“I’ll be back shortly with something to break your fast.”
“Aren’t they going to think it odd that the captain is serving the cabin boy?” Caragh asked.
Rowan released his breath and stared up at the ceiling. “You were right. They are well aware you are no cabin boy. A few heard your brother caterwauling your name, and those who hadn’t, heard you, or rather us. It left few doubts.”
“And they believe you brought a whore aboard for your pleasure.”
Rowan’s face flashed a warning, and this time Caragh chose to cease talking.
“And just where would I have gotten one of those to sneak aboard the ship, when every man on this ship was involved in that raid in one way or another? They all know who I brought aboard, and not a one of them suspect you to be a whore. A smuggling ringleader perhaps, but most definitely not a whore.”
Caragh nodded and looked to the tub, the steam inviting her to soak.
“Get in and soak while it’s still hot.” Rowan slipped from the cabin.
Caragh spent the rest of the day alone. Twice there was a knock at the door, but when no one entered she slowly opened it to find a tray on the floor. Rowan came back to the cabin for the evening meal, and while they shared conversation about the places he had traveled and the most interesting contraband Caragh had hidden, there was little to keep Caragh’s mind from worrying about why he never allowed her out of the cabin or how her village faired. When they finished the meal, Rowan eased her from her chair, and they stood toe-to-toe once again. He made no move to touch her until she nodded once. It was all Rowan needed before he ripped his leine from over her head. He had been in agony through the entire meal, seeing her seated across from him with nothing on but his oversized shirt. He knew what was barely hidden below the fabric, and he ached to sink into her warm sheath and lose himself there for another night. Their passion would be no less scorching that night than it had been the night before.
Rowan walked Caragh backwards until they reached the bed. She scooted back until she met the pillows while she watched him strip off his clothes. She had smelled the fresh scent of soap on his skin when he returned to the cabin, so she knew he had bathed somewhere. Now his hair fell about his shoulders as he crawled onto the bed. He seemed to prowl toward her like a big cat stalking his prey, except she was not trying to escape. She opened her arms to him and welcomed him as they joined together.
“I missed you today, mo leannan.” Rowan purred beside her ear.
Caragh forced herself to keep her mouth shut. She wanted to snap that he could have come to visit her if that was the case, but she would not ruin the moment.
“Me, too,” she murmured instead.
Those were the last words spoken for a long time. Rowan slid down her body until he could nuzzle the thatch then the slick skin that sheltered the place he most wanted to be. He used his fingers to spread her nether lips as he licked the creases until she writhed. He brought her close to the brink over and over but denied her release.
“Are you punishing me again?” she whimpered.
“No. Not even close. I may be denying you pleasure now, but it will only make the climax all the more powerful when it finally comes.”
Caragh’s fist pounded the bed in frustration as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, and Rowan realized that she was far too inexperienced for the type of games he was used to.
“Shh, mo Caragh. I’m not punishing you. I thought to tease you for your enjoyment, but I forgot you are not familiar with this kind of love play.” He kissed away the salty tears as he slid into her. He braced himself to keep from being too rough. He was resolved to be gentler after the way he lost control the night before.
“I want to learn, Rowan, but I ache so badly. It’s painful, and I don’t enjoy when I’m forced to wait for you. I don’t know what to do to ease the ache so I can enjoy this game you want to play. Rowan, I need you.”
They were the same four words as the night before, and they were just as powerful as they had been then. He sank into her with all the tenderness he could muster, a tenderness he would deny he possessed if ever questioned. He brought her to the brink and followed her over the edge, pulling out just in time. As he withdrew, Caragh’s whimper made him look up. He saw she was looking at him, but he could not tell what her thoughts were. It was the first time since meeting her the day before that he could not read her emotions as though they were his own. Before he could wonder if she was sad, she opened her arms to him. He lowered himself into her arms and held her as she wrapped herself around him. They remained that way until Rowan’s arms shook and he worried he would squash her if they gave out. He pulled away and fetched a cloth to bathe her once again. This time she allowed it, but silently insisted that he let her return the favor. She scooted off the bed and came to kneel before him. She looked up at him, and his heart skipped at her look of joy, for that was the only way he could describe the way she appeared as she kneeled before him to serve him. Rowan suddenly understood what she had meant the night before, how she had felt rejected.
Caragh was a package of contradictions bound by the most beautiful wrapping he had ever seen. She was strong and fiercely independent. After all, she orchestrated an enterprise that kept her village well fed and, by all accounts, fairly prosperous. At the same time, she was adventurous to her own detriment, but this lent an air of playfulness to matters when it was just the two of them. He knew she enjoyed a level of pain with her bed sport, and she did not oppose his spankings. She accepted them and had even shown remorse. But it was the contradiction before him in that moment that he finally understood. She had said it the night before, but he had not recognized its meaning. She feared what would happen when she did not please him. He had only interpreted her words as a concern for the future, not a desire in the present. She wanted to please him, and now as she kneeled before him, she felt she had the opportunity to do just that. Never mind the glorious releases she brought him; it was now that she seemed to bloom. Rowan could not have anticipated her submissiveness, but it called to his dominant nature.
He leaned back and opened his legs as she shuffled forward. She was careful with her ministrations as she bathed him, but her nearness and touch were enough to awaken his desire again. As he hardened in her hand, she stroked him until a pearl appeared at the tip of his shaft. She had been inquisitive the night before when she had seen his cock do the same thing. Now she was in a position to satisfy her curiosity. She leaned toward him as she watched him. Her tongue flicked his tip, and when she was not repulsed by the taste and he did not pull away, she circled the tip. Air hissed through Rowan’s teeth as he watched her slide his rod between her lips. He could feel her tongue caressing his length as she took more and more of him into her mouth until he brushed the back of her throat. He worried she might panic, but instead she hummed. The vibration made his bollocks tighten. She reached out and cupped them as her brow furrowed in confusion. She rolled his cods in her palm, and Rowan thought he would expire right there. She worked his length as her head bobbed. What she could not take in, she used her hand to caress. Rowan refused to touch her because if he did, he was sure he would hold her head in place while he thrust over and over. He had told her more than once that she was no whore, so he refused to treat her like one. Women had offered him such a service more times than he could count, but he knew it was not for their enjoyment as much as it was the coins he would leave behind when he left. Caragh offered this with no expectations of anything in return. She offered because she wanted to serve him. He fisted his hands into the sheets and leaned back. He squeezed his eyes shut as sensations stronger than any he had ever felt coursed through him.
His shift in position caused Caragh to move, and she found it easier to take more of him into her mouth. She forced herself to relax and move past her gag reflex. Once she calmed the panic that wanted to take hold, she was able to take him all the way in until he slid down her throat. Rowan groaned as he recognized a move that only the
most experienced women had been able to perform. He could not hold back. He reached to push her shoulder, but she batted his hands away and squeezed his cods gently. It pushed him beyond his limits and stars danced before his eyes as his release filled her mouth and dribbled from the corners. He tried to sit up, but his body felt boneless. He could barely see her, but he watched her puzzled expression as she licked her lips and smiled. He was unprepared for the peck of a kiss she placed on his tip before she stood up and sat beside him on the bed. He drew her back to lie next to him. He pulled her into his arms and held her, glad she fell asleep quickly because he was struggling to not drift off before her.
Chapter 7
The next week passed in much the same was as Caragh’s first full day aboard the ship. Rowan left as the sun rose, meal trays arrived twice a day, and then he returned for the evening meal. They chatted until they were finished eating, then they spent most of the night exploring one another’s bodies. It was her eighth night when she finally convinced Rowan to take her the way she offered their first night. He brought out a vile of oil and warmed it over a candle.
“Caragh, if this is too painful, you must stop me. This isn’t one of those things to grin and bear. I could seriously hurt you if you don’t stop me. I must have your promise.”
“You whittle like my gram,” she complained. “You must be popular indeed if you show this much concern for all your bed partners. I imagine they fleece you when they beg off in the middle.”
Rowan placed the vile on the table and stepped toward her.
“This is not a joke, Caragh. You will go over my knee if you disobey me on this. I will not risk harming you, and if I can’t trust you to be honest, then we won’t proceed.”
“This seems like quite a lot of fuss for something you supposedly enjoy.”
“I have never been anyone’s first anything. The women in my past did this as their trade. They were well broken-in before I ever encountered them. They knew what to expect and were prepared.” He pulled her into his embrace before resting his forehead against hers. “I didn’t have to worry because I didn’t care. I do now.”
He pecked her nose and stepped back to get the oil. He poured a small amount over his fingers of one hand and then into the palm of his other hand.
“Climb onto the bed just as you did the first night.” He came to stand behind her. The oiled palm kneaded the flesh of her backside until her arms buckled, and her head dropped onto the mattress. He pressed one oiled finger against her rosebud as his hand continued to massage one globe then the other. When he gained entry, he paused as he let her adjust to the sensation. She shifted once before pressing back against his finger, taking him further into her dark passage. He eased one, then two more fingers into her as he worked to spread her in preparation for his cock. He knew he was a large man and that not all women could handle his size. It was this awareness that made him hesitant about introducing Caragh to this final type of bed sport. When his fingers moved smoothly, he poured oil onto his rod and slathered it until his hand nearly slipped from his cock.
“Caragh, remember what I said. Tell me to stop if it’s too much. Do not take more than you can because you think it’s what I want.”
Caragh grunted in response as she pushed her hips higher. Her lack of proper response earned her a hard swat. She raised her head and shook her backside at him. Rowan could not help but chuckle at her clear invitation. The next three spankings were done playfully, but he could see the moisture pooling at the entrance to her sheath. She was fully aroused, and Rowan nearly abandoned this plan for sinking into her cunny. But he knew she would not accept the change without feeling hurt. He would admit it only to himself, but he missed being able to spill inside her. It was not for the same reasons that he had enjoyed finishing inside a woman in the past. This time he desired the closeness they had only shared that once, and he knew she felt the same way, even if neither would say it out loud.
He aligned himself with her and pressed the tip against her entrance. She pressed back against him, and he slid within her. Rowan moved slowly and watched Caragh for any signs of distress. He could see her hands fisted the sheets, but her legs did not shake, and the sounds she made were ones of concentration rather than pain. He paused when he was halfway inside her. He did want to go any further this first time, but he felt her hand against his thigh. She patted him in reassurance.
“I can do it, Rowan. I want to.”
Rowan gritted his teeth as he sank all the way in. He thought he would explode from the way her body squeezed him, but he did not move again. He waited for Caragh, and when he did nothing else, she lifted onto her elbows to look back at him. His fingers bit into her hips as he held himself still.
“Is that it?”
Rowan growled as he tried to hold back, sweat breaking out across his forehead.
“Rowan, I asked if that’s it. How is this enjoyable for you if you’re barely willing to breathe? Should one of us be moving?”
“If you move, I will explode. Caragh, for the love of all that’s holy, be still. For once, just be still,” Rowan choked out.
With a huff, she leaned back down. The subtle shift was all it took for him to sink ever so slightly deeper. They both moaned as Rowan’s hips rocked forward of their own volition. Caragh pushed back against him, and his hands slid to hold her breasts. He played with the full flesh, and he found her nipples only to tug on them and pinch. Caragh grunted as she passed the point of pain and floated into pleasure. One of his hands skimmed down to the apex of her thighs until it found her nub. He pressed and circled until her back arched, and she shattered in his arms. He could not hold back any longer. He let his climax carry him along with her as his seed jetted from him. Every time he thought no more could leave his body, his sword twitched within the tightest sheath he had ever felt. When he was sure they both were satisfied, he took great care as he withdrew. He helped Caragh to her feet and led her to the chamber pot behind the screen. He knew she would need a moment of privacy. He cleaned himself as he reflected on what just passed between them. Caragh had not recoiled in horror or fright, instead encouraging him to continue. This night had been just like every other when he showed her new ways for them to come together. He had either corrupted her beyond the point of no return, or she was the most perfect mate he would ever meet. He was sure of the former and suspected the latter. For the first time since leaving home, he found himself regularly praying, and it was always the same refrain. He prayed that he meant as much to Caragh as she was coming to mean to him.
She stepped around the screen, and he swept her into his arms. He carried her to the bed and lowered her, encouraging her to roll onto her stomach. She rested her head on her crossed arms. He straddled her hips as he massaged the tension from her shoulders, then her back. He knew the knots were there for a multitude of reasons, but he would do what he could to ease them. She hummed and moaned with pleasure as often as she kicked her feet, tensing as he worked through the kinks that plagued her. When he knew she would not be able to bear much more, he stroked his hands over her back. She twisted, and he lifted enough for her to roll over. He leaned forward to kiss her, his tongue tangling with hers. When they broke apart to gasp in air, he moved to lay on his side looking at her. She rolled toward him, and his hand rested on her hip.
“Rowan?”
“Mmm.” He smiled, and her heart melted. He looked so boyish and charming. She had watched his transformation each evening when he returned to the cabin. He entered a weary and haggard ship captain, but it took only a few minutes of time alone chatting for him to relax and cast off the stressors of the day. She understood why he enjoyed the sanctitude of the cabin, but it had become her prison, a gilded cage, and she was the songbird that wished to spread its wings.
“Rowan, will I ever be allowed to leave this cabin?”
His fingertips that roved mindlessly over her waist and hip came to a stop. “I never didn’t allow you to leave.”
Caragh pushed onto
her elbow. “Don’t mince words with me, Rowan. You may not have explicitly denied me the right to leave this cabin, but your intentions were clear. I haven’t seen another face or heard anyone else’s voice but yours in over a sennight.”
He jerked his chin back and his brow crinkled. “Skinny said you’ve cleaned your plate at every meal. He teased me about your appetite.”
“So?”
“How can you say you haven’t seen or heard anyone when Skinny brings your meals twice a day?”
“I haven’t had a clue who delivered the tray or cleared it away. I get a knock on the door and by the time I open it, there is no one there and the tray is sitting on the ground.”
“On the ground?” Rowan jerked into a seated position before swinging his legs over the edge. “They’ve put your food on the ground? Every meal, Caragh?”
She could only nod her head. She was not sure why he was so concerned about where her tray was placed when she was asking for a chance to leave the cabin.
“Rowan, what about me being able to leave the cabin?”
“Like hell you are now.” He pulled leggings on and stormed out of the cabin without a shirt or boots.
Caragh scrambled to pull on her leggings and her shirt, which had sat clean and folded since the second day she arrived. She followed Rowan out of the cabin, but kept back as he stormed onto the deck, yelling names she did not recognize. She watched as he plowed through a group of sailors and yanked a man to his feet who was nearly as large as the one she fought in the cave. She covered her yelp when she saw Rowan’s fist fly and land under the man’s chin. The giant staggered backwards, but Rowan followed him. He rained down one blow after another until the man raised his arms in surrender.
“Get on your feet, maggot. I’m not nearly through with you.” Rowan pulled him by the collar until he stood eye-to-eye with Rowan, even if he had several more stones of bulky weight to his frame. “You know bluidy well why I’m livid. How about you tell the others what you’ve done?”
Pirates, Passion and Plunder Page 31
