by Marie Hall
Chapter 4
Devin slipped the key into the lock then dropped his hand away. Please have cooperated. He wasn’t much to giving in to praying, but right now he needed to open the door and find that Mia did as she was told.
It had been two days now since he’d taken the makeshift paddle to her stern. Two days of her barely eating. Two days of listening to the sounds of her frustration and distress. And last night when he told her she had this last chance to stop behaving like a spoiled child or he’d give her a sound and proper spanking, which he described in detail, the look on her face made him want to sink to the bottom of the sea. It didn’t help either when he returned topside to find Grim and Hong Chin on his ship—despite his adamant refusal to have them—shaking their heads at him.
“You no get Mia happy, do as say if you scare her all time,” Mr. Hong chided him all the way up to the bridge. He continued even as Devin stepped behind the helm. “You let me talk Mia, Hong know how make Mia happy. Then Mia do as Captain say.”
The little Asian man kept at him until sunset when Grim came over, lifted him off the deck, carried him back to the stack of cargo they guarded and dropped him. The giant man then turned and again shook his head at him. Grim might not speak but he didn’t need words to convey his message. Devin knew he was mishandling Mia. Hell, his entire crew knew it.
The woman was his wife and he was barely able to spend twenty minutes in her company without getting slapped or screeched at. They’d yet to have one pleasant encounter in the week aboard together. And he was able to admit his heavy handedness over the slap she’d delivered didn’t help. Especially because he knew he’d goaded her into it.
Truth was, he’d been begging for her to give him a reason to spank her. He’d wanted her to have no doubt the games she played with her father wouldn’t be played with him. He wouldn’t be keel hauled by anyone let alone his own wife. But he knew all too well when used without restraint, punishment often had the opposite of the desired effect. He might have wanted to give the brat a sound flogging, but he maybe didn’t need to. And her response to the act?
She’d been overwhelmed by the onslaught. He might have thought her to be making it out to be worse than it was, given she was fully clothed and he’d not put his arm into the action. But her sobs and those tears weren’t an act. Nor was the way she sought out comfort afterwards. She’d pushed her whole, soft, lush body against his. Clung to him like a barnacle to a dock post. He had to peel her off. But only because if he didn’t he’d have taken her to the bed and taken, what by law, was his to take.
He’d never forced a woman, and even though she was familiar with a man’s bed, it didn’t make it right for him to take her under duress. He didn’t want her to think he’d punish her for not submitting to him as her husband. Conversely, he didn’t want her to believe spreading her legs would save her ass if she behaved poorly. Maybe he should’ve let Mr. Hong deliver this morning’s meal and the clean dress, if for nothing else than to make sure she ate it and didn’t throw half of it at his head.
Only he needed Mia obedient to him because of him. Not because someone else told her to be. With a sigh, he lifted his hand, turned the key and pushed open the door. The sight that greeted him almost made him forget it wasn’t gentlemanly to take advantage of a distraught female.
Mia stopped midway in her reach for the book when the door opened. Panic at seeing Captain Winthrop caused her to rush to snatch the book up even as she also reached for the bedding. She’d not expected it’d be him bringing her breakfast, so she’d been in no hurry to leave the bunk. She’d lain awhile there, reading and must have dozed off. The book falling to the floor woke her and she’d only climbed out to get it when he walked in.
Now she was wide awake, doing her best to back as far from him as she could. She also searched his person for the lash he said he’d use if she failed to right these quarters. He didn’t look to have one, but given the painful ache in her stern and that she no longer wore her dress, shift or even her under drawers, she’d no desire to feel even a wood slat as she’d no hope his fine linen shirt would dull the strike. She took another step backwards only to bang her head on the bulkhead.
The sound of her skull rapping the wood seemed to cause Devin to flinch and move rather suddenly. Setting the tray on the table and coming at her with long strides, the item he’d had over his arm went flying to the bed as Mia tried to scramble further back but she’d no place to go now that he’d cut off her port side escape. The bunk, a solid piece, not the common hammock, sat starboard.
“Mia?” he said her name as he reached for her and pulled her from the wall.
Mia let her feet and legs get in front of her in order to keep her backside to the wall, but the further out he pulled her the less protection she found so all she could do was try and sit. “I’ll make the bunk; I didn’t know you’d come so early. I’ll make the bunk.” It was the only thing left to do. She’d spent the whole night cleaning. Until she’d begun, she didn’t realize how much destruction she’d caused. A hurricane couldn’t have caused more. Only as the first rays of the sun pinkened the sky did she get the last of the debris she’d swept up into the pail. By then she was in disarray. Knowing her trunks were on board and a fresh dress was available, she’d stripped out of her gown. But without the help of a maid to undo the buttons she’d heard more than one renting of fabric and on inspection, after it was off and too late, she feared the gown was a loss. She’d used the shift to dry after a quick wash and simply discarded the drawers which were uncomfortable. The only article of clothing she’d found was one of his shirts. He must have worn it. His scent was heavy in the weave but she found no dirt and it was quite soft. Those soft shirttails weren’t going to save her now. “Please, no. I’ll make the bunk.”
“Mia,” he said as he put more strength into pulling up. “The bunk can wait.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and forced her to stand. Pulling her left side against him the way she’d been when he used the batten on her.
Trapped between him and the bulkhead, she put both her hands behind her hoping to shield her flesh but when his fingers settled on the lump forming on the back of her head she instinctively lifted one to protect the tender spot.
“Mia, move your hand,” he said.
She wasn’t sure which hand he meant.
“Move your hand, pirate, let me see what you did.” He forced her hand down. His touch was gentle, but she flinched and whimpered as his fingers probed the spot. “Gave yourself quite a lump,” he said, his fingers becoming more firm in the assessment. “Hurt does it?” he asked.
“Aye,” she said, then yelped when he touched the tenderest spot again.
“It must, but no blood at least,” he said.
Mia felt his chest shake as he chuckled.
“I’ll get the surgeon to fix a compress, but I think you’ll be fit to sail otherwise.” His large hand swept up and down her back then he encircled her with both arms and pulled her against him, resting his hands at her right hip so she couldn’t get her hand back. “You’ll say something if you start to feel unwell, dizzy or lightheaded?”
She could only nod and ride the chaotic storm she felt when he pressed his lips to her temple and kissed her softly.
His lips lingered and he was slow to loosen his hold and the longer he remained close the closer she wanted him to be. “Captain?” she barely got her voice to a whisper. “Captain Winthrop?”
“Mrs. Winthrop?” he queried back causing her to start at the address. Or perhaps at the very tender way he said it. He chuckled again. “I’m sorry if I frightened you, coming in unannounced. I should recall my manners and call out next time.”
“Yes, do,” Mia said. He still hadn’t moved.
“Though I can’t say I’m disappointed in what I found when the door opened.”
“It took all night,” Mia said, staying as still as possible while his hand again rubbed her lower back. She held her breath until it slid back up.
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p; “Took all night?” Again, his hand swept down, a little farther this time to the top swell of her right cheek, across to the left then back up. The hand still on her hip pulled her in closer.
“Aye,” she said with a nod. Her mouth went a little dry the same time her heart pounded a little harder in her chest. “I think I put everything back where it should go, but I think too, where it should go wasn’t where you had it.”
“Mm,” she heard him make the sound as his hand again made heading down her spine. This time the course took it completely past her equator, as Papa called it. She felt his palm roll over her hip then brush across the center of her bottom. His thumb, like a dock line left unsecured, trailed behind to touch each place a second time.
Mia shifted her feet trying to squeeze her thighs closed against the heat and wetness. “If things aren’t as you like them, Captain, I can’t be blamed.” With nothing more than a nudge the one hand she used to protect her seat fell away and he stayed on course. “We have an accord, Captain Winthrop?”
“Mmm,” he sounded again as more force was given to the rubbing.
“Captain?” Mia all but squeaked when he turned his hand so his fingers cupped the underside of her ass. “Captain?” she tried again and wondered why when he touched the tender spots did the pain cause her sex to pulse so she again needed to clench her legs. “Captain, please. Do we have an accord with this?”
“With what, pirate?”
Lifting the hand from her hip, his fingers settled around the back of her neck and with a few soft touches brushed her hair aside as his lips nuzzled into the bend where shoulder became neck. His warm breath skipped over her skin like the wind skipped over the ocean’s surface and the feel of his lips lifted like the crest of the waves. Her breath caught, then came out on a gasp as he’d somehow gotten his hand under the shirt. His fingers were wedging their way between her thighs from behind and she struggled to hold them closed against him. “Captain,” she nearly shouted when she knew he’d found the embarrassing wetness. He went still. Though he didn’t remove his fingers, he did lift his lips. “Please, Captain. Do we have an accord or not?”
She felt the tide turn in him. He lost the warmth and gentleness before he dropped his hands and stepped away. Her heart again pounded hard, this time for fear, not whatever he made her feel moments ago. As soon as he took that second step back she covered her ass with both her hands. His third step gave her room to turn her back from him, which gave her a small sense of relief.
“An accord?” His tone put a hole, broadside, in her relief. And his look felt like he was about to add anchors to her sinking ship. “What should you like us to be in agreement about?”
“The quarters, Captain Winthrop.”
She watched his brows draw down as he lifted his head and surveyed the space. His brows shot upward and his eyes went wide before his features became clam as a tide pool. “This will do for now, Mia,” he said, the smallest glint of a smile on the right corner of his lips.
“Then we’ve an accord, there’ll be no baring of my person to be bent over?”
“For this matter, no,” Devin said, leaning in to reach around and set his hand at the small of her back. “But don’t think I’ll hesitate to deal with other such mutiny on your part the same way.” He stepped aside and with pressure on her back urged her forward towards the table.
“It sounds wholly unpleasant what you proposed. I should prefer you withhold a new dress or if you must be cruel, my allowance,” Mia told him with a frown, remembering how Papa once not only withheld her allowance but took back what remained from the month before. All because she’d bought passage to the Italian coast for a week when she was supposed to be attending school in Paris.
“Is that what the commodore did when you were naughty?” he asked stopping them at the table then leaving her side to exit the cabin momentarily. He returned carrying two stools.
“I’m never naughty, Captain,” Mia said with as much indignity as she could manage. “Only uneducated children are naughty. I’m well-schooled and am a fair bit past the age of sixteen.” She watched him stop abruptly, holding a stool in either hand as he took time to appraiser her, critically. With a shake of his head he took the last two steps needed to set one stool on the floor on her side of the table before rounding to the other side, setting the second stool down and taking a seat.
“Someone lied to you, Mia,” he said whipping the cover from the tray. “Sit down and eat.” He motioned to the bowl of porridge with the knife he was using to cut the peel from his orange.
“No one lied to me,” Mia snapped. How dare he say such a thing. Or maybe he said it because he knew something. Something about why she was here and not home. “Lied to me about what?” she asked reaching for the bowl.
He laughed, setting the knife aside and pulling apart the orange. “I think a great many things. Most importantly, though, about how naughty, spoiled brats get to choose their own punishments.” He leveled a look at her that made a chill run down her spine at the same time it made her sex clench. “They do not. Now sit down and eat.”
“I’m not spoiled and I’ve never chosen. Papa taking my allowance was his idea. It was unkind and I told him so. The other girls were able to shop. I couldn’t afford carriage fare. It was cruel,” Mia said punctuating her seriousness with a stomp of her foot. “And I’m not naughty, or a, a brat.”
“Don’t stomp your foot at me Mrs. Winthrop, or I’ll show you cruel. Now sit down and eat.” He gave her another cutting look. This one chilled, but that was all.
Using a single finger Mia pulled the bowl closer, porridge wasn’t a particular favorite and the lack of apology for calling her names as well as the threat soured her stomach for the meal.
“Sit down, Mia.” The warning in his tone made her eyes fill with tears. Why didn’t Papa fight more to keep her away from this man? “Sit down.”
“I can’t,” she yelled, meeting his eyes as the tears spilled over. She wasn’t spoiled. “I can’t. You hurt me and it hurts to sit.”
He was behind her with his hand pushing down between her shoulder blades before Mia could think to move. When he had her sufficiently bent he picked up the tails of the shirt and lifted. The only sound she heard was the rushing of her blood as she waited for him to again prove he was as dangerous as Scylla and like all ships who came to close, she’d not escape unscathed.
Then he was gone from behind her, over to the head of the bunk. He lifted one pillow, hesitated, then lifted a second, before turning and coming back to her. He dropped both pillows on the seat and forced her down. It wasn’t completely uncomfortable but she did need to concentrate to keep her balance. She saw him go around and retake his seat, set his elbows on the table, fold his fingers together, and lean forward.
“Spankings are meant to hurt Mia, and the hurt is meant to last. Sitting on the hurt is a way to remember not to earn another spanking,” he said, nothing cold or unfriendly in his voice. “I hope this show of mercy on my part doesn’t encourage more misbehavior on yours. Because next time it won’t be necessary for you to sit to feel it.” He sat back and picked up the halves of the orange holding some out in offering. “Now eat.”
Mia hesitated, but taking the orange, she pulled apart the wedges and slipped one in her mouth. “Thank you, Captain.”
He made a grunting sound, leaned back further and said, “Now, why don’t you tell me about yourself.”
Chapter 5
Devin watched as Mia put her hands up to cover her ears. Mr. Hong reached up pulled down one hand and continued to berate her as he’d done since Devin brought her topside. At least he assumed the man was scolding. He couldn’t understand a word said, and hadn’t thought Mia could until she answered back in the fast, choppy language.
Devin hadn’t really believed her when she said she could speak twelve languages and knew eight dialects over three continents. Now though, it was becoming harder to deny she might well be as educated as she’d told him.
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bsp; Her father, according to her, provided private tutors starting at age three and at age twelve placed her in several good schools including Bradford Academy in the colonies, or rather America. She’d just finished attending one of the finest schools for young ladies in all of France, if he was to believe her. It was there she found herself suffering her father’s wrath for taking an unauthorized trip to Italy to explore the arts that abounded there.
Devin gave his head a shake. A bit more than a month’s loss of allowance was the worst discipline she’d ever endured. It was hardly a wonder she’d reacted so badly to being paddled. Although the large mark on the underside of her right cheek did attest to the delicate nature of her skin. She’d bruised too, where he’d held her arm while he spanked her and where she’d bumped her leg sometime while she was cleaning the cabin. He’d no intention of trying to punish her the way her father did. Clearly that did nothing to curb her. He would, though, be more aware of her delicate construction. Leather over wood might be more appropriate.
He watched as Mr. Hong pulled her hands from her ears again, and spoke frantically. She answered back, her body language saying she wasn’t giving anything he said consideration. And like a fool, the man went silent with Mia’s final words and a stomp of her foot. Devin was without a doubt a man with a brat of the first rate as wife. And he wouldn’t ignore her less than desirable behaviors.
But there was more to her. It wasn’t that she could be well educated. That wouldn’t account for the honesty in the manners she’d shown once they sat down for breakfast. Nor could her graceful comportment be so well taught. Those things were more natural. Natural enough they overtook the more belligerent aspects she’d likely learned from the company she kept in the pirate circles of her father’s men. When her guard was down she was every bit a lady. He felt his lips quirk up and a moment later his cock started to stiffen.
