by Terri Pray
“We're leaving London. There's an Island off the southern coast of France where we will be welcomed, my pet. One where I have been offered the chance to find power, wealth, everything I've ever dreamed of. The trip will give us time to become used to each other, and I'm certain that the trip will also grant us a chance to explore some possibilities together.”
She knew what that meant. She wasn't stupid, he had no desire to learn what she liked, or wanted, quite frankly this was a chance for her to learn exactly what he liked. This wasn't going to be easy. And how could Davien find her if she was taken away from England, or even taken out of London?
An Island off the southern coast of France?
Why would he need to go there?
She had to find a way to break free before she was taken there. Once on this island, whatever it was, she might never be able to escape again. She couldn't face that. Denied, forever, from Davien? She had to hide how she felt, and let him see how frightened she was by this idea, this new journey.
“Thank you for this honor, Master.” She bowed her head softly, her hands still folded in her lap. “To be at your feet on this journey is a great honor indeed.”
“We will leave on the morning tide, which will give me the time to sort a few small details out.” He turned his attention to the window and then looked back at her. “You will soon be where you will spend the rest of your life. You will be at my feet, in my collar, a slave, a slut on Inquisition Island.”
“Yes, Master. I hope I will be able to help you prepare for this journey in some way.” The name ran a jolt of terror through her being. Inquisition Island. She'd never heard of such a place, but the name struck fear deep within her being.
“Oh, you will my slave. You will indeed.” He laughed, the sound ringing through the carriage. “There are many hungry sailors on the ship, who will be looking at you as a source of entertainment. Although I'm not willing to put you out for their sexual use, but I have a few things in mind which might well help brighten their day. Perhaps they will think that you will be offered up to them at a later date— and it would amuse me to let them think such.”
Cruel, and he wasn't this way only to her, but to others as well. She'd seen a hint of that in the house where she had waited for him for the past few days. But now— now she began to see just what he was truly capable of.
And with Davien sent in the wrong direction, led away through the night, through the maze of London, she would never be free of him. Stepping onto the ship she would be locked into a fate that would be hers to live through for the rest of her life.
No. I can't do this. I won't let him take me away from London. I have to find a way around this. A way past what is being forced upon me.
She felt the carriage turn, the stones rougher, as if this part of the road hadn't been tended as well as other parts had. Celeste tried to keep her features calm, to prevent herself from giving away how she felt, how her mind now offered too many dangerous images of the life she would be facing if he managed to take her to this Island with her as his slave.
Celeste forced herself to look out of the carriage window, but there were too many things that passed by the small space, and it only added to the turmoil that rocked her stomach. Behind her self-imposed mask of ice, she struggled to keep some measure of calm, to bring her thoughts back into focus.
The sailors.
He was going to hint at the temptation of using her body. What if she found one willing to risk his anger for the chance to slip between her thighs?
Yes. Yes, of course. It's so simple. A man will pay almost anything to bury himself between the thighs of a woman when he has been driven half mad with lust. And I have learned, if nothing else, to tempt a man. Any man. I can and will do this.
He'd fallen silent again, which closed any further doors of communication for her, at least for now. She lifted her chin slightly, the ice clasped close to her heart. She would remain calm, he'd not see her fear, not taste it, instead she would be the obedient slave at his feet, the perfect little piece of property, until the time came for her to act.
And act fully.
* * * *
“Master Raven, it's been a long time since I last had the pleasure of your company.” The man who spoke had risen to his feet from behind a large table in the wooden building close to the water's edge. His beard was cropped short, it was black with shots of silver through the darkness. A dozen small scars marred his weather beaten face, and a merry glint in his eyes hinted at a humor she had been denied in months. “And who is this pretty little thing you've brought into my office?”
“My property, Captain Shaun. And drop the Raven references here. I don't need someone else hearing that right now.” Tearlach replied sharply, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “And I need to book passage on your ship for myself and my girl. I know you're heading for France and it would be easier on your purse if even a small percentage of your outgoing costs were covered.”
“Costs are being mostly covered, investors and outgoing cargo.” The other man's gaze instantly narrowed. “Yes, I am. Southern France. But why do you want to go there? These are troubling times, not one to be on the seas without good cause. Especially with such a pretty little wench.”
“I have my reasons and will pay well. The girl will also provide some entertainment for your men. Within reason of course.”
“In that you're treading on dangerous water. She's a pretty piece indeed, men will fight and die to lay their hands on such a woman and you plan on dangling her in front of men who might not get to spend time with a woman for months on end? No. What you're suggesting is a recipe for disaster, perhaps even mutiny. Unless you kept the woman below decks, out of the way, or made sure there was no hint at just what she was. If they believed she was a good woman, one of decent status, they might leave her be.”
“You know me. I couldn't— no— wouldn't be able to hide what she is to me. They'd find out sooner or later. It would be better to be honest with what she was from the start.”
“And I'd have a mutiny on my hands the minute they realized you weren't going to share the wench. No. I can't risk that. They are a good crew, but they're still only human and can only take so much temptation thrown in their faces before they react to it.”
Celeste kept her gaze lowered as she stood at the side of Tearlach's chair. Good, the Captain was confirming what she thought might happen. If she could catch the eye of the right man— though she could see the tension rippling across Tearlach's shoulders, he wasn't happy about this.
“Is there no way I can book passage on your vessel, or another heading out in the next day or so?”
“Not that I can think of.” Shaun flashed a smile as he looked over Celeste. “But we can talk about this, over dinner, aboard ship. Least I can do. They won't rebel if they think she's just a visitor. I'd like to take a closer look at this girl of yours, if you don't mind. I know the rules. No sex unless you give the word. Been around you too often my friend. But tell me one thing. Why Southern France?”
“Inquisition Island.”
The Captain's jaw dropped. “But— but you don't let others touch what belongs to you without consent. I know that place encourages slaves, pretty toys, male and female, but you're missing something here. They don't allow toys to be restricted from the touches of others.”
There was a moment's silence, and Celeste tensed, almost able to feel the temperature drop in the room. She glanced, carefully, at Tearlach, watching the set of his shoulders change. The knots all but visible beneath his coat. Hadn't he known about that rule?
If he had then he wouldn't have thought to bring her to that Island.
That meant plans truly did have to change. He wasn't the sharing type. He'd set his heart and mind on leaving London for the Island and now— now he had hit not one but two major stumbling blocks.
“I had hoped that things would not be quite as strict in that area.” Tearlach growled, shaking his head.
“You know ther
e are male and female slaves there, as well as both male and female owners there. I know you have had issues with the idea of women being dominant before, but you'd have to accept it there. No choice. Not if you want to live there, or even visit there.”
He snorted. “A few hours with me and they'd change their minds.”
“If you weren't kicked out for trying to force a dominant woman into submission. They don't take kindly to that there. You'd be punished. Perhaps put in a collar yourself. Either a punishment or a permanent one. Don't think you'd enjoy that too much.” Captain Shaun chuckled, his smile dancing within his eyes.
“That's insane. How can the place be run that way? Women belong on their knees, licking and kissing at our boots.” Tearlach quickly began to rant, his hands clenched into fists on his lap. “I've never met a woman yet who doesn't have a submissive streak. They just need a good... ”
“Old friend,” the Captain interrupted. “You may not believe there are dominant women out there, but I've traveled across this fair world of ours and met more than a few in person.”
“It's a foolish choice.”
“It is one that works for those of the Island and if you wish to join them there, then you must accept their rules. I don't think you're ready to join them. Perhaps you should take a few days to sit back and think it through.”
Women allowed to be dominant?
The seed of an idea sparked into life. If women were allowed to be dominant there and she arrived on the Island as a free woman, not a slave, then she'd be able to keep others away from her unless she wanted to spend time with them. She just needed to find out a little more about it.
“Bollox,” Tearlach snarled, shaking his head. “Shit. I can't take the risk of heading there just yet. Not until I can get my head wrapped around those damn stupid laws of theirs. And I'll need to write to the Lord of the Island, make sure the offer of that position is still open with them. Maybe there is something I can arrange, a personal slave, or whatever works so I can keep her from having to be with others unless I wish it.”
“We can discuss this over a meal, the offer is still there.”
“You're a good friend, Shaun,” Tearlach nodded, pushing to his feet, his shoulders still tight.
“Not at all, you've given me a reason to put these papers to one side. They're boring the shit out of me and I'd prefer to ignore them until I'm out at sea anyway.” Shaun stabbed his finger at the pile of papers, a wry smile claiming his features. “And I would like to see a little more of this new toy of yours. She is a very intriguing. That coloring is unique.”
Heat flushed across her cheeks under the compliments and the bands of muscle around her chest tightened. When a man said something about her looks sooner or later he wanted to see her nude, and do— do things with her that she would have no choice but to submit to and even enjoy.
Davien had changed her, for all time.
* * * *
She knelt, stripped down to just the corset and stockings, at the side of the table within the Captain's cabin. The door was firmly closed, with the bolt in place, so no member of the crew would be able to simply walk in and see what was going on. It wasn't the best of protections, but she'd able to grab the dress and pull it on before they let someone into the room.
Not because they were ashamed of what she looked like, or of treating a woman as little more than property. No, they simply wanted to avoid any problems with the crew being denied the use of her body. And the Captain had been right, there would have been issues, fights, even the risk of mutiny though the ship was still docked. Despite the small voice that had told her to cry out for help to the men, she was better off waiting. Tearlach was armed, she'd seen the butt of his flintlock pistol, and she didn't want to be the cause of another man's death.
Was he a good shot?
The rumors in Ireland had claimed that he was.
Better to act when he wasn't watching for trouble, if such a time existed.
“So, where did you pick up this pretty little chit?” Shaun leaned back in his chair, a half empty plate scattered with chicken bones, in front of him.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't been offered any food by either man, but she tried to keep it under control. She didn't need to get in trouble over something as foolish as asking to eat at the wrong time. But it still didn't stop her stomach from repeating its complaint about the lack of food.
“Here, in London.”
“You stole a woman of her caliber off the street? Are you out of your mind?”
“She's Irish, like me. I doubt she will be... ”
“Tearlach. You and I have been friends for years, and I've known you to do some foolish things. But she carries herself like a lady. Even if she was in someone else's employment the odds are she was a companion to some high-ranking woman, or their daughter. And she will be missed.”
The Raven burst into laughter, shaking his head as he took a long swig from a mug of ale. When he set it down on the table, his dark eyes were bright with mirth. “It's nothing like that. She's not a servant.”
“Then I suggest you explain. I have no interest in being caught up in the type of mess that stealing a favored servant can cause. And it's obvious she has the mannerisms and deportment of someone who could easily fit in with the wealthy members of society.”
“She's a slave. She ran from her owner here in London and I picked her up off the street the night she slipped free from him.”
“And the name of her owner?”
“Lord Davien Blood.”
The color drained from Shaun's face. “Are you a fool, man? Blood doesn't take kindly to people stealing from him.”
“The man's a fop,” Tearlach snorted.
Celeste struggled to keep her face straight. The last thing she would of described Davien as would have been a fop. But if Tearlach truly believed that about her true owner, then so much the better, it would play to her advantage when the time came.
“No. He's not. He's a cold-blooded killer.”
“I don't know what you've been drinking, but I'd like a cup of it. Blood is no killer. He hasn't got it in him to take the life of another human being.”
Shaun shook his head, draining the mug of ale before he all but slammed it down on the table. “You don't know him the way I do. He's a cold-hearted killer. He's taken part in the hunts through the past five years. Killed at least eight men that I know of, maybe more.”
“Hunts? What the hell are you talking about?” Tearlach pushed back his chair and stood up.
“Slave hunts. One slave, two men, the one that gets to the slave first, and can defend her from the other hunter, is the winner. More often than not the loser dies.” Shaun frowned, his gaze shifting to Celeste. “She looks like the sort of wench he'd go for. Unique, not the everyday sort of whore. I doubt she came willingly to him. And you say she's Irish like you? Not the normal sort of coloring for an Irish wench is it?”
“No,” Tearlach's tone had become thoughtful. “You're sure about this hunt thing?”
“Very. I lost one of my business partners that way. Son of a wealthy man. Family covered it up instead of it hitting the news. Made it sound like a hunting accident. Well, of course it was, just not one the Ton would approve of.” Shaun stood up and walked around the table. “The lass, might I take a better look at her?”
“Her name is Celeste. And yes, go ahead. Just no fucking her.”
“Wasn't about to.” Shaun reached down, grabbing her by the arm and tugged her to her feet. Her breath caught in the back of her throat and she came up without any measure of resistance. Oh, she knew this game all too well, and if she acted as anything other than the gentle, willing young woman, one trained to do as she was told, then there would be problems. Ones she wasn't willing to face just yet.
“She'll obey you well enough. And feel free to make her yelp. Pain might do her good. She responds well to it.”
“Ah and once you have her squirming under my touch, what do you intend
to do then?” Shaun, ran one hand softly across her breasts, teasing the upper curves with a light caress. Her body tightened, her breasts pressed tight against the confines of the corset she wore. Her nipples hardened into points that were barely hidden by the boned contraption that had been tied into place about her body. “It would be a little unwise of me to work her up, and have my body hoping for something if she's to crawl back to your feet, leaving me with nothing at all.”
“You have a point. Then maybe I should let her sweet mouth pleasure you, whilst I take her cunt or ass for myself.”
Shaun shot him a hard look, the lines about his eyes crinkling, his lips pressed into a tight thin line for a moment. Tension played through his body, then eased as he spoke. “Now, either you're trying to play mind games with me, or you're truly willing to share her to that extent.”
“If I lead you on then you'll call to your men when we leave the ship, toss her to them in retribution. Why would I take that risk if Blood is as dangerous as you say?”
Shaun didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked down at Celeste, running his fingers over her shoulders and across the upper curves of her breasts. She tried not to make a sound under his touch. She had to keep control over her body before it became too late.
“Then you give your word that I will be able to use her mouth.”
“Given.” Tearlach pulled his chair away from the table, setting it against the wall before he sat back down. “I'm going to enjoy this.”
Shaun grinned, turning his full attention to Celeste. “Then you and I are going to have an interesting time, girl. Lean over the table, press your hands against the table, part your thighs, and turn your head toward your Master.”
No more reprieves.
Celeste nodded, and walked over to the table. Her bare bottom well exposed by the corset and stockings she wore. Her breasts pressed tight against the boned contraption, threatening to spill out of the top as she bent over the table and pressed her hands to the wood. She bit back a whimper as she parted her thighs and rested her head on the surface, turning her face toward Tearlach. The tops of her stockings and the bottom of the corset, frames her back backside, her naked sex peeking out between her spread thighs.
