by J. E. Taylor
Which left the only logical explanation. Pirates. After all, this was a hell of a boat, and it had just been drifting on the wind until a few minutes ago.
“Shit,” I muttered and set course for the Egyptian coast.
With the autopilot set, I had to get Alex off the deck. Otherwise, he’d be killed instantly by whoever stepped on board. I muttered an incantation, and a key charm grew to normal size. I unclasped it from my bracelet. With a few strides, I crossed to Alex, moving his earphone.
“If they board, we’re both dead.” I unhooked one of the cuffs and stepped back.
He glanced at me and turned, heading inside. I followed a safe distance behind, and when he disappeared into the head, I went back to the helm. He came out a few minutes later and stopped a few paces away from me.
“Why don’t you take a seat,” I said, concentrating on pushing the engine as fast as the thing would allow. “And put those things back on,” I added, nodding towards the earphones hanging around his neck.
He stepped behind me and grabbed my arms, slamming me forward over the console. His hands were already moving, pushing my swimsuit down enough for his fingers to access the warm recesses between my legs. My shoulder hit the engine kill switch. I tried to push him away. I could not have this distraction.
“Alex, we need to get the hell away from here,” I said, but the urgency in my voice was lost in his purr as his fingers slid inside me.
His hand in the center of my back kept me facedown on the hard surface as his stroke became more of an assault.
“I need this,” he whispered. His hips thrust forward, filling me with his length.
I cried out, but it was more from surprise of his entry than pain or fear. His fingers manipulated my sensitive nub in slow circles. Whatever arguments I had were lost in the sensation of him rocking in and out of me in such slow strokes that I thought I would go insane.
The hand planted in the middle of my back slid to the base of my neck and snaked to the front of my throat. His grip tightened as his stroke increased. He pulled me to his chest, squeezing my windpipe hard enough to restrict my breathing, but not enough to close it down.
The sensation of him fucking me, along with the pressure on my neck, turned on an all-consuming fire that wiped my memory of danger. All I had was this moment, this pleasure laced with pain.
His hand moved from my throat, and he pulled my legs wide, lifting me until I knelt on the edge of the helm. I pressed my hands against the edge of the backsplash, pushing into each of his thrusts. When he pulled away, I moaned, feeling empty without him, but then his cock breached my ass.
My moan shut off when his hand clamped around my throat again. His other hand resumed playing with my clit, creating a delicious heat through my body.
“Cum for me, baby,” he whispered in my ear while his fingers still caressed me. His length slammed into me, pulling out a wheezing gasp. “I want you to drench the helm,” he added, speeding up his movement.
He knew how to manipulate a woman’s body with his hand. I had a moment to wonder what his mouth would be like before his teeth bit down on my shoulder, creating a new pain that blended with the bliss. I panted beneath his hold as he growled my name low in his throat.
My body tightened in anticipation of the buildup pooling in the center of my being. His grip tightened in response, cutting off my airway. My body didn’t have the presence of mind to panic. Not at first, not when all my pleasure centers were pulsing with the need to release.
I bucked with the power of my orgasm, unable to draw air into my lungs, my body clenched with the strength of it. He pushed deep into me, crying out my name as he released with such force it caused another orgasm. This time, I did exactly as he had asked—I came so hard I sprayed the console.
His grip on my throat didn’t release. In fact, he squeezed tighter as his body shuddered with aftershocks. I grabbed the cuff still clasped to his wrist and tried pulling. His lips found the nape of my neck, and he nibbled on the skin.
I yanked harder.
“Just go with it, Kylee,” he whispered in that cold empty voice.
The languid aftereffects of a soul-searing orgasm disappeared, replaced by the burn in my oxygen-starved lungs. He had me in a position that I could do little more than flail my arms. I tried pulling my legs together, but between the pressure on my throat and his hand still continuing to play me like a human guitar, I couldn’t find the strength to move my body in a way to break his grip.
White spots filled my vision. I scratched at the hand around my throat. I bucked and one of my legs came out from under me. I used it to push off the console, sending the two of us onto the floor. The impact made his grip slip and I twisted, rolling away from him as fast as I could. I coughed, gasping air as the spots covering my vision faded. I pulled my bikini bottoms back in place and climbed to my feet.
He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling with his exertion. A tear spilled from the edge of his eye as he slowly turned his gaze to mine.
“I don’t want to kill you. I really don’t. But I have to,” he said and sat up.
My chest hurt from more than oxygen starvation. Murder reflected in his eyes. I executed a roundhouse kick, connecting with his head, praying it wouldn’t kill him.
He went down hard. I paused a minute before I crossed to check if he was still alive. My fingers searched for a pulse, and when I found one, I let out a shaky breath. My throat closed on the sob building there. Somewhere, some angel was looking after this man.
I was sure I’d have a lot of explaining to do when he finally snapped out of the siren’s spell, but for now, the bruise on his temple had already started to grow into a knot that would likely hurt for weeks, much like my nearly-crushed windpipe.
The roar of the engines gave me a start. I glanced out the window, judging distances. I had a choice. Safeguard Alex or try and outrun the fleet of three boats closing in. I glanced down at my unconscious ward and made my decision.
I dragged Alex into the bathroom, looking around to make sure nothing he could hurt himself with was within reach. I sat him on the commode and cuffed him to the plumbing. He would be uncomfortable, but he would also be alive.
Once the headphones were secure, I wrapped gauze that I found in the first aid kit under the sink around his head, including his eyes to make sure the headset stayed in place no matter what. He would be disoriented as hell, but I didn’t care. At least he would be safe and had an added bonus of being perched on the loo.
I exited and closed the bathroom door just as the boats flanked the yacht. I ran my hand through my hair and glanced at the soiled helm. There was nothing I could do about cleaning it at the moment.
The unmistakable smell of sex filled my nostrils, and I prayed those who were boarding wouldn’t catch it on the air, especially if they were siren influenced. There were too many of them for me to fight back. My heart banged in my chest. I had a split second to figure out a plan.
I collapsed on the floor within sight of the door, saying a little prayer that this was the right course of action. If I was wrong, there could be dire consequences, and I would have to tap into my siren voice to save Alex’s ass.
Chapter 12
Footsteps of at least three people shuffled onto the deck. I made the muscles in my body relax. I hoped I would look like an unconscious woman to whoever boarded our vessel.
It took me a few moments to nail down the language they spoke. Arabic. My mastery of languages helped, but for some reason, the dialect they were using was foreign to me. I only was able to pick out one of every few words. Something poked me, and I allowed a small moan to come from my lips. I fluttered my eyelids open but let them close again after getting my first view of seven men with machine guns.
A slap stung my cheek, and I resisted the punch that almost got away from me. Instead, I blinked my eyes open and slowly glanced around, letting my eyes widen. I tried to scooch away from the men like any sane woman would d
o if they were woken to a room full of men with guns.
One of them grabbed my hair, showing it to the others, telling them I would bring a lot of money on the black market. The other argued I was damaged goods. The one with my hair crouched next to me.
“Where are the men who did this to you?” he asked in perfect French.
I just stared at him. He tried again in Italian and then finally tried English.
I let my chin quiver and shrugged. “I hurt him and he stumbled that way.” I pointed towards the deck. The only other area accessible from off the deck was the crew quarters.
The fool looked up and pointed the group towards the deck, leaving only the two of us in the cabin. His grip on my hair loosened, but it didn’t release.
“How did you hurt him?” he asked, using a calm voice, but he was clearly assessing me.
“I kneed him in the balls,” I said. “And the last thing I remember is him stumbling out there, and then I blacked out.”
The gun was slung over his shoulder behind him, and the others were out of eyesight. I shot the heel of my palm up, catching him under the chin with all the aggravation mixing in my blood. The audible snap of the jackass’s neck sounded through the room.
I dragged him behind the helm and yanked the gun off his shoulder. After checking both the clip and the safety, I set the gun to controlled live fire. Positioning myself behind the kitchen counter where I could see both the deck and the front of the boat in the mirror above me, I leaned back and went over my options. I was too far away from the bathroom where Alex was bound to protect him from any stray bullets.
I was tempted to use my voice, but the ramifications if any of them got loose would be catastrophic, so I hunkered down and waited. If they all didn’t come up at the same time, or if they came from opposite directions, I’d have to do something drastic. But until this played out, I wasn’t going to get my panties in a bunch.
A radio squawked and I jumped, but luckily my trigger finger didn’t squeeze. I glanced around at the man I just killed and cursed under my breath. Shuffling noises below stopped, and then the fast patter of feet in both directions reached my ears.
Damn it all to hell. The element of surprise was gone, and now they would be running in here with guns raised, if not already blazing. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. The wisdom of this wasn’t even on the map, but I couldn’t let them shoot up the place.
I opened my mouth, willing the siren inside me to come forth. The first note was soft, almost soothing. The pounding feet slowed to a stop for a few beats before resuming at a slow pace. They arrived from both directions at the same time, their guns pointing at the ground now that I had them in my spell.
I altered a couple notes and then stopped, waiting and watching the men in the mirror. The expressions changed on almost all the pirates, confusion turning to rage and guns raised, pointing at one another. I ducked farther down and covered my head the moment the bullets started flying. My ears rang with the discharge of so many weapons in the enclosed space. When the last body fell and silence blanketed the room, I stood from my hiding place.
Just to be sure, I squeezed the trigger, burying a bullet in each head before I ran to the deck where the boats were moored. I sprayed almost the full clip into two of the three hulls. I swung to the third one and faced the only person manning the boats. He pulled a sword and went to hop onto my deck.
The last of my bullets nearly cut the man in half. He fell back into the only viable boat. The others were already taking on water. I untied the sinking vessels and went inside to gather the dead. It took me a while to get them all in the boat where my sword-wielding foe had made a valiant, but vain attempt.
Untying the last skiff, I pushed it away from the yacht, emptied the rest of the bullets into the boat, and dropped each spent weapon in the sea, waiting until the boats had nearly submerged before I headed back inside. I stopped dead in the doorway, my eyes nearly bulging out of my head at the sight of a live pirate.
His gun was trained on the middle of my abdomen and he smiled. None of the bullets had hit him. I never saw where he had hidden. In my haste to get these shits off my boat, I hadn’t done a head count.
“Hands up,” he said, but his voice wasn’t clear. It was nasally and slurred like that of a person who had no mastery over his tongue.
The truth hit like a boxer’s jab. This pirate was deaf.
I obeyed, putting my hands in the air. The fact that he was deaf saved his life, but now I was at his mercy. By the glare he leveled at me, I didn’t think he was capable of compassion.
He pointed the gun to the spot in front of him. I slowly crossed, wondering if I had a chance to get out of this. I stalled a few feet away. His face scrunched in fury, and he tapped the floor right in front of him.
I took another step. My mouth went dry.
“Right here!” he bellowed and pulled the trigger, sending a round into the floor.
I stepped to the spot he shot. His backhand spun me onto my knees.
“What happened?” he barked and grabbed my cheeks, forcing me to look at him.
“I...I shot them.” I knew lying wasn’t an option.
“No. Before. Downstairs, we ran and stopped. Then they all went crazy killing each other!”
I shrugged, my mind spinning to come up with a creative answer that would freak him out enough for me to get the gun out of his hands. “I don’t know. I heard someone singing and then all hell broke loose. That’s exactly what happened before the captain of this boat tried to kill me.” I pointed to the bruises on my neck praying this asshat knew enough about sea lore to make him nervous.
The anger thinning his lips turned into wide-eyed fear. His gaze darted around the boat. I went to stand, and the barrel swung back in my direction. His eyes narrowed as he studied me.
“Take off shirt,” he commanded.
With shaking hands, I peeled off my cover-up, revealing my skimpy bathing suit along with the scrapes and cuts of the last few days, some of which still oozed.
He grabbed a handful of my hair and pointed the barrel against my cheek. “I sell you.”
I started to laugh, but he jammed the gun between my teeth. I gagged on the oily barrel, trying to recoil. I had no power over this crazy, deaf fuck.
“You my slave,” he snarled. “You obey or die.”
As if to make his point, he jammed the barrel of his gun farther down my throat. He pushed me back and pointed to the helm, handing me a slip of paper with coordinates.
I started the engine and plugged the coordinates into the computer, glancing at the location. He had me going to a port in Libya. I couldn’t bring Alex back to land. Not with the sickness in him. I modified the direction, taking us opposite what I had plugged in, into the heart of the Mediterranean.
My only hope was to find my brother.
Deaf boy jabbed the gun into my lower back, hard. I turned and he pointed to the ground in front of him. This time an evil smile spread over his lips.
“Kneel and suck me, slave.”
Jesus, I just stepped into the wrong pile of shit. I sank to the floor, and the barrel kissed my temple. A muffled cry came from the bathroom, but the deaf man with the gun didn’t register Alex’s angry rant the way I did. It was as if the action of this bastard brought my boyfriend out of the blackness I knocked him into.
I blinked at the mental reference. Boyfriend. What an odd thought to have right before I choked down another man’s cock. The pirate tapped my temple. I glared up at him with my lips pressed together.
Instead of issuing another threat, the deaf asshole grabbed my elbow and jammed the gun into the center of my hand. The roar of the discharge filled the space. Pain locked down my ability to breathe. Then my exhale came in the form of a scream. I pulled my shattered hand to my chest as tears blinded me. Alex’s rant changed from threats to my life to threats to whoever was harming his woman.
“Suck,” deaf fuck commanded, tapping my temple again.
My
mouth was still open with pants of pain. He didn’t care that I might bleed to death while giving him a blow job. All he cared about was his slave obeying. I had been in that position once before. I froze at the demon smile on this bastard. It reminded me too much of Lucifer.
My chest seized, and air wheezed in and out of my lungs. He reached for my arm again. This time he might blow my hand clean off. I raised my good hand to the front of his cargo shorts and fumbled with the belt. I had sucked enough cock in my lifetime, but this was different. I had never been forced to give head. If I didn’t find my brother, this would be my future until whatever benefactor bought me got tired of my wiles and decided to kill me. This was my penance for using my voice against humans and failing to bring my brother down the first time.
I unzipped the man’s pants to the sound of Alex kicking the doors, stomping on the floor and screaming as if it had been his hand that had been shot to hell.
Deaf fuck pushed me away, cocking his head. He caught the vibrations of Alex’s freak out. Hell, even I felt them through the floor since any bounce of the hull shot waves of agony from my hand through the rest of my body.
I reached for the trident on my bracelet as deaf boy moved the gun in the direction of the bathroom. The incantation fell from my lips, “Deaus Neptunus in mari nascuntur tridentem istum mihi.” Before the bastard knew what happened, the weapon grew and impaled him, slicing right through his body with a searing sizzle. The gun went off. He emptied the clip as he fell, shattering the sliders and drawing a bullet line through the ceiling. The gun lasted longer than he did.
I recounted the shrinking spell, “Neptunus maris deus, fac mihi cessuros trident.” The trident retracted back into the charm size in the palm of my hand. I clasped the bloody charm back onto my bracelet and headed to find the first aid kit. My hand needed attention before I could address another dead body.
Chapter 13
