her neck. “Put it on!”
Unable to bend down and step into the garment with his hand still around her throat, she stepped in with her right leg first, holding that side up. She repeated the same struggle with her left leg. His grip only tightened if she swayed. Whoever wore the dress matched her endowments in the chest area, but unlike her, they carried the same generous portions in the waist and hips and were much shorter in height. Lacing the front, she yanked it as tight as she could to close the opening, concealing her legs as best she could. Without a petticoat or stockings, they remained bare and fairly visible.
Directing her out of the cabin, he guided her down the corridor, down two small sets of steps, into a kitchen. The still, hot air made it hard to draw in a breath. Pots hung in every direction. “Bird. I’m putting a special guest back here for the time being. Not anyone, not a single soul is to enter,” he yelled out.
She scanned the area, not finding another person, nor a ‘bird’. Had he lost his mind? Could she push someone to that extreme? Her mother thought so.
“Yes, sir. I will not.” An older man hobbled out from beside some stacked barrels.
Pressing her forward, her alluring abductor opened a small door in the corner. Forcing her inside, he took her to the back wall. A set of shackles hung halfway down. Forcing her to the floor, he caught her right wrist, lifting it up and into the contraption. “No. You can’t be serious. You can’t do this,” she pleaded. His intentions clear, she panicked. Tears threatened to flow, but she refused. How dare he? Swinging her left arm, she slapped him before he caught it. “Stop it! This is wrong.”
Both hands chained, he crouched in front of her rocking back on his heels. Almost as if he took great satisfaction in his restraint of her. Holding her chin, he held her to look at him, she closed her eyes. His lips crashed onto hers, moving them over hers. He smashed them into hers roughly. After the initial surprise of him mistaking her closing her eyes for an invitation to assault her lips faded, the same warm, uncomfortable feeling surfaced. The feeling made her want to succumb to his attentions, trusting somehow that he held the secret to alleviate her unfamiliar, but heavenly discomfort.
Resting her head against the wood, she allowed him access to her mouth. The more she submitted, the more she found she liked it. He reduced his aggression, licking and sucking her top, then her lower lip. Lifting her right leg, she bent it, rubbing against him. Feeling something hard, bulging from between his legs, she opened her eyes. It stretched the material and lay up against his lower abdomen. She realized what it must be. Shoving her leg back down, she turned her face away from him. She knew about the anatomy of men but hearing and experiencing were two different things. The reality of how close she came to engaging in sex with a stranger, a pirate, distressed her.
“What’s wrong, Angel? Did you think you were the only one enjoying our interaction?” he asked.
Keeping her face turned, she didn’t have a response. She stumbled way out of her comfort zone in his presence. Her mother and the women she kept company with detested their marital obligation, what if she did too? Here she thought she wanted this, believing so anyway, but what if she hated it?
“I’m thinking you may think twice before lying to me in the future. If I was nothing but a dishonorable man, I would take it from you, not caring if you received any enjoyment. Priscilla.” Hearing him address her by name, not Angel, she turned her head back, looking at him. “When you give me the gift of your virginity, I will take it not only with my pleasure a priority, but yours as well. As I plan on repeating it.” Rising to his feet, he left her, left her to reflect on all that occurred since she left the protection of her father for a peaceful stroll on the beach that morning.
One would think he indulged in a day of rum and ale with his mates, but he couldn’t blame either on his irrational decision. He got lucky Archer didn’t call him out when he took notice of a woman on deck and the sails lifted. To make it worse, he had to go and rescue her from the crew under the watchful eye of their captain.
He needed to figure out how he planned to handle this without losing his dignity, and the respect of Archer and the men. He couldn’t blame the crew for noticing her and wishing to enjoy the sight of her. Hell, that’s what got him in this predicament to begin with.
Passing the beach, her hair caught his eye. The mass of radiant gold hung to her waist, and it sparkled in the sun. Dismounting, he snuck up in the thicket admiring her. The sea rushed her ankles and witnessing a woman of such beauty appreciating the sea, of something he loved as he did, fascinated him. Retaining it, her, dominated him. A woman never intrigued him as the sea did—until her.
Once she turned her head and he got a glimpse of the curiosity and enjoyment on her face, he wanted to be the source and reap the rewards of such gratification. He thought he appealed to her too. With her trapped in his arm at the beach, she looked into his eyes. She didn’t shrink away from him in fear. And after their encounter in the cabin, then below, she proved it. Her reception to his physical attentions fueled his desire, but he feared he stole a lady, not a local of the island, and he planned to treat her as such. To a degree. When he ridded himself of her, he hoped she held some fond memories. He knew he would.
If he couldn’t control her and her
