The Pirate Masters

by Madison Layle

  Where’d they come from? Stupid question.

  And then one man cocked his pistol, the mechanism making a soft, now all-too-familiar snick. Two guns were aimed at them.

  She didn’t dare move, though her urge to flee was astronomical. Her heart leaped into her throat, lodged there, a scream impossible. Her body trembled.

  Yep, stupid question. Who the fuck cared where they’d come from. All that mattered was they were here, and she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  Or was she?

  Was this part of The Pleasure Club’s plan? Her mind failed her as thoughts scattered…swirled. She couldn’t recall on her list of fantasies any scenario that included being on the wrong end of pistols. She was pretty sure she’d leaned more toward the mundane dangers of secret liaisons, maybe a bit of kink, or a little historical fancy of the swashbuckling variety, but armed men in masks?

  “Nice touch with the lighting, by the way,” the more vocal of the two gunmen continued. “But the music could be a little more…raunchy, don’t you think?” The man eased over to the stereo and flipped it off. The immediate silence was deafening. “Come on, James. Don’t stop on our account.” The gunman’s gaze raked over her, and her reaction-one of forbidden interest-unnerved her.

  James eased her behind him, a gallant gesture she appreciated but didn’t believe effective. For him to take a bullet instead of her wouldn’t leave her with any brighter future. Worse, most likely.

  With the exception of the bandanas covering their heads, the armed pair was dressed in black like some kind of military commando unit on a covert mission. Both men were tall and muscular, one more so than the other, yet physically they fit the look she would’ve expected for soldiers of fortune or mercenaries. She didn’t doubt for a second they were strong enough to take her and James down even without the firepower.

  Her gaze collided with the big fellow in the burgundy bandana. His deep green eyes stared back at her, and she trembled. She’d been primed with arousal, which now conflicted with a strong dose of adrenaline.

  She should be terrified. They had guns for goodness sake! But that look was…something. It had an odd, unfathomable effect on her psyche.

  The man’s lips twitched into a slight smile, which vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. She blinked and wondered whether she’d seen it or if her mind had played a trick on her.

  Regardless, she looked away first, her gaze down, her confusion high.

  “Afraid you can’t get it up?” the big man challenged.

  “Enough! What do you want?” her protector asked with impressive bravado, for an unarmed man.

  “Eventually,” the leaner one in the navy bandana began, “we’ll take that shiny ruby off your hand, any jewels the lady has on her, and the contents of your safe. But for starters-”

  “Impossible,” James interrupted, making Dana wince. “I don’t have a safe. I don’t know who you think you are-”

  “We’re pirates.” The gunman in the burgundy bandana raised his pistol a fraction higher to make his point. “You know, the kind with big guns and no remorse. Now, don’t be stupid. You do exactly as we say, and no one will get hurt.”

  Pirates?

  She had written about an interest in a pirate fantasy, but she’d been thinking of Johnny Depp at the time. Swords and curses and buried treasure. Sandy beaches and rum…not guns.

  Her tummy flipped in excited turmoil over whether the events before her were real or a fantasy turned reality. She had her safe word. Mayday. But if this was the ultimate role-playing adventure, she didn’t want to spoil it.

  And if it were real, hollering mayday wouldn’t do a damn bit of good.

  Dana watched the two gunmen closely. Mr. Deep Voice held his firearm steady, the barrel aimed dead-center of James’ chest. The weapon looked very natural, too natural, in the stranger’s hand.

  “Right,” the other one was saying, his gun also raised and aimed their way. “And if you behave, you might enjoy this.”

  Enjoy being robbed?

  Her eyes widened when the speaker looked at her and smiled. The man’s blue-eyed gaze slid down her body. She lost all ability to breathe. She clutched at James’ shirt as backup support for her suddenly unsteady legs.

  “Look,” James said, reaching for his back pocket. “You can take the money in my wallet and my ring. Just don’t hurt anyone.”

  “Save your negotiations,” Mr. Navy Bandana said. “We’ll get to the business of your money and jewels later…including the safe, so don’t play us for fools by denying its existence. We know everything there is to know about you, James. First, like my friend said earlier, you should never disappoint a lady by keeping her waiting.”

  “I’m not going to fuck my secretary while you two perverts-”

  “Be careful, James,” the man with the deep voice warned in a deadly serious tone.

  “James?” Dana took his hand.

  He turned his head to look at her over his shoulder.

  “Please,” she whispered, “don’t make them angry.” She was ninety percent sure that this was part of her fantasy, since James had stayed within his role as her employer, but that ten percent of uncertainty was enough for her to side with caution.

  The chance of real danger also added a unique thrill she hadn’t expected. She didn’t know whether to consider herself crazy or what, but logical or not, the two bad boys in black turned her on.

  One of the gunmen chuckled, although she didn’t look away from James to see who it was.

  Mr. Navy Bandana said, “Listen to her, James. You can’t win if you fight. You won’t like what happens if you piss us off, but if you play nice, you’ll make her happy.”

  “And save her life,” the other one added, his deeper voice and the words he spoke making her shudder.

  James pulled Dana into an embrace. “I’m so sorry.”

  She looked up into his eyes and tried for a smile. “It’s okay.”

  “Undress her.” Dana closed her eyes at the sound of that deep bass. “Slowly.”

  “You son of a bitch,” James hissed under his breath, but the gunmen had moved close enough to hear.

  The one in the navy bandana poked James in the back. “Don’t be a hypocrite, lover boy. You want to see her body as much as we do. Now, do as you’re told.”

  Dana clutched James’ shirt, staring up into his angry eyes. If this wasn’t real, the man was a damn fine actor. “It’s okay,” she murmured again, and this time she realized she meant it. The guns, the other men, the orders to comply-they all combined to remove all responsibility from her for what was about to happen. She felt strangely liberated. It was almost cathartic. And the idea of being caught in flagrante delicto, watched, and made to perform was both unnerving and titillating at the same time.

  James’ gaze softened to something tender and passionate.

  He cupped her face with one hand, his thumb caressing away the quiver of her bottom lip. He bent down and gave her a chaste kiss. Then the soft purr of her zipper sounded as James slid the tab down her back.

  Her pulse began to race.

  “Slowly,” Mr. Deep Voice repeated.

  Dana held her breath as James slipped his thumbs under the spaghetti straps of her gown and tugged them off her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so the instant the material dropped away, cool air beaded her nipples. Her fingers ached from their death grip on James’ shirt, which was now hopelessly wrinkled.

  James touched her wrists, saying, “Let go, my dear,” and she realized she’d not only closed her eyes again, but that her dress hung from her elbows while she clung to him.

  Blinking up at him, she forced her fingers to open, letting go and dropping her arms. The dress fell to the floor, a puddle of silky satin around her feet.

  James settled his hands on her hips where the final lacy scrap of material remained to keep her modesty intact.

  Before he could remove her panties, though, she focused on the buttons of his shirt. She was d
etermined not to be the only one sans clothes. One by one she undid them and then tugged the tails from his slacks. James had a nice body, soft skin over hard muscle-a fine line of hair teased her gaze, leading from his navel down to disappear beneath his pants. Fascinated, distracted for the moment, she reached out to trace the trail with a fingertip and heard him hiss.

  His shirt joined her dress on the floor. She reached for his pants, but then heard the door to their room shut and the lock engage. It was enough to make her look around to find the gunmen. They were on the move, circling around for a better view, one to either side.

  She and James stood close together at the foot of his bed.

  As the gunmen took up positions behind her on either side of that bed, she lost sight of them and returned her gaze to James who, she discovered, was staring down at her. Mixed emotions of concern and desire were evident in his hazel eyes.

  She rose up on tiptoe and initiated a kiss that he quickly deepened into something much more hot and urgent.

  It was almost enough to make her forget about the armed voyeurs in the room, until that deep bass voice returned.

  “Stop stalling, James. I said undress her. That means everything.”

  Her breath hitched when the kiss stopped and James obeyed the command by slowly easing her panties down her thighs.

  The one in the navy bandana seemed content to watch while the other gunmen continued to give the orders. “Nice ass. Go ahead and touch her. Pull her against your body.”

  James did as he was told. His palms cradled her butt, held her close enough that she had no doubt about his arousal. Despite their lack of solitude, or maybe because of it, James was as turned on as she was.

  “Bet that sexy body of hers feels good enough to make a man hard as granite, huh?”

  James hugged her tighter and didn’t answer. The other gunman snickered though.

  Mr. Deep Voice continued to give commands, his tone quiet, almost sultry. “Turn her around for us, James. Very good. Now, gently knead those breasts.”

  When James’ hands closed around her breasts, she leaned back against him and closed her eyes, unable to look at the two men watching him fondle her. But doing so did not prevent the effects their presence had on her body. Her nipples tightened. Her pussy creamed, and she began to pant softly with unrequited need.

  Without prompting, James pressed soft kisses along her shoulder and neck, brushed her hair out of his way, and caught her earlobe between his teeth.

  She gave him a soft sigh of approval and tilted her head while he suckled it. When had her ears become such an erogenous zone?

  “Spread her legs.” The gunman’s voice now was almost a whisper-the sexiest fucking murmur she’d ever heard.

  She didn’t wait for James to force her legs apart. She spread her stance willingly and kept her eyes closed, reveling in the sensations of James’ touch and the others’ gazes.

  “Touch her. Tell us how wet she is.”

  James slid one hand from her breasts, down across her nervous tummy, and gently through the trimmed curls of her pubic hair. When he ran a fingertip across her clit and between her labia, she moaned and tilted her hips toward his touch.

  “Tell us…”

  “She’s very moist,” James answered. “Hot and wet.”

  “Go ahead. Dip a finger or two inside that pussy. I know you want to tell us if she’s tight.”

  James pinched her nipple with one hand while he obeyed the pirate’s command with his other. Two fingers entered her, and her breath hissed through gritted teeth.

  “Mmm, I think she likes that.” The remark came from Mr. Navy Bandana, although Dana didn’t open her eyes to look at him.

  “Yes,” James said, plumbing her depths at a steady pace. For a second, she thought he’d answered for her. It was true; she did like the feel of his fingers pushing inside to stretch and rub her inner walls. But then he continued. “She’s very tight.”

  The deeper bass returned. “You want to fuck her, don’t you, James?”

  “Yes.”

  “She wants you to, as well.”

  At that, Dana’s eyes shot open, and she stared at the pirate in the burgundy bandana.

  Brazenly holding her gaze, he commanded, “Finger-fuck her harder, James. Rub that clit.”

  James immediately complied, and Dana gasped, reaching behind her to claw at James for support.

  He bent his head to kiss and suck hard on her neck, while his fingers pumped rapidly into her body, his thumb nudging and flicking her clit. She whimpered from the increased assault on her senses, never once looking away from the man who controlled their every move.

  Something deep inside her recognized the stranger’s dominant nature, was attracted to it.

  James worked her up until an orgasm was all but inevitable. Just before it happened, just before she could tumble over that invisible cliff, the pirate said, “Stop.”

  James not only ceased, he pulled out of her, and stood behind her panting from his own aroused desire. She frowned, irked by her thwarted climax.

  “Bend over,” came the next command, this one clearly aimed at her. She obeyed, but did so with slow challenge, her pique not yet appeased. The pirate’s only reaction was a mild tilt of his head and slight curve of his lips.

  As she dipped forward, she watched both pirates sit on the bed, their backs against the headboard, one leg from each left bent over opposite edges of the mattress. Their guns lay on their thighs, still in hand, still aimed in their general direction.

  “Stretch your arms out over your head,” said the one who’d taken charge.

  When she complied, the man in the navy bandana set his gun down within his easy reach, pulled out a nylon cord from a pouch on his cargo pants, and bound her wrists together. The other pirate kept his gun temporarily raised toward James who didn’t move from his position behind her.

  “Why are you doing this?” James asked.

  “Because we can,” came the mild reply. “Besides, I’m in the mood for some sexy entertainment.”

  “Me, too,” the other added with a harder tug on the cord’s ends.

  When the one finished tying her up, the other said, “Drop your pants, James.”

  James didn’t speak again, which was probably for the best. What could he say? You’ll never get away with this might work on the big screen, but in reality it was a stupid statement to make when looking down the barrel of a gun.

  The rasp of his zipper was like nails scraped effectively down her spine. Her breathing became unsteady. Adrenaline left her shaky with a heady mixture of anticipation and angst.

  “Do you have a condom, James? Or do you use them with…your secretary?”

  “I have a couple in my wallet.”

  She heard slight shuffling, a soft thud on the bed as he dropped his wallet beside her, and the rip of paper when he opened the packet.

  Seconds later, James didn’t wait to be told to enter her. He did that almost immediately after his pants fell, and in doing so lifted her feet clean off the floor. She bent her legs and found support with her knees on the mattress.

  She sighed, her face buried in the bed linens, as his hard cock eased into her body. James’ grip tightened on her hips, and she heard him make a soft sound of part-relief, part pleasure.

  “Does she feel good?” the more vocal of the pirates asked.

  “Yes,” James admitted breathlessly. He pulled her closer and nudged his cock a fraction deeper.

  “And how does he feel, Miss Secretary?” Amusement tinged that question.

  She grumbled into the bedding.

  “I asked a question.” The pirate’s voice was pure authority. “Swat her ass, James.”

  “I will not!”

  “Do it or…”

  She lifted her head to see the man’s gun rise.

  “Now.”

  Smack!

  She winced and glared at the pirate who looked her in the eye. “I’m waiting, Miss Secretary. Or shall we continue with
corporal punishment?”

  She stared at him in stubborn challenge.

  He gave her a small smirk, glanced at James and nodded once.

  James swatted her again, the pop light, harmless.

  The pirate frowned. “Harder, unless you want me to do it for you.”

  James spanked her again, hard enough to make her flinch.

  Again the pirate met her hard gaze. Through gritted teeth, she replied, “He feels…big.”

  “Ah, what every man wants to hear,” the pirate quipped, and both gunmen chuckled. “I envy you, James, having such a luscious creature at your beck and call. How do you get any work done?”

  The bed jostled when the man in the navy bandana-the one to her left-suddenly got to his feet. Dana tossed her hair as she tried to follow his progress toward the foot of the bed.

  “Don’t move,” he said.

  “What-? No,” James said with clear agitation in his tone. “Goddammit! Don’t do this.”

  James’ grip on her hips vanished, but his cock remained buried inside her and hard as ever.

  Dana struggled to see what was happening, but the other pirate who still sat on the bed leaned forward and pressed her bound wrists into the mattress. When she turned to look at him once more, she found him staring back at her, his gaze not unkind.

  “It wouldn’t be fair to bind you and not him, now would it?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer.

  “Take these fucking things off!” James shouted.

  “Do you want to fuck her or would you rather cry mayday?” challenged the one tying James up. “I’m sure we could fuck her for you instead if you aren’t willing.”

  James ignored the question and the threat and asked one of his own. “How am I supposed to do anything with my hands tied behind my back?”

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” the pirate replied with obvious cockiness. “After all, big boss man, your ‘big’ dick is right where you want it to be. Now, shut up…” The sound of muffled grunts told Dana that he’d gagged James somehow. “…and have some fun with your little secretary while you still can. Time’s a-wasting, and we have your safe to plunder, high seas to pillage, treasure to bury…”