Pirates, Passion and Plunder

by Victoria Vale

  "Because our mother was brought over on one." He didn't look at her. "Now get down below." The roar of the canons firing cut off any chance of future conversation anyway, and he needed to concentrate.

  Blythe

  The look of utter concentration on Mack's face had Blythe backing away. The man was caught up in a vendetta, which she fully understood. They weren't the only ones to hate the slavers. Many of the crews she'd been a part of were happy to take down the Guineamen and free the captives below. Sometimes they'd even gift the freed captives the ship. Some of those became pirates themselves, preying on those who had taken them from their homes.

  Blythe wasn't unhappy about taking the time to overtake the slaver, she was just a wee bit worried about the timeline. They did have a date in Antigua after all.

  Striding across the deck, away from Mack, she watched as the canons shot a second volley at the slave ship, wood cracked and screams echoed in the air. Several men on the other ship jumped overboard, apparently thinking their chances were better with the sea than the pirates.

  "Blythe!" Jake's hand gripped her arm, pushing her toward the back of the deck, his voice furious. "To my cabin, now!"

  "I want to help!" she protested, digging in her heels. There was a full-blown assault underway and the man was taking the time to boss her around?

  He made a growling noise, shoving her in the direction he wanted her. "Obey your captain's orders, woman, and go to my cabin and stay there!"

  Huffing, Blythe nodded and stalked off. Jake didn't spare her a second glance, but darted away to where the grappling hooks were being loaded into the canons.

  Damnation.

  She could help. But just like with the day-to-day business of the ship, no one wanted her to. Clenching her jaw against her anger, she stomped to the captain's cabin.

  Jake

  Seeing Blythe following his order, Jake heaved an inward sigh of relief. For a moment, he'd thought she would rebel, and he didn't have the time to deal with her right now. He needed her safely tucked away so he could concentrate on dealing with the slavers.

  Shouts of dismay were rising from the other ship, the sailors running around in disarray. Cowards, the lot of them. The true danger would come from the officers. The regular crew of such ships rarely had any loyalty to the officers. It made boarding them all the easier.

  Shots were fired across the narrowing gap between the ships as several of the smarter men across the way tried to hack at the ropes the hooks had carried across. Others were firing at the pirates, grim faced. Behind them, a man was walking back and forth, shouting orders. One of the officers, possibly the captain.

  A better one than most, as he was managing to keep the majority of his crew from panicking and looked as though he was managing to organize a counter assault.

  Gripping his axe with one hand, cutlass in the other, Jake gave a wild whoop, gesturing to the crew of his boarding party.

  "Give no quarter," he shouted, sprinting forward. A wild leap, one foot on the rail on his deck and he vaulted over the short gap between the ships, his other foot landing on the rail of the slave ship. He didn't need to look to know that his men were beside him.

  The clang of metal against metal replaced the sound of gunshots, as the melee made it impossible to target friend from foe. Shouts and screams of pain surrounded him. A stinging cut slashed down his arm, not nearly deep enough to hinder him, although red immediately stained his shirt.

  Throwing his axe up to block a strike, he surged forward with his cutlass, running his opponent through. Blade whirling, Jake cut through the line of men like a sheathe through a wheat field, his focus on the man shouting orders from the back. No surprise that the captain of that ship was unwilling to risk his own skin.

  Jake meant to change that.

  Blythe

  Go to my cabin and stay there!

  Well, she'd followed half of his order.

  She'd gone to the captain's cabin, picked up some extra weapons, and returned to the fight. Because she could fight dammit. It was fairly clear from the moment she stepped back on deck that they didn't need her, but that didn't bother Blythe. A little extra help never went amiss.

  From the Rawbone's deck, she stood at the rail, judging the pitch and sway of the waves rocking the boat beneath her. Taking a shot like this was risky, but she was a bloody good marksman and there were several outliers from the fight, including some who—like her—were watching the battle and waiting for their opportunity.

  Bang!

  Blythe's first shot hit one of the gunmen and his body dropped from the ropes where he'd been clinging.

  Bang!

  Second shot to the man hiding behind the barrel on the poop deck. The barrel had been providing him with both protection and stability for his musket.

  Hot fire sliced across her arm, a loud burst sounding behind her as the bullet hit the wooden deck.

  Hell and damnation. There was a man in the crow's nest. Fortunately, the wound was superficial, it did nothing more than sting as she raised her gun up to aim it at him.

  Bang!

  His body slumped over the side of the crow's nest.

  Minutes later, the battle was over, and her arm had started to throb. Blythe turned to scuttle back to the captain's cabin; she'd have to bandage the wound herself, and hopefully no one would realize that she'd been out on deck.

  She was almost there when Mack stepped in her path, eyes blazing with anger and worry.

  Well, shite.

  Chapter 9

  Jake

  Anger rode him all through the aftermath of the battle, from freeing the captives and explaining to them where they were and how to get to the nearest port where they'd have the best chance at a new life, to getting his own ship back on course, to finally being able to stomp down to where Bonny Blythe was. The furrow on her arm had been tended to, even before his own wounds had, but the blood still stained her shirt. A growl rose in his throat.

  Wrists tied together in front of her and secured to the mast, she looked caught between defiance and regret.

  The second emotion was going to win out if he had any say in the matter.

  He loomed over her, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring down at her. "Bonny Blythe. You disobeyed your captain's orders. What do you have to say for yourself?"

  The expression on her face veered more toward regret.

  "I'm sorry, Captain," she said, the words only slightly stilted. "I only wanted to help."

  "As much as I appreciate the sentiment, your help was not necessary. And it does not excuse disobedience. And you risked your life." That last made his chest tighten. He had his temper under control, but just barely, and even saying the words threatened his composure.

  Surprisingly, his censure sparked her defiance again.

  "My life is mine to risk," she retorted.

  "Not right now it's not," he said darkly, anger thrumming through him even more strongly. "I need you for Hopkin's ship christening, remember?"

  "I... you could hire a ladybird," she said stubbornly, although her shoulders hunched in. "That's what you would have done if I hadn't joined up."

  "But you did," he reminded her, bending down to grab the rope twined around her wrists and pull her to her feet. Spinning her around to face the mast, he lifted her wrists up and hooked the rope around the bolt waiting there, placed exactly for this purpose. This wouldn't be the first time he had to administer a public punishment, although Blythe would be the first woman in this position on the Rawbone. "And when you're part of my crew, you follow my damn orders!"

  Blythe

  Regret and trepidation choked her.

  She should have turned back into the cabin as soon as she'd realized her help was completely unnecessary, but no, she'd had to be a part of things. And now she was going to pay for it.

  Disobedience on a pirate ship could come with many consequences. A public flogging was the least of them, so perhaps she should be grateful, but when Jake yanked down h
er trousers to her knees, that was the last thing she felt. Her cheeks burned red as she pressed her front against the smooth wood of the mast, hoping that none of the crew had managed to see her mound.

  "Captain, please!" she begged, acutely aware of the wind and sun and many eyes on her exposed buttocks. Even when she'd realized he meant to discipline her; she'd thought he'd take her back to the cabin. "Not here!"

  Laughter met her plea, not just the crew's, but Jake's.

  "You wanted to be part of the crew, Bonny Blythe," the captain said, sounding almost amused, but his voice was still tight with displeasure at her disobedience. "Disobedient crew members are punished in front of everyone."

  SMACK!

  Before she could protest again, his hand came down hard on her exposed ass, making her shriek and jerk her hips. Hurriedly, she pressed herself forward again, so that her lower body was against the mast and—hopefully—not visible to the men now watching her discipline. Cheeks hot with shame and embarrassment, she knew that the captain spoke the truth.

  Yes, she'd wanted to be part of the crew. Hadn't wanted to miss out on the fight. And now she was paying for disobeying the captain's orders, the same way any of them would. Except, if she were a man, it wouldn't be a spanking, but more likely a whip.

  SMACK!

  She cried out again but managed to hold position. While Jake might be using his bare hand—for which she was grateful—his hand was like a plank of wood. The damn thing hurt more than she would have thought possible, not that she had much experience.

  Blythe had never been on the end of any kind of pirate discipline before. Mostly, she was allowed to go her own way.

  She couldn't remember if she'd ever been spanked.

  So she'd also had no way of predicting what her reaction to it would be. Being tied to the mast, helpless at Jake's mercy, was very like being tied to his bed, and she was having a similar reaction, despite—or maybe because of—his stern discipline and the appreciative audience.

  SMACK!

  SMACK!

  SMACK!

  The hard swats had her pressing herself more firmly against the mast, although that did nothing to help her. Her stiff nipples rubbed against the fabric of her shirt, her mound against the hard wood of the mast, and her bottom burned like she was standing too close to a fire. Yet, in between swats, her pussy clenched, her inner thighs becoming slick with unwanted arousal.

  Shame rose up inside of her. How could some part of her be enjoying this?

  Especially when her pleas were ignored, the hard hand coming down again and again on her unhappy bottom. Tears sparked in her eyes and began to run down her cheeks. She tried to grit her teeth against crying out, but the more her bottom was blistered, the harder it was to stay quiet.

  SMACK!

  Blythe lost her dignity as the spanking kept going, making her dance as her feet began to move of their own accord, no matter her determination to stay in position. She was caring less and less about whether or not any of the men saw the soft curls over her pussy and much more about soothing the growing fire in her backside... and the more shameful one growing between her legs.

  Jake

  Despite the possessiveness he'd started feeling over Blythe, there was a kind of delight in showing off his mastery over her. Especially since she'd dared to disobey a direct order.

  And Jake had always enjoyed turning a woman's body a nice, dark red. So far, he and Mack hadn't introduced Bonny Blythe to more exotic bed play, other than tying her down when it suited them, but that was going to change now. Eventually, he'd give her a spanking she could enjoy, but in the meantime, he'd enjoy her squeals and cries. The growing heat of her skin under his palm, and the newly bright complexion of her bottom cheeks while she danced for him.

  His cock was hard as a rock, and he was sure he wasn't the only one.

  Mack was at the helm, although he should still have a good view of the proceedings. Quite a few of the crew had stopped to watch Blythe's discipline, and some of those who should have been working were slacking in their tasks as well.

  SMACK!

  Blythe was practically hugging the mast, little sobs choking her cries, by the time Jake thought his message had been properly imparted to her backside. It was a nice, hot flaming red... although he wasn't quite done with it yet.

  "Back to work," he barked at the lollygaggers. They immediately jumped to what they should be doing. Pulling Blythe's wrists down from the bolt, he didn't bother to pull her trousers back up before upending her over his shoulder. She let out a shriek, squirming at the immodest position. Jake slapped her already flaming hot ass, making her cry out again. "Hold still, woman."

  She went limp over his shoulder, although he could still hear her sniffling.

  Carting her into the captain's quarters—where she should have already been—Jake marched straight over to the bed and dumped her onto it. She squealed when her bottom bounced on the mattress, immediately rolling onto her stomach, which suited his purposes. Grabbing her hips, he pulled her back so that she was bent over the bed at the waist, panting slightly as she propped herself up on her forearms, bound wrists in front of her face.

  Good enough.

  "Captain? Jake?" Her voice trembled.

  Rather than answering, Jake grinned when he stripped off her pants completely and found her pussy to be soaking wet. It seemed his siren liked a bite of pain and public discipline. Freeing his cock from his trousers, he pressed the head to her pussy and thrust in hard.

  She gasped at the sudden intrusion, her upper body starting to lift, but he put his hand on her lower back, pinning her in place. Pumping in and out of her wet pussy, he felt her muscles gripping him, pulling at his cock, while the heat of her buttocks seared his groin.

  But her sweet cunt wasn't his final port.

  Cock now slick with her arousal, he pulled out and aimed higher, grinning at her outraged gasp of shock before he pushed into her tighter entrance with a groan of appreciation. The hot, dry hole spasmed around him and she cried for mercy that he had no interest in extending.

  "Hush woman," he said, slapping one red cheek with his free hand, making her clench around him. "Be grateful I didn't do this in front of the crew as well."

  He laughed when she shuddered beneath him, her hole squeezing him so tightly, it was like she was trying to choke his dick. Leaning more of his weight onto her squirming form, he began to sink more fully into her, enjoying the way she rippled around him as he plundered her, sure that he was the first to ever explore this territory.

  Chapter 10

  Blythe

  Despite her shocked outrage as Jake's cock wedged itself into the narrow passage of her ass, forcing it to open far wider than his fingers had, a small part of her felt she should have known this was inevitable. The captain had shown a perverse interest in her rear entrance from the beginning, although until now he'd not tried to shove anything larger than his fingers into it.

  Worse, the cramping burn of his cock impaling her somehow further fueled the flames of her arousal. It wasn't enough that she'd gotten wet while he'd roasted her ass in front of the crew, now he had to shove his cock between those tender cheeks and still her body responded with interest. If anything, her nipples were now throbbing, aching to be treated as brutally as he was her lower half.

  "Nooooo..." The word came out of her on a long sigh as his cock pushed in deeper, sinking into her and making her shudder at the intense sensation of being filled rather than emptied. She didn't know if she was saying it to him or to herself.

  Shouldn't she be hating this?

  It hurt. It was humiliating. Unnatural. Perverse.

  And yet there was some part of her that was loving every moment of having her ass painfully filled with thick cock. That had loved being tied to the mast and spanked, even if she wished there hadn't been an audience...

  She wasn't supposed to be enjoying any of this, but what could she do about it? Her hands were literally tied. There was nothing to do but submi
t to Jake's discipline, the same way she submitted to his and Mack's pleasure. Being tied just allowed her to do so without the guilt she'd initially felt.

  "Yes," Jake said, his voice a low husk of desire. She jerked as he thrust forward, burying his cock inside of her, his body pressing against her hot cheeks.

  It hurt, it burned, and she felt so incredibly, painfully full... and yet so empty too. So needy. Her cunt spasmed and for one wild moment, she wished that Mack were there too, so she could be filled in both holes. The utter depravity of such a wish left her breathless.

  These men were doing something to her.

  Jake reversed directions, his cock sliding out of her, and Blythe made an incoherent noise, her nails digging into the mattress, at the strange sensation. Somehow, she felt it even more acutely than she had his thrust in, as if she was now even more sensitive.

  With his cock half in her, he paused. "Don't disobey a direct order again, Blythe."

  Before she could respond, he was plunging back in, and her entire body tightened against the sudden invasion. Not that it stopped him. He punished her ass with his cock as thoroughly as he had with his hand, riding her sore bottom as hard as he did her pussy. Blythe gasped and sobbed at the intense sensations, writhing in a kind of painful ecstasy that was too overwhelming for words.

  His hand remained on her back, pinning her in place against his thrusts, ensuring that she could do nothing more than squirm while he rutted her. There was no concern for her pleasure, and yet her thighs rubbed together, trying to put pressure on her aching pussy, her clit throbbing madly, leaving her desperate for climax.

  "Please," she began to beg. "Please, please, please..." She needed him to stop or she needed him to touch her clit, to set her off, because hanging in this limbo was a torment all its own.

  SMACK!

  Crying out, she clenched around him, the tighter fit of her muscles making his inward thrust burn more painfully for her... and more pleasurably for him. He groaned and swatted her already red cheek again, reigniting the fires of her spanking, and Blythe began to writhe as the exquisite agony swamped her.