“It seems you have a gift with these ruffians,” Drake murmured to Charlotte as the merriments began to wind down.
She laughed. “I should hope so! They’re all good men, Drake.”
He knew. He knew intimately that each and every one of these men, no matter their background or history, possessed a good heart. They all looked out for each other on this ship -- this motley crew of men was the closest thing to a family he had ever known.
Drake drank in the sight of Charlotte, who was sipping her beer and watching over his men with a fond eye. Already she’d grown attached and the men obviously loved her in return; some of them had already come up to Drake and, in their inebriated state, made it clear that he should “tie her down” as soon as possible.
Would she consent to joining their family?
Drake opened his mouth to ask, but Pietri suddenly appeared at her side as if he simply melted out of the shadows.
Charlotte startled. “Don’t do that! I get enough of a fright from Drake’s antics as it is.”
Pietri gave a courtly mock-bow, remnants of his noble past. “‘pologies. But if you’d like to get backta shore, night’s fallin’ fast.”
She looked down at her feet then squeezed her eyes shut, looking for all the world like a prisoner going to the noose. “I suppose I must leave sometime. Thank you, Pietri, for having me here. It was one of -- nay, the best afternoon of my life.”
She gave him a heart-stopping smile, and even the lady-killer looked stunned. Drake felt a quick stab of jealousy that he hid by gruffly standing, offering his arm to Charlotte.
“I’ll walk ya back home as per tradition, li’l Duchess.”
“Yes, because you are quite the stickler for tradition, Sir Pirate.” Charlotte teased gently, and Drake couldn’t stop the smile that spread slowly on his face.
“Oh, git on with it you lovebirds.” Pietri said, rolling his eyes as he practically shooed them onto the deck.
It was a very noisy ride back to shore, with Drake and Charlotte chattering nonstop about themselves. In retrospect, Drake wondered if he’d somehow sensed the danger that lay ahead, and was trying to share as much of himself to her before it was too late.
He told her about being born Albert Windsor III, his absolute miserable childhood of being shut indoors when all he’d ever dreamed of was the sea, how he’d bought a boat after his father had died and left him the fortune, how he convinced his closest friend Peter von Eien (now Pietri) to join him on the open seas. How he’d taken the name Drake after his great-great-great uncle, who’d also left home to be a pirate and been scribbled out of the family tree as a result.
“It’s as if you’ve done everything I wish I could have done,” Charlotte said at the end of his story with shining eyes.
He almost told her then, almost told her that you can do it, if you come with me.
But he decided to wait until later, when the date of her marriage drew closer and she’d be more willing to leave everything behind.
It was almost the biggest mistake of his life.
Chapter 5
Although Drake couldn’t accompany her to her doorstep now that soldiers were hunting for his head, he brought her so close she could see the top of her manor peeking through the houses.
“Go!” she hissed, making sure he had well and truly left before heading back.
Waiting for her in front of her gates was the prince on horseback with four soldiers in full cavalry. Charlotte was struck with how powerful he looked -- for the first time it occurred to her that he wasn’t just some strict British noble, he was the Prince Regent of England.
His dispassionate glance surveyed her, taking in her rumpled dress, her sodden shoes, her wet clothes and hair.
“I see my fiance likes to take dips in the sea.” he said finally, eyes so cold it chilled her to the bone. “Was that what you were doing after the Devonshire ball as well? Or no, I heard it was a mystery man that stole you away into the night.”
He slipped off his horse and walked closer, each step slow and purposeful. She could hear the anger in every heavy footfall. The prince reached forward and pulled her chin up, smelling the scent of healthy male and the salt of the sea on her skin as he brushed the shell of her ear with his lip.
“Imagine. My own fiance, cuckolding me with a lover before our marriage. With a sailor, of all people! How the people will talk.” The prince suddenly put two hands on her shoulders, pushing her back into a soldier that had magically appeared behind her.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” Charlotte furiously wriggled in the soldier’s grip, but he flung her into a waiting carriage with little effort.
“Be a good little princess and wait in the ivory tower, won’t you? It’s far too late to cancel the marriage and since you’ve been so...uncooperative about the whole courting process, I’ve decided to move up the wedding. I assure you, your lodgings are so luxurious you’ll hardly notice the three days go by. And don’t worry about your reputation, dearest. These guards are part of my personal regiment and I pay them rather handsomely for their silence.”
“Our wedding is in three days?” Charlotte asked, so shocked she could hardly believe his words. Her whole world was spinning on its side and she could feel herself suffocating again -- how could she have been so happy not even an hour ago, on Drake’s ship?
Drake. Oh god, she’d never see him again. He’d never risk a visit to the heart of the city, let alone break into the castle just to see her. And who could blame him? As an enemy of the Queen, he’d be sent straight to the gallows if he was caught.
If only she’d never left the ship. If only she’d fought harder to stay with him, if only she’d asked if he might be willing to take her with him! She’d taken it for granted that she had more time, and now…
Charlotte felt tears rolling down her cheeks as she felt the wheels of the carriage rumbling to life. In a desperate attempt to escape, she threw her body against the door but the guard next to her caught her before she was close and hurled her back against the seat. He held her there for the entirety of the trip as she screamed and tore and bit with all her might.
Freedom had been so close! She fought for herself, for the life she might have had, for her liberation. For the fresh spray of sea against her face. For adventures in new lands she’d never even heard of.
For Drake.
But it wasn’t enough. The guard was far too strong, and when the carriage next stopped and the prince swung the door open it was easy to see that they were inside the gates of the palace. There were guards at every outpost, with what she assumed was the prince’s personal regiment lining the pathway inside.
Charlotte gave up then. All the life went out of her and she meekly entered the grand palace without a peep. The prince seemed pleased, for once.
“There. Was that so hard?” He waved the guards away and gestured for her to take his arm. When she refused, he forcibly entwined her arm with his and led her through the castle. They went up a winding staircase that seemed to go on forever, climbing higher and higher into the sky. Finally, the prince opened a room on the very top with his key and motioned her inside.
It was a beautiful room, and in any other circumstance Charlotte would have been delighted at the huge canopy bed, the huge fluffy cushions and the huge window. As it was, she’d never felt more like a bird in a cage.
“This will be your room for the next three days. Please do try not to make too big of a fuss -- your mother will be sleeping in the adjoining room to ensure your good behavior.”
“My mother knows I’m here?”
“Of course. It was her idea, actually, when I mentioned seeing you disappear twice with a strange man.”
Of course it was her idea, the old witch! “You...saw me twice?”
“I was visiting your estate when I saw you run out in what appeared to be a great hurry. I managed to follow you to the docks, but I lost you in the crowd. It was only by great fortune that I came upon you by chance -- y
ou exited out the back of a warehouse with a man.”
The prince looked at her with slitted eyes, obviously incredibly annoyed. “It was at that moment I knew without doubt that you were not the proper young lady I had thought you were. I had made up my mind to cancel the whole affair, but your mother assured me that you would settle after marriage.”
He smiled rather unpleasantly, as if relishing the idea of breaking her mischievous side. She shuddered and took an unconscious step away from her fiance. It was like when Drake’s polished gentlemanly mask slid off, but instead of an adventurous, accepting man, she saw a snake behind the prince’s courtly veneer.
“Surprised? Neither of us are truly what we seem, I suppose. Have a relaxing three days, princess -- the whole ton is talking about our wedding.”
With that, he shut the door with a bang.
The next night and day passed in a blur. Her mother wouldn’t let her out of her sight, sleeping when Charlotte slept and eating only when Charlotte did to make sure she behaved. She needn’t have bothered -- even if Charlotte could run, where would she go? Who would she run to?
Drake, her heart seemed to throb with every beat. Drake.
On the second day, there was a knock on the door. Her mother opened it and discussed something with the guard there for a while before she beckoned Charlotte over.
“Apparently the prince has something to discuss with you privately,” she sniffed. “Why he doesn’t want me there, I can’t imagine.”
“Just following orders, ma’am,” came a very familiar voice. Her heart leapt in her chest with first disbelief, then radiant joy, then fear as she followed the “soldier” out into the hall.
“Drake…?” she let herself whisper when they were alone. The soldier whirled and slammed her against the wall, pushing his lips against hers, opening her up and tasting her. She gave herself to him willingly, whimpering his name while their tongues danced together. One hand came up to tug on her hair and forced her head back; Drake set upon her neck like a starved man, kissing and licking down her cheekbone and onto her collarbone.
She moaned and wiggled beneath his weight, asking for more, pleading for more. He chanted her name like a mantra as he pulled himself up and leaned his forehead against hers, both of them panting and flushed.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I was late. He didn’t hurt you, did he? Did he touch you?” Drake growled, his voice so dark with rage that it sent shivers of arousal up and down Charlotte’s spine. She shook her head.
“I thought he might have -- to think he’d have taken you --” Drake was almost incoherent with rage and desire. Upon seeing a door standing slightly ajar, Drake pulled Charlotte into an empty room, pushing her down onto the bed and slipping on top of her. She throbbed with equal parts fear and anticipation as he kissed down her jawline, nibbled the top of her ear, trailed down her neck…
With practiced ease, Drake undid her laces and slid her layers off one by one until only her chemise separated her and her modesty. She gripped his vest and he stilled instantly, watching her every movement for a sign, any indication at all that she was unwilling to go through with this.
She burned with need, her every vein on fire with lust until she could no longer think of the consequences as she lost herself in his dark, heated gaze. She moved her hand to shakily rip off his vest letting it slump to the ground. He murmured appreciatively and threw his shirt off, giving her a full view of the myriad of scars and tattoos that littered his tanned skin.
Charlotte gasped and leaned forward, touching him so gently her hands barely feathered over his skin. He shut his eyes and shuddered as she trailed her fingertips lightly over every single scar and bruise, over every line of muscle in wonder at his very male body.
Unable to resist any longer, he pulled her up and crushed his lips on her own briefly kissing his way down to her breasts. He palmed one swell in his hand and licked the tip tentatively, drawing a moan. He sucked on her nipple in earnest, first one then the other, and she threw her head back, grinding her hips against him in a silent plea for him to relieve the ache between her legs.
He complied, dipping his head down until she could no longer see him but she could feel him, feel his breath on the forest of curls that covered her most secret place. She squirmed in embarrassment but he stilled her with one gentle hand, deftly licking a spot that made her shudder.
“Drake, Drake,” she mumbled incoherently as the pleasure built, the smooth strokes of his tongue easily matching her hips as she tried to get away from the intense sensation of heat that pounded through her body. She was a prisoner to his touch, moaning and yelping, her body arching as he continued his relentless exploration, wound so tight that she felt at any point she would break.
“Shh, doll. It’s alright.” Drake comforted as he inserted a finger, then two into her tight wetness. She blushed furiously, covering her face with her hands as he scissored her, preparing her for the joining that she knew was to come.
Finally, when she was beginning to feel like the torment could continue no longer and she was screaming for Drake, she felt him shift over her, a hard something pushing against her. She pulled away at the invasion and he leaned down, asking for her kiss. She gave it to him willingly and she sobbed into his mouth as his hardness breached her, penetrating her in an equal mix of pain and pleasure.
He stayed still for a couple moments, allowing her body to adjust to his width. Then he started moving, first slowly, then faster and faster, his eyes closed shut as he felt himself moving within her. The pain receded slowly and the pleasure once again flooded through her until she knew nothing but Drake, Drake carving himself within her, Drake touching her breasts, Drake invading her made, conquering her, taking her over and over again.
A crescendo built, her back arching in pleasure as sparks flew across her eyes, his hardness rubbing against a spot within her that made her yelp and moan as she moved with each of his thrusts.
She screamed as her body reached climax, shuddering and tightening her insides as he moaned and his hardness broke, flooding her from within.
They held each other for seemingly hours afterwards, basking in the other’s presence.
“Charlotte,” he murmured, “would you do me the honor of joining my crew?”
Charlotte, heart shining in her eyes and tears hovering in her throat, nodded.
When the two of them walked out, Charlotte had to consciously school her expression so as not to look too thrilled to be in the hands of a guard. Drake strode confidently forward even when other guards passed by; no one even looked at them twice.
But it was different once they got near the gates -- several guards looked at Drake in confusion, and she could practically hear them mouthing do you know that guy?
“Drake.” she whispered through gritted teeth. Drake didn’t react, but headed for a slight figure in a dress nearby. Helen!
Helen floated over in her ethereal way, nodding at Drake and handing Charlotte a bag before rapping imperiously at the soldiers that guarded the gates. The two large guards jumped to attention -- they obviously recognized who she was.
“Yes ma’am?”
“Let me through, will you? Charlotte has a fitting to get to -- her wedding dress won’t make itself you know.”
One of the guards seemed unconvinced. “But the fitting was yesterday...and the prince told me not to let anyone out without his presence.”
“Do you not know who I am?” Helen seemed to grow before them, a powerful figure as she pulled rank. “I am the Duchess of Devonshire’s daughter, and a fantastic seamstress to boot. If you must know, one of her measurements went wrong yesterday and out of shame the dressmaker asked me, an intimate friend of both Charlotte and the prince, to take a second set. Now if you’re willing to be responsible for a wedding dress that doesn’t fit, please, be my guest.”
The guards waved them through rather hurriedly after that.
Outside the gates, Helen turned to Charlotte and embraced her. “Be happy. T
hose clothes in the bag are my gift to you -- use them wisely.” She turned to Drake. “And you! I put myself at great personal risk for you, Sir Gentleman Pirate. Don’t even think of returning here without some fantastic stories to tell in exchange.”
“Of course,” they both replied in tandem. Drake grabbed her arm and began to tug her away.
“Goodbye, Helen!” Charlotte waved, and then they both ran.
Through the city, past the fish market, beneath the docks, on the rowboat. Once she clambered up on the side of the ship, a huge hurrah came from the crew.
“Yeh made it!” Pietri grinned as he bustled about getting the ship ready to sail. Pirates were everywhere: hoisting the rigging, in the crow’s nest, pulling up the anchor. Drake, with a hand around Charlotte’s waist, made his way over to the wheel.
AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories) Page 96
