Her Very Strict Captain

by Carpenter, Maggie

  “I was just being friendly,” he softly joked. “How’s your butt?”

  “A little tender.”

  “Only a little? I need to fix that.”

  “No, you don’t,” she murmured. “Scott, why are you so cold?”

  “I’ve been busy on deck, and stop trying to change the subject.”

  “I wasn’t, and there are other ways to motivate good behavior besides slapping my ass,” she continued, lightly trailing her fingertips over his rigid penis.

  “You’re insatiable. What am I going to do with you?”

  “Stop asking silly questions and fuck my brains out.”

  Though it had been just a thought, the words had spilled from her lips.

  But she didn’t care.

  It was the truth.

  She couldn’t get enough of him.

  “You asked for it,” he grunted, pushing her on her back and resting his weight on top of her.

  “Scott, you’re crushing me.”

  “If I was crushing you, you wouldn’t be able to breathe let alone speak.”

  “Then you’re almost crushing me.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Suddenly diving his lips against her neck, he sucked in her skin like a ravenous vampire. Tantalizing sensations rippled through her limbs, and his heaviness made any movement impossible.

  “You’re all mine now,” he growled, breathing the words in her ear. “I can do whatever I want… and I will.”

  Pushing her legs apart with his own, he raised himself up just enough to slide his fingers into her sex.

  “Already wet. You’re one horny little girl.”

  She was about to tell him no man had set her on fire like he did, and his power and control made her come alive, but she didn’t get the chance. Abruptly plunging inside her and sliding his hands under her bottom, he clasped her cheeks and dropped his lips on hers, tonguing her mouth as he pumped.

  His steel rod slammed in and out of her passage, brushing against her clit with every thrust, shooting sparks through her pussy. Within minutes his passionate attack was hurtling her into an orgasm, but suddenly slowing, he broke from his fervent kiss and lifted his head. “No, not yet. It’s way too soon.”

  Gasping for air and her climax threatening, she stared up at him with pleading eyes. “You m-made your p-point,” she stammered breathlessly. “Please don’t stop.”

  “And that point is?”

  “What you said.”

  He frowned. “Repeat it.”

  “I’m all yours, and you can do whatever you want… and you will.”

  “I said you were a fast learner,” he remarked with a wicked grin. “Buckle up, sweetheart.”

  Abruptly moving off her body and kneeling up, he grabbed her ankles, raised her legs in the air, and vigorously thrust forward. Her surprised squeal abruptly changed to a cry.

  “You’re filling me. I’ve never felt—”

  But plunging inside her a second time and cutting her off, he fervently pumped without pause until she reached the brink, then slowed down for several long seconds. Repeating the pattern, he kept her on the edge, building her up then making her wait.

  “Please, Scott, please let me come,” she begged. “Please, I can’t stand it.”

  “What was it you said about motivating good behavior?” he murmured, leisurely sliding his cock in and out.

  “I’ll be so, so good.”

  Grinning, he pulled out, brought her legs down, and deftly flipped her over. She was still trying to catch her breath when he clasped her hips and yanked her into his pelvis.

  “Behaving,” he began, driving back inside her, “means you’ll follow my orders and be honest with me.”

  “Yes, Captain, I promise I will.”

  “You’ve got a really cute ass,” he continued, landing several hot slaps eliciting loud yelps. “I’ll be keeping it red to help you remember that promise, and when I tell you to crawl over my lap, you’ll pull your panties down and do it. Is that clear?”

  “Ooh, yes, please let me come?” she pleaded, his threat feeding the onset of her climax.

  “Give me your orgasm right now!”

  But she was already lost in the exploding, shimmering, endless spasms flooding every part of her being.

  * * *

  As Elizabeth shuddered through the powerful orgasm, Scott tightened his hold on her hips and surrendered to his, groaning loudly as the crackling convulsions swept through his body. Sucking in a long, deep, satisfied breath, he slipped out and padded slowly into the bathroom. Moments later, sliding back between the sheets, he found her barely conscious.

  “Scott,” she murmured groggily, her eyes half-closed. “I need to ask you something, two things, actually.”

  “Go ahead, then we’re both going to sleep.”

  “Uh… you weren’t wearing a condom.”

  He chuckled. “Sure I was, and that wasn’t a question.”

  “I didn’t see you put one on.”

  “That’s because I was already wearing it when I joined you.”

  “How did you know I’d want to have sex?”

  “Next question,” he replied, pulling her into his arms.

  “No, no, not until you answer that one.”

  He paused. “You did, didn’t you?”

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  “End of discussion. Next question,” he repeated.

  “Have we reached the island?”

  “Yep, I dropped anchor, that’s why I came down.”

  “Don’t we have to go ashore?”

  “We don’t have to do anything—well—except sleep. We’ll head to the beach in the morning.”

  “Thank God,” she said, letting out a breath. “I can’t move.”

  Surrendering to a yawn and moving an arm around her, he closed his eyes and began to drift off, thinking how perfectly she fit against his body.

  * * *

  The Shady Shack had been a waste of Dan’s time. Frustrated as he’d climbed into his rental car, he’d decided to drive back to Red Hook, hoping a search of the catamaran might prove more fruitful. If the captain had been harboring Elizabeth there might be proof she’d been on board. Now sitting at an elevated vantage point, he checked his watch.

  12:42 a.m.

  The expensive timepiece was something he had to wear.

  It had been given to him by his boss, and often felt like a handcuff.

  Lifting his night vision binoculars, he scanned the marina.

  Not a soul in sight.

  Leaving his car and stretching his cramped limbs, he popped the trunk, retrieved his small evidence case, pulled on a pair of latex gloves, and moved swiftly from the parking lot and marched down the dock. Reaching the boat, he cautiously climbed on board and approached the door to the salon. Unlocking it in seconds, he stepped inside and pulled out his small, powerful flashlight.

  It was risky.

  The beam would be seen if anyone walked past.

  Less likely to be noticed below deck, he decided to check the sleeping quarters. Finding his way down to the cabins, he moved through the first one. Coming up empty, he moved to the second.

  It appeared the bed had been hurriedly made, and shining the light on the floor, he spotted odd pieces of fluff. Picking them up, he rubbed them between his fingers, then shone his light across the bed. Another piece of fluff sat near the decorative cushions sitting haphazardly against the pillows. Intrigued, he climbed on the mattress, crawled up to them, and turned one over.

  The zipper was half open.

  As he picked up the cushion next to it, some of the stuffing dropped out. His heart suddenly racing, he placed the flashlight between his teeth and tore into each of them.

  Nothing.

  But Elizabeth had been there.

  The cushions were where she’d hidden the cash.

  His exasperation boiling over, he hurled them across the cabin.

  Taking a long breath, he calmed himself down, and as his mind cleared, he r
ealized two things; the cushions wouldn’t have been large enough to hold it all, and she’d left in a hurry.

  A frown crossed his brow.

  She may have been forced to leave some behind.

  Fifteen minutes later, a methodical search of the cabins had proven fruitless.

  He moved into the compact bathroom.

  The only possible hiding place was a small cabinet beneath the sink. Sitting rather than crouching, he opened the door to find nothing but a package of toilet rolls and a spray cleaner. Steeling himself to continue the hunt, he was about to leave when he spotted several tears across the top of the plastic.

  A knowing grin curled his lips.

  Chapter 7

  The muffled buzzing of Scott’s phone jolted him from sleep. Gently extricating himself from Elizabeth’s limbs, he moved swiftly from the bed and snatched it from the pocket of his sweatpants, but moving into the salon he was met by light streaming through the windows. Glancing at the screen, he discovered it was 8:33 a.m. He rarely slept past seven a.m. Opening the text, he was surprised a second time.

  We need to talk asap.

  A worried frown crossing his brow, he quickly pulled on a pair of shorts, walked out on deck, and placed the call.

  “What’s going on, Frank?” he asked quietly. “Where’s my info, and why do you need to talk?”

  “Hi, Scott, your researcher uncovered some disturbing information. That’s why she didn’t send it to you and I’m calling.”

  “This doesn’t sound good.”

  “It isn’t. Detective Miller was recently involved in a raid of a drug ring operating out of a mansion in the San Fernando Valley.”

  “So…?”

  “The home was owned by Sonny Conchello.”

  “Sonny Conchello?” Scott repeated. “They picked up Sonny Conchello? Holy crap.”

  “He was supposed to be there, but—”

  “But I assume he wasn’t,” Scott declared, cutting him off. “That bastard is as slippery as El Chapo used to be.”

  “Not only that, things didn’t go well, and that’s an understatement. The agents were ambushed and there were serious casualties. When the dust settled, the narcotics they found were minimal, certainly not enough to justify the raid, and there was no cash. None. Zip. Nada. But they did find the body of a guy who was identified as a DEA agent. He’d infiltrated the gang.”

  “Fuck. So Conchello has been tipped off about the raid and the undercover agent?”

  “They must have been, but Scott, Elizabeth McKay was a familiar figure at the Conchello mansion. She’s believed to have been there at the time of the raid, but word is she managed to duck out a side gate. It was enough for Miller to get a search warrant. In her apartment he found the gun that killed the undercover agent, and a few wads of cash. One of the gang members who copped a plea claimed Conchello kept a sports bag loaded with money in his safe.”

  “Are you saying Elizabeth killed this cop and disappeared with the money?”

  “I’m just giving you the information we have. You can draw your own conclusions, but Detective Miller is on her trail, and he’s determined to hunt her down. Now it’s your turn, Scott. What’s going on down there? How did Miller and McKay cross your path, and do they have any connection with our operation?”

  Scott hesitated, then made his choice. “Dan Miller is here trying to find Elizabeth McKay, and he thought she was one of my passengers. He’s been a real pain in the ass, and Frank, I don’t like him. How does an LAPD detective end up with a Rolex Submariner on his wrist?”

  “Maybe it’s a fake.”

  “The second hand moved smoothly. It wasn’t running on a battery.”

  “You don’t miss much, Scott.”

  “That’s why I’m still alive.”

  “He could have a rich girlfriend.”

  “Trust me, he’s not good looking enough,” Scott remarked with a grimace. “That hair and mustache of his would scare Cruella Deville, but send me the file on that raid, and any dirt floating around on Miller. Also, ask Penny to dig into Elizabeth McKay’s connection to Conchello. Dan Miller smells bad. He sure as hell didn’t get that watch solving crimes. But more important, the more I know, the more I’ll be able to piece this together, and figure out if either of them are linked to what we’re doing. That’s what we need to know, right?”

  “Absolutely, and the way things are moving, I have to believe their presence down there is more than coincidental. I also think it’s time to give this operation a name.”

  “Let me think about that. I’ll text it to you.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Ending the call, Scott stood on the deck and stared out at the water, his knees automatically flexing with the movement of the boat beneath his feet. Profound and disturbing questions loomed in the forefront of his mind.

  If Dan Miller really had planted the gun and cash in Elizabeth’s apartment, what had motivated him? Why did Elizabeth have the wads of money in her bag, but equally important, and even more disturbing, what exactly was her relationship with the international drug lord?

  * * *

  Lifting slowly out of a deep, dreamless sleep, Elizabeth rolled over to snuggle against Scott, only to find the bed empty. Sitting up, she yawned and stretched her arms over her head. Sunlight peeking past the sides of the window shades suggested another beautiful day in paradise.

  “You’re awake,” Scott declared, stepping into the cabin.

  “That’s the best I’ve slept in forever,” she said gratefully, thinking how safe she’d felt when she’d fallen asleep next to him. “I’m almost glad you threw that sim card away. I like being off the radar.”

  “There are times when being unreachable is a good thing,” he said with a grin.

  “Is it time to go ashore?”

  “We’ll have breakfast first.”

  “Okay. I’ll get up.”

  “Don’t take forever. I know how you females can be.”

  “That’s blatantly obvious,” she quipped, emerging naked from the sheets and crawling down the bed.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Plenty of condoms at the ready? On land you’d have notches on your bedpost,” she remarked, staring at him with raised eyebrows. “What is it on a yacht? Knots in ropes?”

  With lightning speed, he threw her backwards and pinned her arms above her head. “I’m not taking the bait, Elizabeth,” he said solemnly, frowning down at her.

  “I think you just did.”

  “Nope, I’m just getting your attention,” he continued, tightening his hands around her wrists, “and if you have knots and ropes on your mind, I’ll be happy to oblige. If we didn’t need to get to the house I’d tie you up right here, right now. But you can count on it happening very soon. You will learn, Elizabeth. One way or another, you will learn.”

  “Learn what exactly?” she whispered, daring to push the envelope.

  “When to speak, what to say, and how to say it. In other words, when it’s not wise to be a smart ass.”

  Abruptly straightening up, he climbed off the bed and walked away.

  Though a hot flush burned across her face, excitement surged through her body. The thought of being bound and at his mercy while he teased and tormented her sent a flood of moisture between her legs and goosebumps popping on her skin. She’d planned to take a quick shower, but as she slid off the bed and moved into the bathroom, a naughty grin curled her lips.

  Don’t take forever. I know how you females can be.

  He’d thrown down the gauntlet.

  She was happy to pick it up.

  Finding guest-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner in the medicine cabinet, she took her time washing her hair, then leisurely rubbed it with a towel and combed it out. Ambling back to the cabin, she opened her bag, pulled out a clean tank top and shorts, then padded barefoot up to the salon. Standing at the compact stove, Scott turned, then eyed her up and down.

  “This looks good,” she remark
ed innocently, noticing a thermos of coffee and several pieces of buttered toast plated on the table, “and it seems we have another sunny day to enjoy,” she continued, sitting down and leisurely picking up a piece of toast.

  “Actually, we’re in for some wind and rain later,” he said, pouring beaten eggs into a pan.

  “You’d never know it.”

  “Storms come and go, especially this time of year. Nothing to worry about.”

  Quietly watching him sprinkle grated cheese and chopped tomatoes into the scrambling eggs, she ran her eyes up and down his body. He could have been a professional athlete.

  “Have you ever heard the expression about the apple and the doctor?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  “Of course. An apple a day keeps the doctor away.”

  “I have a similar saying,” he declared, plating the eggs and carrying the dishes to the table. “A spanking a day keeps the brat at bay.”

  The comment caught her by surprise.

  Butterflies bursting in her stomach, and a hot blush crawling across her cheeks, she began running her fingers through her wet hair.

  “I need to give my hair another rub with the towel,” she exclaimed, rising to her feet.

  “Stay where you are!”

  He hadn’t barked, or shouted, or even raised his voice, but his authority wrapped around her as if she was in his arms and they were tightening their hold. Wordlessly, she sat back down.

  “At some point, every day, you’ll be over my knee.”

  “You can’t mean that,” she protested, her eyes wide as she stared at him.

  “I do, and how hard my hand lands on your ass will be up to you.”

  “Why would you say something like that?”