by Merry Farmer
“I think we’re in the clear,” he said once they were alone.
“Is the lock on the hold sufficient?” she asked, her eyes alight with excitement.
“I believe so,” he said, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it aside. “I’ve set guards to watch it as well.”
“Then we’ve won,” Lettuce said, beaming and working loose the buttons of her waistcoat.
“We have,” Martin agreed. “And now, what did you think of tonight’s entertainment?” He leaned against his bed to tug off his boots.
“I thought it was salacious and inappropriate,” she said breathlessly, stepping back to the chair so that she could remove her own boots.
“As did I,” Martin went on. “Which is why I think we need to reenact the whole thing in a way that is far more palatable.”
“Quite right,” she said, kicking her boots aside then standing and shimmying out of her waistcoat and shirt.
Martin couldn’t wait. As soon as she was bared from the waist up, he abandoned his own undressing to surge toward her, sweeping her into his arms. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met,” he murmured against her ear, closing a hand around her breast and working her nipple to a bud between his thumb and forefinger. “I will never get tired of feasting on the sight of you.”
“Even if I grow old and wrinkly and fat with age?” she asked, her hands moving to undo his breeches.
“Even then,” he said.
He closed his mouth over hers in a kiss that was designed to sear their souls together forever. It was madness to him that he could have fallen so completely in love with her in such a short span of time, but he had. He couldn’t imagine his life without her softness in it, couldn’t imagine his bed without her splayed across it, her legs parted invitingly. Everything about his life on the high seas was about to end, but she was everything that waited for him on the sunny shores of the future.
Her hands had resumed their work as he kissed her and dreamed of their life together, so it was a delicious surprise when she opened the front of his breeches and slid her fingers along his hardening length. He let out a wordless cry of need and thrust his hips against her touch.
“I plan to have my way with you tonight,” she murmured against his lips, then added, “You unfortunate Sabine.”
Martin’s brow shot up. “I thought the Sabines were women.”
“I’m the one wearing the breeches here,” she answered in a commanding tone, pushing his breeches down over his hips.
They sagged to his knees as she continued to stroke him until he thought he would go mad. He had rocketed to the edge of completion so fast that he feared he was in danger of embarrassing himself, but in the nick of time, she pulled back. She finished with the buttons of his waistcoat, then tore that and his shirt up over his head while he kicked off his breeches. The result was that he stood before her, fully naked, while she took in the sight of his body with hungry eyes.
“On your knees,” she ordered, pointing to the floorboards.
A ripple of sharp desire shot through Martin at the role reversal. He obeyed her in an instant, ignoring the discomfort in his knees and the ache in his arm as he knelt before her.
“Now, pleasure me,” she demanded, placing her hands on her waist above the top of her breeches.
“Yes, mistress,” Martin answered with false submission and a grin. Or perhaps it wasn’t false submission at all.
He reached for the fastenings of her breeches, mesmerized by what he would find there. They both sucked in breaths as he worked them loose enough to tug down to her thighs, exposing the dark patch of curls between her legs. He traced his hands over her hips and backside, drawing his fingertips forward over her thighs to tease between her legs. She let out a sound of approval, but it wasn’t until he pulled her breeches all the way off and she was able to stand with her legs farther apart that he was really able to give her what she wanted.
Once she had moved to lean against the side of his bed, legs parted farther, he swept his hands up her thighs, teasing her sex with feather-light touches. She gasped and gripped the edge of the bed, her breath coming in shorter gasps that did miraculous things to her breasts. He was aching with the need to plunder her, but he had work to do first.
With one hand still stroking her glorious wetness, he leaned into her, burrowing between her legs until his tongue found the inner sweetness of her sex. She grasped handfuls of his hair and held on tight, pulling in a way he found erotic, as he circled her clitoris with his tongue.
“Yes,” she sighed, her thighs shaking slightly. “Like that.”
He hummed in acquiescence, flickering his tongue and sliding two of his fingers into her sweet, hot depth. She gripped his hair harder and began to move subtly against him.
A rush of triumph flooded him. She wanted this. She was working to come. It made his cock throb with the need to be inside of her, balls-deep. Every sound of enjoyment she made, every jerking movement designed to bring them closer, sent mad desire rushing through him.
“Stop,” she squeaked suddenly, panting.
“Stop?” He glanced questioningly up at her.
“Get on the bed,” she ordered. “Lie on your back. I want to come with you inside me.”
Martin’s mouth dropped open, though he didn’t know whether it was in reflexive protest or agreement. He pushed himself to his feet, then practically tumbled onto the bed, spreading his arms and legs in invitation. His prick stood straight up against his abdomen, hot and already slick with pre-cum.
She scrambled onto the bed with him, straddling his thighs and licking her lips as she took hold of his cock. “I like this,” she said, breathless, her eyes hazy with lust. “You’re big and hot and delicious.” She emphasized her words by leaning forward and taking his tip into her mouth.
Martin let out a string of curses at how good it felt and gripped the bedclothes. It took all he had not to come in her mouth. She seemed to sense his desperation, or perhaps she was close enough herself to give up teasing for serious fucking. She held him upright and moved to position him just right, and then she bore down.
They both groaned with exquisite pleasure as she bore down on him, taking his full length into her tight pussy. Her eyes went wide and her mouth formed a perfect “O”, as though she’d surprised herself by how hungrily she’d taken him. That was arousing as hell in its own right, but then she began to move.
She was slow at first, uncertain enough to hint to Martin that she’d never been on top before. She was a fast learner, though, and within no time she had set a steady rhythm that had him growling with lust. He grabbed her hips and thrust into her as she moved, steadying her. Her cries of pleasure grew faster and higher-pitched. She straightened, shifting his angle of penetration, and grasped her breasts, pinching her nipples. The whole show was glorious, and when she let out a fierce cry, her face contorted in orgasm, her inner muscles throbbing around him, he couldn’t stop himself from spilling hard into her.
It was heavenly, the best he’d ever experienced. His orgasm was so strong that it left him as weak as he’d been pretending to be all day. Weak in the best possible way. As she sagged over him, adjusting so that their hot, sweaty bodies twined together inextricably, Martin was certain he’d never been happier. His enemies had been captured, his days as a pirate were over, and the woman he was certain he would love for the rest of his life was in his arms.
Chapter 9
Letty slept like a dream, in spite of the threats pressing down on her and the uncertainty of her future. Except, the more she snuggled against Martin and the more she let her dreams drift off to new island homes festooned with tropical flowers and ringing with the sound of children’s laughter, the less uncertain she believed her future was. Martin wanted her. He was a good man with solid plans for the future, and she could build a whole new life with him.
No one ever had to know. She smiled as that thought greeted her when she was jostled awake in the small hours of the morning. So
meone was moving below deck, but the overall peace that pervaded the ship kept her relaxed and loose. No one from her former life ever had to know that she had survived the pirate attack and pledged herself to the captain. She would have to find a way to contact her sisters, of course, but if her father went on believing she had been lost at sea along with Pigge she wouldn’t set him straight.
The bumping below continued. Letty drew in a breath and stretched along Martin’s large, naked body.
“Are you awake?” he asked in soft tones, moving a hand to brush her hair back from her face.
“Mmm-hmm,” she hummed, snuggling closer to him. “Though it’s a shame. I was having the most beautiful dream. How do you feel about the name Victor for a son?”
She felt his intake of breath in the darkness and the way his body warmed slightly. She even thought she could hear his mouth curve up in a smile as he continued to stroke her.
“I think that’s just fine,” he said, radiating contentment. “As long as you like Josephine as a daughter’s name.”
“I knew someone named Josephine,” Letty said. “She was lovely. We were not bosom friends, but I always liked her.”
“Josephine and Victor,” Martin said, lightness in his voice. “We need to think of at least half a dozen other names too.”
“Do we?” Letty giggled.
Martin was prevented from answering as the noise below suddenly grew louder. More than that, the bumping and thumping was joined by sudden shouts and curses. Even more cries suddenly arose from well to the side of the ship, from The Vixen.
Letty and Martin sat abruptly together. Martin instantly swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, stooping to grab his clothes from the floor.
“What’s going on?” Letty asked following his lead and scrambling for her own clothes.
“I can only imagine one thing,” Martin said in a grim voice.
A moment later, his unspoken answer was confirmed by a furious knock on the door.
“Captain,” Rayburn’s voice shouted from the other side. “Dick and the others have escaped. Seems they weren’t drunk and drugged after all. The ship is under attack.”
“Hold them below if at all possible,” Martin ordered, dressing with record speed.
“Aye, aye,” Rayburn called. His footsteps retreated.
Letty had gone from peaceful contentment to stark fear so fast that her head spun and her hands shook as she thrust her legs into her breeches and searched for her shirt. “Can we hold them off?” she asked, feeling as though she were making a mess of dressing.
Martin was far quicker than she was, but he didn’t bother to don all of his clothes. “We can if we act fast and if my men fight valiantly,” he said before dashing to a cabinet at the side of the cabin and taking out a pistol and a sword.
A small moan escaped from Letty before she could stop it. The sight of Martin arming himself should have been exciting and invigorating, but all she saw was the possibility that her dreams from mere minutes before could be ended before they’d begun.
Martin must have seen her expression of fear. He finished tucking weapons into his belt and strode across the cabin to her, kissing her soundly. “I’ve fought in dozens of battles like this and barely earned a scratch. I won’t let one mutineer stop me from having the life I dream of, a life with you.”
Instead of encouraging her, his words brought tears to her eyes. “I’m so afraid for you.”
“Don’t be,” he said. He stepped back, taking a long knife from his belt and handing it to her. “Stay here and keep yourself safe. Don’t let anyone into the cabin. Protect yourself if you must. If they set the ship on fire….”
“If they what?” Letty gulped.
Martin shook his head. “I shouldn’t have said that. They won’t. Dick wants this ship as a prize. Stay here. The battle will be over soon.”
He kissed her again, then lunged toward the door and out into the rest of the ship.
Letty pressed a hand to her stomach, indulging in one, brief moment of panic as the sounds of shouting, gunfire, and even the clash of swords sounded from the rest of the ship. Her hand tightened around the handle of the dagger and she struggled to take deep breaths.
Gradually, her initial panic calmed and she set herself simple tasks, like finishing dressing, to keep her imagination from running away from her. Martin was strong. He’d survived a gunshot just that morning. He knew Dick and his men, which would give him an advantage in fighting them. And he had something far more precious than just a ship to fight for.
Those thoughts braced her a bit, but they weren’t enough. She paced the cabin a few times before her eyes settled on her portion of The Secrets of Love. As soon as she saw the book, she ran toward it and threw open the pages, desperate for a distraction. Her gaze narrowed on a passage she’d already memorized.
“Love and Courage are intertwined, for Love may be torn from us at any time. The only way to face the fear of losing our beloved is to fight for every moment we have with them and to give all we have to keeping our beloved safe.”
“It is,” Letty said aloud, half battle-cry, half mournful wail.
She shut the book, turning away from the table.
“What am I doing here?” she asked, tightening her grip on her dagger. She needed to be by Martin’s side, fighting for him and keeping him from harm.
With new determination, she strode toward the door. But before she reached it, the door burst open.
Her flash of relief at the idea Martin had come back for her was instantly replaced by stark horror. It wasn’t Martin who barged into the room, it was Dick.
“Thought I’d leave without you?” he said, a deadly look in his eyes. He rushed up to Letty, clamping an arm around her waist so suddenly and with such force that she dropped her dagger. “Think again, my lady.”
Letty’s fear was so overwhelming that she lost all of her strength and started to swoon. The rough way Dick handled her and his sinister laugh reminded her far too much of Pigge. She’d been helpless to stop him from hurting her then, and her mind froze in horror as she realized she would be helpless to defend herself against Dick.
But no, she could defend herself. She could fight for herself as well as for Martin. She wasn’t powerless.
Her thoughts came too late. Dick took advantage of her momentary terror to scoop her over his shoulder and carry her out of Martin’s cabin.
“Keep moving,” he called to someone Letty couldn’t see. “Clear the way.”
“No! Put me down!” she shouted, pummeling his back as best she could.
It was too late. He had her in an iron grip that made it impossible for her to effectively fight him. She made the mistake of lifting her head just as he passed through the doorway to the main deck as well. The back of her head hit the lintel hard, rendering her momentarily senseless. Pain and nausea swirled around her, and the sound of clashing and yelling on the deck blended into a hollow, distant ringing.
She didn’t recover from the blow until she’d been jostled so much that she was afraid she would be sick. When, at last, the ringing began to subside into painful throbbing and the world around her came into focus once more as Dick threw her off his shoulder, she realized she wasn’t on The Growler anymore.
Rather than setting her on her feet, Dick tossed her to the deck like a sack of potatoes. She landed hard on her backside and yelped in pain.
“Cast off,” Dick ordered. “Full sail. We’ll take advantage of the wind and get away as quickly as possible.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” several men shouted in reply.
Letty gripped her head with both hands, willing her world to stop spinning. The deck of The Vixen was as busy as she’d ever seen The Growler. She wasn’t the only lady that had been snatched either. Four other women sat wide-eyed and huddled together just a few feet away, looking stunned and frightened but unable to fight back.
Fight back. A voice in her head that sounded a lot like the author of The Secrets of Love
urged her on. Her head was still throbbing and her stomach threatened to rebel at any moment, but a new sort of energy surged through Letty. She had to fight back.
As covertly as she could, she glanced around, assessing Dick’s crew and searching for the man himself. Dick had made his way up to the quarterdeck and was issuing orders to his men on the deck and in the ship’s rigging. It disturbed Letty to discover that a good many of Dick’s men were sailors from the merchant ship. Her mind rebelled at the idea that they could join their captors to fight against good men.
She put that thought aside. There was no time to think about it now. She had to act.
With as sudden a movement as she could, she pushed to her feet and dashed toward the side of the ship that still faced The Growler. The gap between the two ships was growing wider by the second, but she could still make out the faces of The Growler’s crew in the darkness.
“Martin!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, clutching the railing. “Help! Martin! Save me!”
At first, she couldn’t tell whether anyone aboard The Growler heard her, let alone knew who she was and what she was calling for. “Martin! Help!” she called again, cupping her hands around her mouth to make her voice carry.
At last, a few figures near the edge of the ship turned to her, then began calling deeper into The Growler. Moments later, as the gap between the ships began to widen faster, Martin rushed to the railing.
“Lettuce!” he shouted.
“Martin, help!” Letty waved her arms furiously.
She was taken completely by surprise when Dick clamped an arm around her from behind and lifted her off her feet.
“She’s mine now,” he called out, adding a sinister laugh.
“Lettuce!” Martin’s furious cry was far too distant for Letty’s liking. The night closed in around him with the swiftness of death, putting more and more distance between them.
