Under Her Brass Corset

by Brenda Williamson

  Her family had led simple lives. They’d never lacked for food so she never thought about fancy meals. Randolph had higher standards. He liked expensive wine, restaurants that required reservations and exotic foods. She didn’t give it much thought, but in hindsight she saw how more and more they weren’t suited for one another.

  “An apple?” the captain asked, his words garbled but understandable as he bent down inside the barrel.

  “Yes, please,” she answered, happy to have anything.

  He looked back at her with a frown. “I’m sorry, I thought there were some in here. What about some strawberries or grapes, or maybe a peach?” He lifted the lid off a crate next to her.

  Abigail glanced inside the empty container.

  “Hmm.” The captain rubbed his jaw. “I see I should have considered stocking up again.”

  She thought it odd he searched for foods he mentioned but came up with nothing. It didn’t seem logical that he didn’t know what he had when it was just him alone on the ship.

  “This is enough.” She held up the hard loaf. “I can make do with just about anything.”

  “I don’t want you to have to make do. As soon as we get to the first port, I shall buy you a scrumptious meal, a supper you can feast upon to your heart’s content.”

  “And should we happen to arrive in the morning?” She smiled.

  “Then it will be the biggest breakfast you can down. Shall we take your, um…meal to my cabin?”

  She liked it better when he called it our cabin. “I should get washed up first.” She glanced at the soot on the backs of her hands.

  “By all means, feel free to use the shower closet, or better yet, how about a bath?” He plucked a tin plate from the rack on the wall and held it out.

  She sat her bread on the plate. “That would be wonderful.”

  He took her hand and led her across to the storage room. She watched him crank the handle that opened a valve over the tub. Water flowed from one pipe at the top. “Aren’t the other pipes working?”

  “Those are for air.” He took her to the opposite side of the tub. “Once you’re in, pull this brass handle back. It will release the air. You push the handle to stop it. All right?”

  She nodded, not understanding why she needed to know anything other than how to shut off the water.

  The captain left her alone in the cabin. While the idea of intimacy with him appealed to her more with each passing minute, she didn’t want him walking in on her bathing. At least she didn’t think she did. Some of her mother’s sense of decency lived on in her. While not always a good thing, it was still a comfort.

  She removed her boots and unfastened the brass corset. Careful not to drop it, she laid it on top of a crate. She checked the door for a lock and found none. “Of course, he’d have no use to barricade himself in a cabin on his own ship,” she grumbled, and then her belly did as well.

  When the tub had filled three-quarters of the way, she turned off the spigots and went to fetch her plate with the bread. She stepped into the passageway and stopped when she heard a distinctive grunt from a cabin to her left. She crept up on the unlatched door and peered through the gap.

  The captain stood in the corner with his shirt off and his back to her. In each hand, raised higher than his shoulders, he held fat wooden dowels tied to the ends of ropes. He pulled them down, held them steady for a second and then raised his arms. She watched the ropes glide over pulleys fastened to the ceiling. Heavy bell-shaped steel blocks were attached to the other end of each line.

  She listened to him grunt as he tugged down on the ropes again. Every muscle in his back bulged and tensed as he lifted the weights. A fine layer of perspiration emerged on his shoulders. She imagined running her tongue along the contours, learning the texture, tasting the flavor. After a dozen repetitions, he let go of the handles and the weights banged hard on the floor.

  Then the captain stretched out one arm and rubbed his shoulder. He twisted and did the same limbering move with his other arm. She wet her lips and remembered the delicious sight of him entirely naked. He had stunned her then with his casualness. Now she wished she had taken the opportunity to do more than stare.

  “This is my chance,” she murmured under her breath.

  Then the door creaked open. Instead of barging in, Abigail stepped back out of the way so as not to be caught spying. She yanked her skirt up and glanced down at the tickle of softness brushing her ankle. Merlin. With her forwardness to approach the captain squelched by the surprise of the cat, she hurried back to the storage room and gently closed the door.

  “Oh, my bread,” she groaned as her belly made another annoying gurgle.

  As much as she wanted to get the food, she didn’t want the captain to see her. He had to have heard the door and she didn’t want him knowing she had watched him. If he said anything later, she’d remind him he did have a cat that wandered freely.

  Abigail finished undressing and then climbed over the side of the tub, postponing her meal of stale bread. She slinked down into the water and tipped her head back to enjoy the liquid warmth. A wire rack she hadn’t noticed before hung on the back of the tub. In it were soaps, sponges and rags. She chose the sponge and lathered it with soap, and then she rubbed at the black smudges on her arms. Without a mirror, she scrubbed her face extra hard and twice as long as usual, hoping not to miss any spots. She wiped tenderly over the red welt on her stomach where the bullet had struck her brass corset. Once she felt every part of her was clean, she sat back to enjoy the soak until the water cooled.

  A sudden movement sat her up straight.

  “Oh, it’s just you,” she said, seeing the cat. “You almost got me caught. What would he have thought of me then, peering through the crack in the door? He infuriates me, yet I can’t help feeling so drawn to him.”

  The cat sat on a chair and began licking his sleek white coat.

  “So, you’ve come to bathe too? Would you like to get in here with me?”

  The cat stared at her for a second and then resumed cleaning himself.

  “All right, I get it. You already know how to clean yourself. You really don’t know what you’re missing, though.” She glanced at the handle the captain had told her to pull. She reached over and grabbed it.

  “Oh my!” she gasped.

  Water jettisoned around the tub, whirling fast, vibrating against her belly and legs. With the initial surprise over, she settled back again and soaked up the glorious sensations from the contraption. She played with moving her limbs around, letting the water pulsate in different areas. It was wonderful to have the water massaging some of her aching muscles. She hadn’t experienced a day as strenuous in all her life.

  As she repositioned, the pounding water hit between her legs. She sucked in a deep breath and lifted her limbs higher, propping her feet on the rim of the tub. It took precision to align the crux of her body with one shooting stream of water. When it hit dead center of her fanned legs, she froze.

  “Oh God,” she moaned, feeling the torrent flutter into her.

  Ever since her breakup with Randolph, she had relied on masturbation, both with her fingers and with inanimate objects. Her favorite was the smooth handle of her hairbrush. Nothing compared to this shooting water in the captain’s tub.

  The warm water reached deeper. She imagined the captain on her and tried thrusting, but each shift of her bottom moved her out of the direct stream. Her breath came heavier and her shudders quicker as she visualized his smooth, tanned back tensing as he made his moves. Not wanting to lose the momentum, she slid closer to one outlet. The pressure intensified, as did the imaginary moans of the captain as she let her mind recreate them from memory. Her uncontrollable, strident whimpers faintly began worrying her. What if the captain came to investigate? How embarrassing that would be. She focused on the cat, but Merlin made her uneasy as he stood and stared. To dull her grunts echoing around the cabin, she grabbed the sponge and stuffed it in her mouth, working with some effi
ciency at muffling her stuttering shrill cry.

  Her climax peaked and her vagina twitched violently. She grabbed the sponge and pressed it tighter to her teeth. In frustration, she ripped it away. A piece tore off and she spit it to the floor.

  “Oh-my-Lord.” She huffed and puffed, dragging her bottom back, relieving her quivering insides of any more of the glorious torture.

  While her body struggled to overcome the shuddering effects of her orgasm, she took slow, soothingly deep breaths. She leaned back and dropped the rest of the sponge. The experience was gratifying and yet, disappointing. If she had taken her time, she might have built up a whole fantasy involving the captain. As it was, the stimulation had brought her quickly to the acute conclusion that she wanted sex with the man.

  It took a while for Abigail to recover from her bath. She vowed to make it a point to use the tub at least once more before they reached their destination. After drying, she dressed in a new outfit, less daring but more ostentatious. Fitting in with the captain’s surroundings might relax him enough to give her just what she sought in the way of physical pleasure.

  “Try to ignore the chemistry between us now, Captain Blackthorn,” she said to herself and twirled around in front of the mirror, inspecting how shapely the brass corset made her look. She glanced down at the cat brushing back and forth against her legs.

  Satisfied that she’d have the captain’s complete attention, she picked up the cat. She made her way down to the captain’s cabin. He stood in front of one of the windows watching a large, very dangerous-looking fish.

  “That’s a shark, isn’t it?” She readjusted her hold on the cat as he licked her jaw and then her chest.

  The Captain turned toward her. His charming smile with the boyish overtones attracted her.

  “Merlin!” His angry tone followed the banished grin. He marched forward and pulled the cat from her arms. “This naughty cat has no manners.”

  The captain’s apparent embarrassment surprised her.

  “He was just being a cat,” she said.

  “A cad is more like it.” He tossed the animal to the floor.

  Merlin trotted off behind the desk.

  “From the glow on your face, I’d say you enjoyed the tub.” The captain moved to his writing table where he had set her plate with the bread and pulled out the chair.

  “I did.” She walked over.

  His hands on her shoulders stopped her from sitting. She tipped her head to the side to allow the brush of his fingers against the pulse in her neck. His strokes crossed her shoulder, easing her sleeve aside.

  Still tingling from the excitement she experienced in the bath, she remained patient.

  “I want to take this off you.” He traced the top edge of the brass, tickling her back.

  She dared not believe he wanted to seduce her. “I told you I’m not hurt. Not seriously.”

  He touched the corset, his caress gliding across the dent. She imagined the feel of his fingers sliding over her without the hindrance of clothing. His gentleness, unrushed and explorative, had the potential to fill a void in her life. She glanced at the bed and thought of them together on the mattress, intimately embraced, making love.

  “I want to touch you as you’ve never had a man touch you before,” he said, answering her silent desires.

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Captain Blackthorn, but I’m not a virgin.” She turned around and faced him, hoping her frankness wasn’t off-putting.

  “I know.” He circled her, brushing her hair over the front of her shoulder, his fingers skipping up and down her neck.

  “How? Have I been too forward?” Her confidence wavered.

  “Never mind about that.” He unfastened the first buckle holding the brass corset together.

  Excitement ran through her veins as the stiff form loosened. She put her hand against the bodice to hold the brass in place. He finished unbuckling it and moved around in front of her to take the corset away. The cool air stirred over her heated body, and her nipples hardened.

  Jasper set the shaped metal aside and came back to her. He fingered open the buttons on her blouse. The fabric was damp, as she hadn’t dried completely before getting dressed. The cotton peeled from her skin. Slowly he exposed her to his gaze. The garment dropped down her arms but hung there, suspended by his grip.

  Then, as if he thought she’d move away, he jerked her forward. His mouth hit hers. Her bosom pressed to his solid torso, and the ruffles of his shirt enveloped her sensitive breasts. The fierce energy in his kiss coiled through her. She tried gasping for a breath. Only Jasper’s dominating hold prevented her from moving, and his determined grasp was firm as if he aimed to possess her.

  “I’m going to make love to you, me beauty.” He spoke each word between pecks to her lips. “I’ll ravish you with tenderness until you are begging me to stop.”

  “Why would I want you to stop?” She hummed, enthralled by his lustful claim.

  “Because you’ll be too exhausted to endure more.”

  She liked the sound of that. Too tired from sex had all the right reasons for her to throw herself into the pleasures he promised.

  He let go of her arms and cupped her face in his palms. With her blouse no longer hindered by his grip, it fell to the floor. She folded her arms up, embracing him, drawing her whole body tighter to his.

  “I’m anxious for you to do all you claim.” She clutched at his back, balling up his shirt in her fingers, eager to feel the muscles she had watched when he’d lifted weights.

  “Let me take this off.” He grabbed his shirt by the collar and drew it over his head.

  Two days ago if someone had told her she’d be on the adventure of a lifetime with a handsome man, she would have scorned the assertion. She had thought Randolph had soured her toward wanting anyone the way she wanted Jasper.

  Still embracing him, she let her fingers rest against his smooth skin right at the waistband of his breeches. She kissed the center of his chest, sweeping her lips from side to side against the soft, short hairs. The rapid beat of his heart aroused her to linger, to lick a circle around his nipple. His low moan encouraged her to nibble the taut bud with her lips and then her teeth. When she tipped her head back to look up at him, he caught her jaw. He held her face and his mouth covered hers, claiming her breath with a deep kiss.

  Their remaining clothes fell away by the command of their hands on each other. They moved toward the bed but stopped twice in the short distance, groping and kissing, immersed in the heat of their passion. Finally, Jasper backed her to the bunk, lowered her down and joined her. His fingertips swirled over her cool skin. He warmed her belly and then her breasts. Her nipples softened until he swished his thumb over one and made it stiff again. He pinched and plucked at the knotted flesh with impatience. Blood rushed to the area, and a tingling heat zipped through to her belly.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said, restless from the stimulation.

  “Nor I.” He kissed under her chin and along her neck, exploring the curves with the gentle touch of his lips and tongue.

  She rocked her hips against him to gain attention to a needier area. He kissed downward to her breast, circled, spiraled inward and then engulfed her nipple. She shuddered and arched, thrusting her chest up to the delightful sensations whooshing through her body and making her core clench.

  When his kisses moved between her breasts, the coarse stubble along his jaw brushed roughly against her smooth flesh. She moaned softly, invigorated by the clash of textures. His thorough attention to her needs kept her writhing in anticipation of the ultimate thrill.

  “Soft and succulent,” he murmured, traveling to her belly.

  He moved a hand along the inside of her leg, up her thigh and nestled it into place over her sex. Slowly he parted her nether lips and stroked a finger up through the wet folds. He flicked the sensitive button of flesh, and she jerked at the sudden zing of threaded heat. Involuntarily her legs squeezed shut on his hand. The
n she relaxed and felt his finger, maybe two, enter her.

  His suckling kisses continued, caressing her belly, her pelvis and her thighs. He withdrew his fingers from her twitching vagina and she was surprised by the feel of his moist lips on her most intimate region.

  She inhaled sharply, and then exhaled in stuttering puffs. He whipped his tongue inside and swirled deep. The flicker of his licks moved in and out, driving her wild, making her crazy. She rolled her hands over his shoulders and held on. Relentless, he persisted in torturing the hard bud harboring a million nerves. He thrummed the nub of flesh until she couldn’t stop thrashing her head from side to side. Her legs tensed, clamping together, forcing him to pry them open to get closer. He must have thought she fought his actions instead of the sensations, because he suddenly lifted and stared up at her.

  “Don’t stop,” she groaned, grasping his head and guiding him back between her legs.

  His velvety smooth laugh funneled deep into her, shocking her aroused interior. Everything neared the intensity she had experienced in the tub. Her thighs trembled violently. With the comforting care of a man aware of everything she felt, Jasper’s hand raked back and forth along her hip and side.

  Then her orgasm crested. She thought of nothing else than the extreme pleasure she felt while hardly being able to catch her breath. Letting go of him, she reached out and searched for support. Instead of a firm structure, she gripped the soft fluff of bedding and twisted it in her fists.

  “Oh Lord,” she gasped, tilting back her head and arching off the mattress. There was nothing to hide the sounds of her ecstasy. Nor did she want to muffle her whimpering cries.

  Then it was over.

  He rose up over her and stared into her eyes.

  Take me, she silently begged.

  He moved between her spread legs and lowered, granting her wish. The heat of his body blanketed her. The tip of his erection pressed against her opening. He pushed slightly, carefully, and waited for the fleshy folds of her sex to yield. He flexed his hips and his downward plunge filled her. The deep penetration of his thick cock made her stiffen. Sadness gripped her. She wasn’t a virgin, but she felt the similar pressure and discomfort, and wished it was her first time. She felt a few tears break free of her eyelids, only to disappear under the humming caress of Jasper’s lips. The tenderness helped erase her regrets.