The Red Drifter of the Sea: A Steamy Opposites Attract Pirate Romance (Pirates of the Isles Book 3)
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The command in Kyle’s voice excited Moira. She wanted to lie across his lap and let Kyle decide what happened next. She wanted to feel his command as much as hear it, knowing she would feel just as safe and protected as she did when he held her, but her conscience would be cleared.
“I still feel guilty about how I spoke to you, and I would like a spanking. Please. Capt’n,” Moira said.
“And why do you still feel guilty if I’ve already punished and forgiven you?” Kyle pressed. He suspected guilt was only a sliver of why Moira wanted the spanking. He watched her swallow as she worked through what she wanted to say before she started.
“I—I like the feel of the sting and burn, and I like to know it’s you touching me,” Moira began. “But that’s not all of it. When you’re spanking me, you’re in control. I don’t have to fear what will happen next because I know. I don’t have to try to be in control because I know you are. I don’t have to think about duty or responsibility, or fear or uncertainty, when you’re spanking me. I don’t know why I feel like that. Surely anyone—even you—hearing me must think I’m a fool.”
“And if I said I want you to surrender that control and submit to me, so I can ease that burden? What if I told you that I understand why you enjoy the punishment, why you feel unsettled and unresolved right now?”
“I’d say I think you’re the only one who could possibly understand.”
“Come here, Moira,” Kyle said as he leaned back, allowing Moira to lie across his thighs. Pushing the leine up to the middle of her back, his hand kneaded her supple globes before he landed two light spanks on each side. “I will administer ten slaps, and you will count them. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Capt’n,” Moira’s muffled voice carried to him. Kyle brought his hand down over and over, Moira counting in between. She squirmed as her body reacted to the stinging pain, feeling her body slipping toward pleasure.
“You will not climax from rubbing your quim against my thigh, sweet one, or I will deny you again,” Kyle warned.
“Yes, Capt’n,” Moira mumbled. When the spanking was through, Kyle righted Moira and eased her onto the bed. She brushed the hair from her face, and Kyle witnessed the anxiety disappear from Moira’s visage. He cocked an eyebrow, and Moira offered him a half-smile. “I feel better now, Kyle.”
Ten
Moira remained below deck for the next three days, impatient for fresh air and a change of scenery. But Kyle refused to allow her to leave the cabin, nor did he return her clothes. He warned her that the deck was in no condition for her to go traipsing around. Frustrated by his orders, which seemed more like an overreaction, Moira sulked in the cabin. When Kyle checked on her throughout the day and brought her meals, she alternated between shooting him glares and sullen pouts. She earned herself several trips over Kyle’s knees, but that was the only time she felt cared for. Left alone with little to do but sleep, eat, look out at the water, and read books that didn’t interest her, Moira wanted to climb the walls.
She grew withdrawn, answering Kyle’s questions with the barest minimum of words. She knew she was testing his patience when he was already preoccupied with repairs to the Lady Charity, but she resented being locked away when it was never her wish to come aboard in the first place. He continued his attempts to coerce information from Moira, but she only stared mutinously at him, earning those spankings each time. She had moments of contrition after each spanking when she noticed the haggard expression Kyle wore. She was remorseful and eager to make amends after each run-in, and Kyle forgave her each time, easing her need just as she did his. His adept fingers and tongue pushed her toward ecstasy over and over. But it wasn’t enough to keep her from repeating her sins when she was left alone for long stretches.
Kyle accused her of tormenting him as her revenge because she disagreed with him about remaining in the cabin. She disagreed only with his order. She knew she was being petulant, but it felt like the most surefire way to garner Kyle’s attention for the ten or fifteen minutes at a time that he spent with her. She understood the work and strain he was under, but she wished each visit didn’t start with him asking questions she was unwilling to answer. The only time they were at peace with one another was at night, when Kyle finally retired for a few hours of rest. They lay together in silence, Kyle’s larger frame wrapped around her back, his heavy arm holding her in place. There was nowhere she would have rather been.
It came to a head on the third day when Kyle brought Moira the midday meal. She refused to look up from the book she feigned reading. She exaggerated each turn of the page, running her finger below each line of words as though it fascinated her. When Kyle spoke to her, she only made sounds of agreement or disagreement, refusing to look at him or speak to him properly.
“Moira, put the book down now,” Kyle ordered. “I have put up with your insolent attitude for three days, accepting that this is a frightening and overwhelming experience for you. But you are worse than a spoiled wean. You are being willfully disrespectful and defiant. I don’t tolerate such nonsense from my crew, and I won’t tolerate it from my mistress.”
Moira turned a disinterested mien toward him and sniffed before she returned to her book. Inside, she quivered as she sensed Kyle’s growing anger. Part of her wanted to leave the ship and leave him. She’d escaped Dunluce expecting to make her way eventually to Barra, where she could live in peace and security. Instead, she found herself aboard a pirate ship with a man who desired her body but cared little for her person. She was certain there was a crate somewhere on deck where she could sit unobtrusively. But Kyle refused the suggestion each time she made it.
“And you are too controlling. I never actually agreed to be your mistress, Kyle. You brought me on your ship and stuffed me in your cabin. You assumed I would want to bed you. You assumed I would want to stay. You assumed I wouldn’t mind being ordered around when I ran away to escape that very thing. At least I had the freedom to move around Dunluce as I chose. You have me caged like a mongrel.”
“Then don’t snap and whine like one,” Kyle snarled.
“Are you calling me a dog?” Moira hissed.
“You’re acting like a bitch,” Kyle pointed out. He barely missed the book Moira hurled at him. Her wide eyes, pulled-in chin, and shaking head told him she’d reacted without thought or intention, but he cared not. He stalked over to her and pulled her from the bunk. He nearly shook her, but she already trembled. “Throw something at me again, and I won’t bother giving you a plank before I toss you into the drink. You’re not so talented that I can’t find another woman to suck me.”
Moira gasped as tears sprang to her eyes. Kyle had intended to be hurtful, and he had hit the mark. He’d come to the cabin to tell her that he might be able to take her to the top deck that evening, but she’d vented her spleen at him before he had the opportunity. Now he didn’t even want to lay eyes on her.
“Go to the corner, Moira. You’re not worth the effort to spank. Kneel there until I’m calm enough to return. Only then will I decide what to do with you,” Kyle said before slamming the cabin door. Moira looked around the cabin, her appetite for the midday meal gone. She swallowed as she considered what Kyle had said, and also what had been left unsaid. She knew he’d been intentionally mean out of spite, but she couldn’t wholly disagree with him. Feeling dejected, Moira went to the corner willingly. She knew it would likely be hours before Kyle returned. She could have stayed on the bed and run to the corner when she heard the key in the lock. But she’d let him down enough times already.
The least I can do is have a little honor and take the punishment I earned. What was I thinking? I’ve never thrown anything at anyone out of anger. Why would I test him like that?
Moira sighed as she lowered herself to the deck and inched closer to the corner. She closed her eyes and wondered what had become of her life. She was too tired to fight Kyle. It was getting her nowhere, and it was only widening the chasm between them. He’d told her that he wanted to care f
or her, and she realized this was the only way he knew how. He ordered her to remain out of the way to protect her, not punish her. The consequences she received were from her actions, not his intentions.
Bluidy bleeding hell. Shut your gob, Moira. You’ve got the brass balls of a Lombard. Why are you being so uncooperative and unreasonable? I’m not even negotiating like a bluidy pawner. I’m just digging my heels in. And a load of good it’s doing me. You can’t have it both ways, Moira. Either you’re willing to accept Kyle’s rules and submit, or you need him to drop you ashore. I’d rather submit than be alone, even if he took me to the O’Driscolls or the MacNeils. Just keep your neb out of trouble and keep quiet.
Moira shifted on her knees as she slowly exhaled. She resolved to make peace. Even if she didn’t trust Kyle with all of her secrets, her belligerence was getting her nowhere. Waging war with Kyle on his ship was foolish and pointless, and Moira accepted it as the uneven wood bit into her knees.
“She’ll be the death of you,” Tomas chuckled as he handed Kyle a jug of whisky. The brisk air called for a nip or two to keep the blood pumping after hours in the bracing wind.
“But what a sweet way to go,” Kyle grinned. He thought back to when they returned to the cabin after her debut in only a leine. He considered Moira’s earnestness when she asked how she could convince him to return to his term of endearment. He hadn’t noticed that he’d called her “sweet one” the first couple of times, but once he did, he decided it fit—at least until her little stunt the morning she came above deck in just a leine. He scowled as he thought about the sight his men had received. He trusted most of them to have the sense to look but not touch, but there were a few men on his crew that he barely trusted not to knife him, never mind leave Moira alone.
Since leaving her kneeling in the corner, Kyle had tiptoed along the passageway thrice already that day to put his ear to his door. He heard no movement, so he suspected that Moira was still kneeling in the corner, asleep on the floor or his bed, or had found amusement looking at his maps and books. Until he returned, he could accept any of them, since it kept her out of trouble.
“You haven’t suggested setting her ashore,” Tomas pointed out. “You’ve mentioned nothing about ransoming her. And I’m certain you won’t set her adrift.”
“Keith and I don’t attack women.”
“True enough. But I think you might have considered tossing her over before she called you out. It was over then.”
“It was over before that,” Kyle confided to his first mate. He told Tomas almost as much as he did Keith, but never everything. But this he would confess. “I recognized her the moment I saw her. She didn’t have to say anything.”
“So you wouldn’t have let Snake Eye throw her overboard?”
“No. I wouldn’t have.”
“Did you plan to make her your mistress from the start?” Tomas cocked an eyebrow.
“It hasn’t gone well enough for her to agree, as she well reminded me. She’s an interesting set of contradictions,” Kyle pointed out.
“Maybe so. But when have you ever cared enough about a woman to figure them out?”
“I’m more intrigued than anything else.” Kyle had already confessed as much as he was willing, at least to Tomas. He would remain in control of the conversation, his feelings, his ship and, with a prayer, maybe even Moira. “She’s a puzzle to solve.”
“Och, aye. A puzzle. How much is there to figure out to get her to open her legs to you? She enjoyed what you were doing on the deck the other day.” At Kyle’s threatening glare, Tomas grinned and threw up his hands. “I’m not asking for a turn. Just making an observation, Capt’n.”
“Are the men saying anything about having a woman aboard?” Kyle wondered.
“Not yet. But I’m certain they will. If the rough seas continue, they’ll blame her. They didn’t blame her when it chucked it down. They claimed that was Ireland’s fault. But if an attack goes sour, they’ll blame her for that,” Tomas reasoned.
“Aye. And Keith has no idea she’s aboard. I haven’t talked to him about her yet.”
“He won’t step foot aboard!”
“He was the daft sod to fall in love with his captain’s mistress,” Kyle said with a shake of his head.
“Don’t let Caragh or Rowan hear you call her that. They prefer to forget those days. She’s Rowan’s wife now,” Tomas reminded.
“Don’t we all know it? And in all fairness, he wasn’t in love—or even in lust—but he liked Caragh. Who doesn’t?”
“I can think of someone,” Tomas grunted.
“But Alane brought her own death upon herself. The crazy bitch got what she deserved. She’s lucky Rowan didn’t do worse.”
“From what Keith’s told, I’d say we were lucky not to see Caragh in that condition. I can’t imagine how such a wee thing survived that beating.” Tomas shook his head before looking back at the ladder well, then at the sky. “She’s been down there quite some time. Do you think she’s still kneeling?”
“Probably not. But neither is she causing mischief. Likely sitting on her bum or sleeping. She’ll be the way I left her as soon as she hears the key in the lock,” Kyle assured.
“You never know. Your cabin could be in shambles for all you know. For a woman who appeared so meek the few times I caught sight of her at Dunluce, she’s a termagant now.”
“I doubt that’s anything new. She just never showed it around her brother,” Kyle mused.
“Then she really must trust you. A bit daft, is she?” Tomas grinned.
Kyle scowled before shoving the whisky jug against Tomas’s chest. He left Tomas once more to steer the ship as he made his way down to Moira. Just as he had every time he checked on her, he put his ear to the door. He heard nothing from within, so he eased the key into the lock and slowly opened the door a crack. He peered in and found Moira sitting on her heels with her forehead against the wall. Fear that she was in pain like the first night she was aboard made him kick the door closed as he hurried across the cabin.
Eleven
Moira stirred at the sound of the door slamming shut. She lifted her head and blinked as she pushed hair out of her eyes. She turned at the sound of someone else in the cabin, her eyes rounding when she took in Kyle’s horrified expression. She quickly adjusted her position to kneel without resting on her heels, her hands behind her back, and her chin tucked. She closed her eyes, waiting for the scolding she believed was inevitable.
“Are you all right?” Kyle asked as he helped her up. “Are you sick?”
“No,” Moira answered, her brow furrowed. Yet again, she didn’t understand Kyle. Her brother and Lizzie, even Aidan, were straightforward. She could read their thoughts and emotions as clearly as if they spoke them. Kyle kept her befuddled.
“You were leaning against the wall. Not sitting or resting against it. Your forehead was against it,” Kyle stated.
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I didn’t realize I had,” Moira apologized. “I remember leaning forward to rest for a moment, then you were coming in.”
“You stayed kneeling this whole time?”
Moira looked sheepishly at him. “I sat down twice, but each time I heard you at the door, I didn’t—”
“Didn’t what, Moira?” Kyle demanded. Her eyebrows shot up at his tone. But he wanted to know what she’d been up to, how she thought to manipulate him.
“I didn’t want to disappoint you again.”
Kyle didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone worried about disappointing him. He supposed the only one who had was Keith. Maybe Ruairí. His men didn’t. They only cared that they did what he demanded, so he paid and fed them. He hadn’t believed she would really stay as he ordered. He’d even thought to find a delicious and lusty way to punish her.
“I left hours ago.” Kyle wrapped his plaid around Moira before he guided her over to the chair, then pulled her onto his lap. “Are you used to that? Does Dónal pu
nish you like that?”
Moira twisted to look at him. “No. And even if he did, I wouldn’t worry about disappointing him. I would have sat or even taken a nap on purpose if he’d doled out the punishment.”
“How do you know to put your hands behind your back and to lower your head? You’ve done it before.” Kyle demanded. Once more, Moira turned bewildered eyes toward him.
“I don’t know. It just seems like what I should do. I don’t really think about it.” Moira shrugged, growing uneasy by Kyle’s shifting mood. In that moment, she would have preferred Dónal and Lizzie’s predictable ones. Kyle’s scared her at times.
Kyle kissed Moira’s temple, sensing that he was making her uneasy in a way he didn’t intend. He wanted her to wonder what he would do next, but only when she was trying to predict what arousing punishment he would demand. Now that his earlier temper had settled, he didn’t want her to fear for her safety with him. Just the opposite.
“Did Aiden do anything to punish you?” Kyle prompted. Moira’s head would soon ache from how Kyle jumped from one topic to another, but she was beginning to get used to it.
“Do you mean did he hit me? No. Never. I think I relented because he was the only person who didn’t make me self-conscious. He never berated me or manhandled me like Dónal did. Going out riding and fishing meant I had a reprieve from the duties I carried all day, every day.”
“No, sweet one,” Kyle whispered. His heart thudded when Moira sighed and nestled closer to him. Two words made her relax. He’d never imagined that such could be the case. That what he could say, something so simple as a term of endearment, could make a woman trust him, make a woman submit to him. “I didn’t mean hit you. I will never do that. I will never spank you out of anger either.”
“What about my first night? Or when I came up on deck in the leine? Or when I threw the book at you? You seemed furious.”