The Pirate Masters
Madison Layle
Masters Jared and Lance are experienced Doms and regularly join forces via The Pleasure Club to fulfill women’s dreams and have fun in the process. From sex dungeons to gothic castles, they’ve been there and done it all. But tonight, they’re armed and ready for a high seas adventure with a more dangerous twist.
Dana Hawthorne thinks the Pleasure Guardians set up a sweet-n-sexy tryst with a "wealthy boss man" for her first fantasy night. But it’s not until a pair of bad-boy pirates storm the yacht and take command that the real fantasy…and the erotic pleasure…really begin.
Madison Layle
The Pirate Masters
Welcome to the Pleasure Club
Dear Ms. Hawthorne,
We’re pleased to welcome you to The Pleasure Club.
As you have already signed and returned the contract and filled out all the necessary forms to ensure you receive your every wish, we will be in touch with you shortly with the details of your first Pleasure Night. Your Wish List and Pleasure Forms have been turned over to our staff of highly trained Pleasure Guardians, and they are hard at work finding your perfect match.
We will endeavor to meet your personal fantasy.
When you are contacted again, you will be given a location where your Pleasure Night will begin, and you will also be given a safe word to use should you at any time become uncomfortable. There is no shame in changing your mind. We’re here for your pleasure, and should your safe word be used, your match for the evening will cease all activity, and the game will be put on hold until a mutual agreement between you and your Pleasure Master can be reached.
Once again, welcome to The Pleasure Club.
Please feel free to contact the office at any time should you have any questions.
Yours truly,
The Pleasure Club Management
***
Ms. Hawthorne,
Your Pleasure Night will begin Friday the 2nd, 6:00 PM on pier 21 located at 11 Harbor Ridge Drive.
Your safe word is Mayday.
Sincerely,
The Pleasure Guardians
***
Jared tied the dark burgundy silk bandana around his head in a tight knot, tucking in the back corners so it covered most of his short, military-style hair.
The sound of footsteps behind him had him turning around to see Lance enter the main cabin of the vessel Jared called home. Lance was a land-lover, but Jared adored the ocean-polar opposites who had somehow discovered a few common interests that bound them together in friendship.
They’d met at the gym where Lance was a fitness instructor and Jared went regularly to lift weights. Their friendship expanded when they learned they shared a similar fondness for certain sexual fetishes. They both loved to share and dominate women, and they were damn good at it.
Best of all, he’d discovered The Pleasure Club, which helped him explore his own desires while fulfilling others’ sexual fantasies, too. It beat trolling the nightclubs for potential dates who might or might not be into kinky foreplay. And many fetish clubs were too sleazy for his tastes.
He didn’t work for TPC; it didn’t work that way. He enjoyed sex, but a gigolo, he wasn’t. As a club member, he’d paid his dues and reaped the benefits like Lance and all of the others.
Role playing was what thrilled him-becoming the kind of person another needed to find that heightened release, that touch of nirvana. He smiled. Yeah, he enjoyed every minute of his membership and looked forward to the weekends whenever he had a fantasy to fulfill, especially one like tonight, one that could involve the sea.
Because they’d signed up together and indicated an interest in shared experiences, he often joined with Lance to enact ménage a trois fantasies whenever TPC called on them to do so. One of his favorites so far was a sweet little sub they’d disciplined, tested, and thoroughly fucked in the dungeon of the castle-like mansion over on Mangrove Lane. He’d had a few other Pleasure Nights take place there, so he suspected someone high up in the club owned the place.
Tonight was different, though, and that difference excited him. After one final glance, he pocketed the instructions TPC had sent him. Tonight just might best all of his other fantasies combined.
Lance was dressed in attire similar to his own-black cargo pants, a sleeveless black muscle shirt, and dark combat boots. His smile had one of Jared’s eyebrows rising.
“What?”
Lance crossed his arms. “Add a little eye liner and a gold tooth or two, and you could go as Captain Jack Sparrow.”
Jared rolled his eyes. “Real funny, but I don’t do beaded braids.”
Lance shrugged. “Suit yourself. You gonna wear an eye patch?”
He shook his head. “I think we can dispense with the clichés.”
“Damn. I was hoping for at least a parrot. Think of all the naughty-ass words we could teach it tonight.”
Jared laughed. “That would be funny,” he admitted while checking his pistol one last time before putting it away in its holster. “You armed and ready?”
“Yep, but we’re not going to take them here, are we?”
He glanced at his watch. “No, we still have plenty of time. The other boat’s already in place?”
“Yeah. One pier over. I saw it dock just before I came down.”
“Okay.” Their target for the evening should arrive within the hour. “I want to be topside to watch them cast off.”
***
“Special night, huh?” the cab driver asked as he looked at her in the rearview mirror, his dark chocolate eyes friendly and curious.
Would tonight be special? She hoped so. She just wished she knew which fantasy her Pleasure Masters had chosen to fulfill! She fidgeted with the wrist strap of her silk clutch handbag in which she’d put her latest correspondence from The Pleasure Club.
She gave the driver a nod but couldn’t drum up enough creativity to make up an explanation he’d believe. She couldn’t tell him she was going to meet a total stranger for a night of fulfilled fantasies and sexual pleasure. He might want to tag along.
A nervous giggle escaped, so she bit her lip to settle her jitters. Maybe she shouldn’t have listed so many options when she filled out the club’s paperwork. She glanced down and busied herself by straightening the skirt of her short evening dress. Her clutch with cell phone, money, and lipstick, lay next to her on the seat.
Had she chosen wrong? Was she overdressed? Maybe I should’ve worn something casual. A bikini and wrap… The ideas darted through her mind until they arrived at the address she’d given.
The cab pulled to a stop, and the driver twisted to look at her. “Here we are. That’ll be twenty-seven dollars.”
After paying the cabbie, she got out, giving him a wave when he wished her well and drove away.
“All dressed up and nowhere to go,” she muttered, looking around at all of the boats docked at the pier. Pulling out her letter from TPC, she reread the address. It didn’t give the name of a boat or pier number.
Now what do I do?
“You’re as gorgeous as ever, Dana.”
She looked up to see a total stranger approach with a welcoming smile on his face. Her real name was Diana Hawthorne, but she’d given TPC instructions to use Dana for all liaisons-a childhood nickname she’d set aside for the formalities of big business and the corporate ladder.
The man was attractive and well dressed in pristine white slacks and short-sleeved shirt, the top two buttons left undone. Laceless deck shoes covered his bare feet, and a gold ring with a blood-red ruby sparkled on his right ring finger. Clean-shaven, he sported a thick head of dark hair with enough length to lend a rakish quality and a hint of salt at the temples to give him a disti
nguished appearance.
She returned his smile, quickly stowed her TPC instructions back into her clutch, and clasped his offered hands.
He flashed a dentist’s dream of a grin, and she couldn’t help but be impressed. The man was very handsome in a charming way. The only problem was she had no idea what name to call him. She decided to play along. “And you’re as complimentary as always, sir.”
He paused, chuckled, and pulled her into a warm embrace. “Now, Dana, I thought I told you to call me James.” He gave her a quick kiss and held her hand as he guided her down the pier.
“Yes, sir…James,” she said with amusement, not quite matching his longer-limbed stride.
With a sideways glance, he added, “And I was merely speaking the truth.” He pulled her to a stop at the bottom of a gangplank to a small but impressive yacht. His hands cupped her upper arms, slid down in a slow caress that caused her flesh to tingle, her pulse to quicken. “You are gorgeous.”
For a brief moment, he seemed to break from their roles, his expression serious, his words solemn.
She held his hazel-eyed gaze and replied, “Thank you.”
He blinked, and the spell was broken.
“Uh, I was afraid I might’ve overdressed for the occasion,” she admitted nervously when he surprised her by dropping to one knee.
“Not at all,” came his gallant response. His grin was pure devil, though, as he looked up at her and reached out to stroke her calf, the back of one knee, a little thigh at the edge of her hemline. “Although, as much as I love seeing you in high heels, the decks are teak, so…” He slipped off the stiletto on her left foot first and then the other. When he rose to his feet once more, he’d gained an additional three-inch advantage over her five-foot-four-inch frame.
Her shoes dangling from one hand, he curled a finger under her chin and dipped his head down to press another chaste kiss on her lips, which erased the pout that had started to form. He took her by the hand and escorted her onto the yacht.
“Now, I want you to promise me something.”
“Promise?”
“Although you’ve only been with my firm a few weeks, and you’ve become a true asset around the office, we are not at work. I’m not your boss tonight. You aren’t my employee. Understood?”
With relief, she nodded, at last recognizing the fantasy her Pleasure Masters must’ve chosen to fulfill. Meeting on the pier was a creative detour from her more mundane idea of an office affair, but she liked the spontaneity. And she had mentioned other fantasies with an ocean or beach setting, so it would’ve been an easy assumption to include a little of that in this night’s entertainments.
“Excellent. Now let me show you around.” He guided her onto the yacht and gave her a tour. Below deck, there was a dual-purpose kitchen and living area with a built-in, state-of-the-art entertainment system, a spacious master suite with small bathroom, and even a second sleeping area behind a curtain in the bow of the vessel. Above deck were the controls and several padded seats and benches, perfect for parties or lounging in the sunshine.
“You have a beautiful yacht.” It wasn’t the largest in the marina, not even close, but it was quite impressive nonetheless with its polished-to-a-shine hardwood trimmings and luxurious decor.
“Benefits of a successful business and years of hard work, my dear.”
He handed her a flute of champagne as she took a seat on one of the padded benches and laid her clutch aside. He retrieved a picnic basket from below and, to her surprise, revealed a delicious gourmet meal. She reveled in the unique mix of wealthy prestige and casual informality as they shared a very pleasant dinner of lobster tails, steamed vegetables, and a strawberry cheesecake that could make any woman orgasm.
As the meal progressed, James became adorably playful. Dipping his fingertip into the sweet strawberry sauce, he raised it to her lips.
“Mmm,” she said on a sigh as she suckled the desert from his finger. “Your chef deserves a raise. I swear this is the best meal I’ve had in ages.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” His bright grin was sincere. “Ready for a little adventure?”
She took a sip of her champagne then nodded with a smile as he refilled her glass and reseated the bottle in a nearby bucket of ice.
“I’ll be right back.” He cleared the dishes with efficient speed and carried away the picnic basket. After a few seconds, she heard him holler to someone on the dock. The lines were released, and he returned to the captain’s chair where he was all business while navigating away from the dock and through the traffic of the harbor.
Dana enjoyed the cool evening breeze that lightly swept through her hair while she watched James steer the yacht out onto the open water. She wondered idly whether that was his real name, not that it mattered. It suited him-simple, yet sophisticated.
He carried himself well, competent but not arrogant. He had a nice, tight ass and hard biceps, and although he was dressed like a powerful executive with enough riches to have a private yacht, he moved with the strength of a blue-collar worker familiar with hard labor. There was no captain other than himself to maneuver the vessel, no staff to cater to his every whim, and yet the visual of his self-sufficiency made her smile.
She almost wished they were not play-acting, that she really was his secretary or assistant or some employee blessed to work with him on a daily basis.
He turned a smile toward her and held out his hand. She kept her glass in one hand and rose to stand beside him. He pulled her into a one-arm embrace, her back to his front, as he continued to steer the yacht farther out to sea.
Glancing back, she could easily make out the city’s skyline along the shore, so they weren’t too far out. Far enough though to leave behind the constant hustle and bustle, the chaotic sounds of city life. Being out on the water enabled her to see for miles, and she noted the other ships of all types-barges to cruise liners, speedboats to sailboats-their numbers fewer than before, and the distance greater so that she could almost envision them being all alone in the world, set adrift on the open ocean.
“Look,” he whispered, the word a soft puff of warm air against her cheek.
She turned in the direction he pointed and saw a spectacular sunset reflected over the watery horizon. Her breath caught.
“Oh, it’s beautiful.”
He kissed her shoulder, the side of her neck, and nipped her earlobe. “Not as beautiful as you.”
She was no fashion model, but it was nice to hear someone, especially a handsome man with warm, strong arms, say so. She did take some pride in her appearance, in staying fit and taking care of herself. Monthly spa trips were her own private pamper sessions she refused to skip. But she was also comfortable sans makeup, in torn T-shirt and paint-stained cutoffs, seated on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn and an old movie on the TV.
This little Pleasure Night, although elegant, was turning out to be milder than her usual fantasies, but she couldn’t say she was disappointed, and she gave James full credit for the contented joy she felt at this moment.
She turned in his arms, rose up on tiptoe to drape her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
A quick nudge of his arm on a control lever and the boat’s engine rumbled to a stop. He tightened his hold on her, pulling her body firmly against his.
The waves were gentle tonight, offering a pleasant rock and roll while they let the kiss linger, evolve into heated passion.
He tasted delicious, his talented tongue a treat to her psyche. She clutched him closer. So caught up in the kiss, she relaxed her grip on the flute, and it crashed to the deck behind him. At the sound, she startled. “Oh, damn. I’m sorry.”
He swept her into his arms. “Careful. You’re barefoot.”
A mild heat stained her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. It just slip-”
He cut her off with another kiss. His tongue delved into her mouth, and she moaned with pleasure, hugging him closer. “Don’t worry about it,” he murmured against her lips before kissing her
again.
Glass crunched beneath his step as he headed for the master suite below deck. Setting her down in a safer area, he cupped her face between his hands and nipped her bottom lip.
Pulling away, he smiled and said, “Give me a sec. Don’t move.”
While she stood still, he crossed the small space. He lowered the lighting of the room to a soft amber glow and then went to a small stereo system in the wall and turned it on. The gentle, sultry melodies of an instrumental love song added a nice accompaniment to the faint splash of waves against the hull outside.
When he returned, he wore a grin. “Now, where were we?”
She grinned up at him, draped her arms around his neck, and pulled him closer. “Right…about…here.”
His lips pressed against hers, his tongue sought entry, and she opened her mouth for his exploration. Slowly, he slid his hands downward, over her shoulders, skimming her arms, encircling her body…
The kiss deepened while he mapped her curves with caresses that left her tingly with longing. She pulled away to regain her breath, and he took full advantage with sprinkled kisses along her jaw line, her neck, at the base where her pulse raged beneath hypersensitive skin.
He reached between them to squeeze and mold, touch and knead her breast, and she moaned softly, encouragingly, as he glided his other palm over her ass.
Snick.
James froze.
Dana was eager for more. She raked her manicured nails gently down his back and up again. “Come on, James. Don’t stop now.” She tried to kiss him again, tugging on his head to lower his mouth toward hers, but he stiffened.
“That’s right, James. Don’t disappoint the lady on our account.”
Dana startled at the deep base sound of another man’s voice. She and James separated, their warm passion doused by cold, hard reality. Whipping her head around to look, she was shocked to discover not one but two masked men blocking the doorway, the only exit from the yacht’s master suite.
The Pirate Masters Page 1
