The Red Drifter of the Sea: A Steamy Opposites Attract Pirate Romance (Pirates of the Isles Book 3)

by Celeste Barclay

  “In you scoot,” Snake Eye ordered as he pushed a door open. Moira looked around the cabin, spacious compared to the one she’d occupied for three days. The room was clean, and the bunk crisply made. Books were stacked on a table and a map was unfurled beside them. She noticed a chest at the foot of the bed and one against a wall. While the table took up most of the center of the cabin, there was a washstand tucked away and another, smaller table that held more scrolls and what Moira assumed were ledgers. There was a porthole through which filtered light poured.

  Snake Eye nudged Moira across the cabin, producing rope Moira hadn’t noticed before. When he stooped to bind her ankles, she considered fighting him, jamming her knee into his face, kicking him backwards. But even if she escaped the cabin, she wouldn’t escape the ship. And even if she could escape the ship, where would she go? Jump into the sea? Being set adrift was what she’d attempted to avoid by speaking up. Moira knew her only current choice was to bide her time until she could speak to Kyle.

  Her eyes flew to the ceiling when Snake Eye tossed the rope he’d finished binding her hands with over a hook. He’d left enough slack for her arms to be pulled over her head, and now she was stretched onto her toes. She watched him tie it off to another hook on the wall behind her. It only took her a moment to realize the rope was intended for someone far taller than her. To make it reach the wall hook, she practically dangled from the hook in the ceiling. Her arms burned with pain before Snake Eye slipped from the cabin. She did what she could to twist until she had a view of the porthole. Her intuition told her Kyle would leave her down there for as long as he could, so she settled for gazing out at the desolate expanse of water. The freedom it had offered the night before now seemed like an endless cage.

  Kyle forced himself to remain focused on the new cargo being stored in his hold. He did a quick inventory and estimated the value, pleased that they’d commandeered the MacDonnell vessel. His mind floated back to Moira over and over. He’d recognized her the moment he’d seen her, but he assumed she didn’t recognize him. He’d been relieved when she spoke up because he hadn’t been sure he could throw her overboard, even though he’d given the order. She was still the delicately boned woman he remembered from a year ago, but there was spunk in her eyes he hadn’t witnessed before. She’d been meek and servile in front of her brother and sister. He remembered Senga’s suspicion that Dónal MacDonnell beat Moira, but he hadn’t imagined he’d send her on a voyage with a less-than-adequate crew. He’d been suspicious when he discovered how few men there were on the Irish ship as he and his men attacked in the dark. Now he questioned why Moira was on board, and why she dressed as a lad.

  “Capt’n,” Tomas, his first mate approached. “Found a sack near where the stowaway hid. It has women’s clothes in it.”

  Kyle drew him out of earshot from the men working around them. “Aye. We’ve captured Moira MacDonnell.”

  Tomas looked aghast as he shook his head in disbelief. “That bastard Dónal’s sister?”

  “The very one.”

  “Too bad it’s not Lizzie. At least we could have a good rut before doing away with her.” Tomas paused and cast an assessing look over Kyle. “You’re not planning on getting rid of her.”

  “I’m not sure yet. There are too many questions to be answered before I can decide how best to use this unexpected boon,” Kyle said speculatively.

  “Boon? She sounded ready to piss vinegar earlier. I don’t think you’ll be counting it a boon for long. She’s not like she was a year ago.”

  “So I noticed,” Kyle responded flippantly.

  “How long are you going to keep her down there wondering if you’ll swing her from the yardarm?”

  “I have work to do up here. I’ll get to her when I can,” Kyle tried to sound nonchalant, but Tomas’s snort signaled he’d failed.

  “Afraid of the wee lass, are you? I would be. Vinegar, I tell you. Vinegar,” Tomas warned with a chuckle as he walked away shaking his head. Kyle remained above deck and at the helm until late afternoon, when he knew he couldn’t avoid Moira any longer. He needed to decide what to do with her; if it was a ransom, he needed to send a messenger overland immediately. Kyle swung down the ladder well, not bothering with the steps, then paused to take a deep breath before opening the door to his cabin.

  “Fuck,” Kyle hissed as he lurched across his cabin. It had only taken a second to see Moira was unconscious, her head lolling against her arm. As he rushed toward her, he noticed the sleeves of her tunic had slipped down. Her arms had bruises, but the unmarred skin was deathly white. He realized she stood on her toes and could only imagine the agony she’d experienced for hours, surely feeling like her arms were being ripped from her body. He nearly counted it a blessing that she’d passed out. He tugged the rope free from the wall hook and lunged to catch her as she sagged forward. She felt like little more than a rag doll as she hung over his arm.

  Bracing her with one arm, he pushed her hair from her face and tapped her cheeks. After seeing the bruises mottling her arms, he was hesitant to slap her cheeks. Between the injuries she had before she came aboard and what she suffered from Snake Eye’s carelessness and his own neglect, the shred of conscience he still had barked at him not to hurt her any further.

  “Moira. Lass, can you hear me?” Kyle looked around before looping his foot around the leg of a chair and dragging it toward him. He eased Moira into the seat, but she was so deeply unconscious that her body keeled sideways. “Moira.”

  Still trying to hold her up, he strained for the flask of whisky on the small table beside the wall. He pulled the stopper free with his teeth before setting the potent alcohol beneath her nose. She twitched as she inhaled the aroma, and when she lifted her head on her own accord, Kyle placed the flask to her lips. With her bound hands, she held the container and drew three large gulps before pushing it away. Kyle expected her to cough and splutter, but instead, she turned bloodshot eyes to him.

  “You knew it was me,” Moira observed. Kyle wasn’t sure that he should admit that he’d known it was her. “You would have let me die even though you knew from the beginning.”

  “Aye,” Kyle forced the word. But as he looked at Moira, he knew it for the lie he wanted her to believe. He wouldn’t have been able to do it. But he wouldn’t confide that to anyone, least of all his prisoner. Moira gazed up at him and nodded. He wasn’t sure what to make of her acceptance.

  “How far have we sailed?” Moira asked as she rubbed the pins and needles from her right arm.

  Kyle was unprepared for the question. He expected her to plead and whine, but he supposed he should have known that wasn’t like Moira. That would have been Lizzie, not her sister.

  “A few hours,” Kyle hedged. He watched as Moira pushed herself to her feet. He reached out to support her, but her scathing glare had him snatching back his hands.

  “We head south. So you aren’t taking me to my brother,” Moira stated as she worked on her left arm.

  “Not yet.”

  “Not ever,” Moira countered while she flexed her fingers.

  “But the ransom,” Kyle said as he cocked a patronizing eyebrow.

  “That he won’t pay,” Moira raised a matching eyebrow.

  “What were you doing on that ship, Moira?” Kyle stepped closer when she shrugged and returned to looking out the porthole. He watched her lips press together and noticed her body tensed when she moved her arms. “Moira, answer me.”

  While dangling for hours, Moira had realized that even if Kyle threw her into the water, she wasn’t yet near the stretch of sea the O’Malleys frequented. It was unlikely that they would find her, as they might have if Kyle had gone through with his earlier threat. She’d rather be eaten by a shark than die at Dermot’s hands. It would likely be far less painful. She also understood that Kyle left her alone for hours on purpose to break her spirit, but she suspected he hadn’t anticipated her dangling like she’d gone to the gallows. The remorse she saw as she opened her eyes fe
lt like vindication.

  “Ignoring me doesn’t bode well for your lovely arse,” Kyle warned. Moira slowly angled her head toward him and swept her eyes over him from head to toe and back up again. Without a word, she turned back to the window. Kyle couldn’t fail to recognize the spark of interest that flared in Moira’s eyes at his threat, and his already hardening cock stood at attention. The feel of her in his arms had aroused him in an instant. He’d blamed it on not being with a woman for several months, but as Moira cast her assessing gaze over him, heat shot to his groin. He stepped closer, wondering if she would react to him crowding her. The Moira he’d met a year ago would have cowered, or at least he’d assumed she would. But the woman before him didn’t spare him a glance. Bemused, he whispered, “Who are you?”

  “You know who I am, Kyle.” Moira’s voice came out raspier than she expected, but Kyle’s closeness disconcerted her despite how she fought not to show it.

  “You’re not the woman I met last year,” Kyle murmured.

  “I am. She’s always been there,” Moira corrected.

  “You still haven’t answered my question, Moira. I expect an answer,” Kyle gave himself a mental shake, pulling himself out from the peculiar haze that had settled over his mind.

  “You’d beat a woman you’ve had strung up like a flank of beef?” Moira asked with disgust.

  “I’m not your brother, Moira. I don’t beat women. I—”

  “Leave them to die,” Moira countered. “After all, you’re the Red Drifter now. Had I not spoken up, I would likely be in some fish’s gut by now, or washing up on the O’Malleys’ shore.”

  “Something has loosened your tongue these days,” Kyle grumbled.

  “Gag me if you wish to shut me up,” Moira rejoined.

  “I can think of something to shove in there,” Kyle muttered as he brought the whisky flask to his mouth.

  “Torturing me wasn’t enough? Now you intend to rape me?” Moira seethed. Kyle froze before he took his first sip.

  “I’ve committed many sins in my life, few of which I regret. But I have never forced a woman, Moira.” Kyle’s penetrating green eyes bore into her until they eventually crinkled at the sides with his grin. “I don’t have to.”

  “But you think to shut my mouth with your cock inside it,” Moira pointed out. When Kyle’s eyes widened, she chuckled. “You assumed I didn’t understand what you implied. How could I not if I asked if you’d force me?”

  “What does a maiden know of that, even if your sister is Lizzie?” Kyle snapped.

  Moira looked at him with a furrowed brow and a smirk. “Perhaps you shouldn’t keep assuming that you know me so well.”

  “Are you saying you’re not a virgin?” Kyle’s voice rasped.

  “I’m saying you shouldn’t make so many assumptions,” Moira said smugly. She squeaked when Kyle pounced. He pulled her against his body, her hands trapped between them as his mouth descended to hers. Rather than panic and pull away, Moira pressed herself closer and opened to him. He stepped Moira backwards until her back pressed against the bulkhead. He didn’t need to make any more assumptions: he was kissing a woman with experience. With her hands caught between them, she fisted his leine as he pressed his rod against her mons. Frustrated by not being able to feel her breasts pressed to him, he raised her arms and pinned them against the wall, but her whimper of pain made him jump back. He’d forgotten that she’d suffered his neglect all day. She had been tortured, just as she accused.

  “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me,” Kyle murmured as he kissed her cheek near the corner of her eye, tasting a trace of salt that he knew didn’t come from the sea air. She had been crying earlier. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I saw you. At Dunluce, not your ship.”

  Moira bit her bottom lip, pulling the puffy flesh between her teeth. “I wanted the same thing.”

  “Is that all you wanted?” Kyle whispered. Moira looked at him for a long moment before she shook her head. His large hand slipped between her arms and palmed her small breast. He watched as her eyes drifted closed and her lips parted. It was one of the most sensual sights he’d ever beheld. He massaged the pert mound, brushing his thumb over her nipple. The loose leine had hidden her breasts well, so she hadn’t bound them. Now Kyle could feel every contour. “Why were you on the ship?”

  The trance ended as abruptly as it started. Moira pushed Kyle’s hands away and moved to cover her breasts with her upper arms. Her hands shielded her mons. She might enjoy Kyle’s kisses and his touch, but she didn’t trust him with the truth.

  “Back to being recalcitrant,” Kyle tsked. “I warned you it wouldn’t serve your proud little bottom well.” Kyle didn’t expect Moira to turn around and press her hips back at him in offering, the challenge written clearly in her eyes as she looked back over her shoulder. He hooked his fingers into her waistband and tugged her backward until she landed over his lap once he was seated. With her hands and feet still restrained, she was powerless to stop Kyle from pulling the laces free from her leggings and pushing them down over her hips. The first spank echoed in the cabin, but Moira made no sound. The second and third elicited sighs that Kyle felt rather than heard. The fourth and fifth made her shift restlessly.

  “Who have you been with, Moira?” Kyle demanded. “Who spanked you? Taught you to enjoy this?”

  This truth she would give him. “No one. I would have fought off any other man.”

  Kyle rained down another sharp slap along the crease where her buttocks met her thighs. He gazed at the reddening skin and wanted to groan. He was certain Moira could feel his arousal. How could she not, when his cock pressed against her ribs? He angled his hand for the next slap so his fingers dipped between Moira’s thighs. He did groan when he found what he suspected. She was dripping for him.

  “I already know you like this, Moira,” Kyle whispered as he pulled a dirk from his belt and leaned over, cutting the bindings from her ankles. He slipped his fingers between her thighs, caressing her folds once then resting them against her heated skin. “And I know you’re familiar with what I can offer you next. Answer my questions, and I’ll give you what you want.”

  Moira struggled not to concede. It had been years since a man had touched her, but her body hadn’t forgotten the neediness, the longing for more. No man had spanked her as Kyle was, but she’d received one or two in the heat of passion and reveled in it. As Kyle’s cock twitched against her, she had the strongest urge to slip from his lap and free his sword until her mouth could become its sheath, just as Kyle had implied earlier. She kept her eyes closed and tried to calm her breathing, but she fought and failed to stifle her moan when Kyle’s fingers dipped within.

  “Lusty, are you?” Kyle mused. He worked his fingers within her, and Moira was certain there had been nothing more divine. Then his thumb pressed against her nub. She shifted again, trying to create the friction she knew would bring her release. “Answer any of my questions, Moira, and I will give you what you crave. Why were you on the ship? Who was he?”

  Moira shook her head, but her breath caught. She struggled to show no signs that her release washed over her, but the stinging spanking that followed made her back arch. It pressed her mound against Kyle’s hard thigh, triggering yet another torrent of feeling from her core into her belly and out through her limbs. She’d gone so long without that her body had taken little prodding. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her heart pounding in her throat.

  “I didn’t give you permission to climax, sweet one.”

  Moira twisted to see Kyle bring his fingers coated with her dew to his tongue. His gaze was purely predatory, gloating, as he licked them clean, knowing he’d satisfied her. Moira shuddered and shut her eyes, but the defiance that she’d smothered for too many years reared its head. Her mind was at war with itself, warning her that she didn’t know him well enough to be certain he wouldn’t beat her. But the louder voice urged her to challenge him, to test what she could get away with. She slippe
d from his lap and pressed her shoulders between his knees. Kyle did nothing to stop her as her still-bound hands pulled at the laces to his leggings.

  Kyle feared he’d climax without Moira so much as touching him when she licked her lips as his cock sprung free. Her hands wrapped around him, stroking him thrice before her lips brushed against the tip of his rod. She looked up at him as her tongue circled the bulbous head, and air hissed from between Kyle’s teeth as she lowered her mouth onto him. He scooped her hair back as her eyes drifted closed. Kyle almost believed she reveled in the task, but reminded himself that few women enjoyed the act as much as they claimed. But Moira’s moans made him wonder if she was one of those rarities.

  Kyle felt his bollocks tighten as she took his full length, allowing the tip to slide down her throat. Releasing her hair, he pulled the neckline of her leine apart, tugging until he exposed the tops of her breasts. He tried to press her away as he felt his release surging forward. But Moira batted his hands. Grasping her hair and tugging enough to sting, he barked, “Stroke me.”

  They both watched as Kyle’s seed splashed against her lips and chin before coating her breasts. Moira ran her tongue over her lips and chin as she awkwardly swiped her fingers across her chest before bringing them to her mouth. Kyle sat panting as he watched Moira cast him a look of smug satisfaction before dropping her gaze to the floor. She kneeled before him, her hands resting in her lap, her head bowed, and her gaze averted. Kyle’s cock twitched, struggling to come back to life so soon after such a draining release. The picture of submission Moira made as she rested between his knees tempted him to toss her onto his bunk and sink into her. But as demure as she looked now, she had still defied him more than once. He would discover what Moira hid from him and learn if she was the type of woman he’d sought, but accepted that he would never find.