Moira knew nothing about wielding a sword despite her childhood attempt. She wondered if Kyle would teach her—or maybe let Snake Eye, who apparently trained the men. She nearly laughed aloud as she pictured his reaction to such a request. She turned her attention back to Braedon as he moved toward the aft. He pointed out the mizzen and jib, which she already knew, but happily smiled as he explained the various sections of the deck. When he suggested he give her a tour of the lower deck, she shook her head.
“I don’t want to keep you from your work, Braedon. And I’d like to enjoy the fresh air a little longer.” Moira remembered Kyle’s warning. She did not want to tempt fate nor anger Kyle. Neither were worth the possible outcomes.
“Aye. Well, I should make my way back up to the crow’s nest. I’ll never understand why I’m known as a barrel man when I spend my time in a nest. Birdman might suit better,” Braedon mused. Moira bit her tongue so hard it stung, but it kept her from pointing out that his nest was made from a cut-down barrel. She watched as he scampered up the main mast and into his perch. She looked around once more, but jumped when Tomas came to stand beside her. The weathered sailor wasn’t as old as he looked once he stood near her. His sun-leathered face had wrinkles around his eyes and mouth from smiling. She’d initially assumed it was from squinting against the sun and scowling, but she’d seen him smile each time they’d encountered one another.
“Capt’n would like to see you,” Tomas stated. Moira nodded her thanks and made her way to the wheel.
“That was short,” Kyle murmured as Moira came to stand beside him.
“Braedon told me a wonderful story about Senga and Ruairí sparring on deck and how Senga taught him to fight. He pointed out the parts of the deck and sails, but I admit I already knew as much. He suggested showing me the lower deck, but I declined. I didn’t think that would be wise,” Moira admitted.
“Thank you.”
Moira was unprepared for the simple phrase. She waited for Kyle to say more, but when he didn’t, she remained quiet. Moira soon grew uncomfortable with the silence. It was as if there was far more to say, but neither knew how to voice it. She pointed over her shoulder toward the rail and looked back before raising her eyebrows in question. Kyle nodded his permission, so Moira went to watch the open sea. She couldn’t see anything more than the hazy outline of land, but she knew they continued south since it was on their starboard side. She recalled Kyle saying that his brother’s ship, the Lady Grace, was to their starboard. She leaned over the rail and looked back, spotting the other pirate ship. She’d spent many hours in Kyle’s cabin, so she wondered if he’d told his brother she was aboard.
When she watched a red-headed man storm to the prow and glare at her, she was certain Kyle hadn’t spoken to his brother. A whistle pierced the air from the Lady Grace, and Moira bit the corner of her lip as she glanced back at Kyle. Shooting one more look at the Lady Grace’s angry captain, she returned to Kyle’s side.
“I don’t think your brother is happy to have spied me. I didn’t think about whether you’d told him until after he and I spotted one another. I’m sorry. Mayhap you didn’t want him to know,” Moira confessed. Kyle pulled her against his side and wrapped his arm around her.
“Worry not, sweet one. Keith doesn’t care for women aboard ship, but that’s fine since this isn’t his ship. He can do as he pleases aboard his own.”
“I don’t want to cause problems between you two,” Moira worried.
“You won’t, Moira. Dinna fash.”
Moira’s toes curled in her boots, just as they did every time Kyle’s brogue slipped through. It wrapped around her like the warmest sealskin cloak in the dead of winter and warmed her more than the finest Irish whiskey. Kyle ordered the mainsail lowered to half, slowing their ship and allowing the Lady Grace to pull alongside.
“Should I go below?” Moira whispered.
“Not yet. Keith will join us in my cabin,” Kyle explained. Moira watched as a rope landed on the Lady Charity’s deck, and a crewman quickly leashed the boats together while men on each ship dropped anchor. Keith swung across the rails on another rope and landed agilely, taking his first step just as both feet touched the ground. Moira hadn’t feared any of Kyle’s men, but Keith’s murderous glare made her want to hide behind Kyle. “Wheest, sweet one. He won’t do anything. His ire is directed at me, not you. Stand tall as you did before. Make me proud again. His crew and mine are watching.”
Moira swallowed, shoving her timidity to the bottom of her stomach and rallying as she watched Keith approach with feigned disinterest. She was the daughter of a chieftain, and more regrettably, the sister of one. She could pretend the haughtiness she was truly entitled to. Kyle shifted positions, so Moira stood to his left before he extended his right arm to his brother. They grasped forearms before pulling one another into a loose embrace.
Moira watched, puzzled. They acted as though they hadn’t seen each other in ages, but she suspected it had been perhaps a day since they talked. She realized the twins were closer than she imagined. She feared it boded ill for her if Keith was so displeased with her presence. She prepared herself for when he would insist Kyle put her ashore, or worse, adrift. She was certain Kyle would agree, so she accepted that her time with Kyle was over before it had a chance to truly begin.
“My cabin,” Kyle muttered. He signaled to Snake Eye, who came to take the wheel. Kyle kept his arm around Moira’s waist as they moved to the ladder well. He swung down first, then turned back to her. He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her down. Sliding her hand into his, he led the trio to his cabin. When they entered, Moira looked around, unsure of where she should stand or sit. She opted to move silently toward the corner where she’d been kneeling earlier, but Kyle’s single command to stop made her halt. She turned back to him, her eyes darting between the brothers. She had a momentary fear that they’d come below so they could each have a turn with her. Keith’s assessing, then appreciative gaze, told her he wouldn’t turn down the offer if it was made.
Thirteen
Kyle watched his brother as Keith openly admired Moira. The twins had shared everything since they were in the womb, and that often included the women they bedded. He’d never been possessive about anything when it came to Keith, and his brother had always been the same. He didn’t worry that Keith would begrudge him Moira’s company, but he also would make it clear that they’d finally found something that they wouldn’t both indulge in.
“Keith, this is Moira MacDonnell. Dónal’s sister,” Kyle announced with no preface. Moira startled, unprepared for Kyle to be so blunt, though she supposed it shouldn’t have surprised her.
“You mean Lizzie’s sister,” Keith grinned. Moira’s stomach roiled as she looked away. More than one man made the same assumption, but it was usually Lizzie’s tart words that disabused the men of the idea. When Kyle said nothing, Moira stepped forward. She didn’t understand what her role was, but Kyle had said she should stand tall, just as she had in front of his men. She decided that applied in the cabin as well. At least, for now.
“You know my sister?” Moira spoke up.
“By reputation,” Keith chortled.
“And I suppose you haven’t heard of mine,” Moira said archly. “Because they are not the same.” Her raised chin dared Keith to insinuate more.
“But your sister isn’t the one aboard a pirate ship, wearing a man’s clothes, or sleeping in my brother’s bed,” Keith pointed out.
“Who said I was sleeping there?” Moira flung back at Keith, accepting the challenge.
“Kitten’s got claws, Kyle. Has she been scratching your back?” Keith turned his taunts toward his brother, but he kept his eyes locked with Moira’s. They were an exact match for Kyle’s emerald orbs. Keith and Kyle were absolute mirror images of one another, Moira realized. Rowan and Ruairí looked tremendously alike, but Ruairí’s hair had always been a little longer and a little more sun-bleached than Rowan’s. There was virtually no way to tell
Keith and Kyle apart, at least not one that Moira noticed. She thought they even stood alike. If she hadn’t noticed where Kyle had come to a stop, from sight alone she wouldn’t be sure which man was the one she wanted to bed. But nothing about Keith’s demeanor drew her as Kyle did. Just the opposite. She found him immensely unappealing.
“Enough, Keith. Sit and let’s talk,” Kyle barked. He waved Moira over and nodded toward the bed. He took the seat closer to the bed while Keith sat across from him. Moira stepped wide of Keith as she went to sit on the bunk. “Moira was aboard the MacDonnell ship.”
“Quite the plunder,” Keith snickered.
“Enough, or you can go back to the Grace,” Kyle warned, and Keith sobered. Moira wanted to slide as far back on the bunk as she could, but instead, she sat with her legs hanging over the edge.
“Testy. She’s left you with blue bollocks, has she?” Keith glared at Moira.
“Keith, I’m not jesting. Leave the lass alone,” Kyle infused more steel into his voice. Keith cast an assessing look at Kyle before he nodded. Something passed between the brothers that seemed to call a truce, but Moira didn’t understand what. She barely had a civil relationship with either of her siblings, let alone one where they silently communicated anything but animosity.
“What else did you find onboard?” Keith asked.
“Barrels of whiskey, all Irish,” Kyle snorted, and Keith grimaced. Moira wanted to take umbrage, but she remained silent. She thought Irish whiskey was far better than the Scottish drink she’d tasted, but the two pirates clearly disagreed. “Wool, salt pork, and cheese.”
“That’s it?” Keith asked in disbelief. Moira struggled to keep her face impassive, knowing the cargo had barely been worth the raid. It wasn’t meant to be. Her clan’s council had loaded just enough to justify the voyage if anyone had stopped them before they sailed out of port. Keith narrowed his eyes at Moira. “Why?”
“The lass left home. The men were taking her south,” Kyle explained with a shrug, downplaying the little truth he knew. “I was still glad for the extra cargo.”
“Where were you going, lass?” Keith pressed.
“South. I don’t know what was supposed to happen,” Moira countered. She noticed Kyle stiffen, but he didn’t refute what she said, nor did he add to his brother’s questions.
“And where are you taking her now?” Keith shifted his attention back to Kyle, dismissing her.
“Wherever we sail,” Kyle said indifferently.
“No.”
Moira gulped as Keith’s face turned red enough to match his hair.
“I don’t tell you who can board your ship, Keith. You don’t tell me who may sail with me aboard mine. We sail together, but we are captain of our own ships and our own crews,” Kyle reminded him.
“Oh? Is she to be part of your crew now? I can imagine just how you put her to work,” Keith sneered.
“Out!” Kyle bellowed as he pushed back his chair and rose. Keith grunted and rose too, the brothers leaning toward one another. Moira shot off the end of the bed and stood beside Kyle. She didn’t dare touch him. She was uncertain how he might react or what Keith would read into it.
“Please, don’t,” Moira whispered to Kyle. “I should go before he does. Put me ashore, Kyle.”
“No,” Kyle hissed as he glanced down at her before locking gazes with Keith.
“Kyle, I’ll set myself adrift then,” Moira threatened.
“You will not. And now you have a spanking coming your way for suggesting something so daft. Sit down, Moira.”
“No,” Moira defied him.
“What?” Both men gawked.
“I may deserve a spanking for defying you,” Moira said softly, even though she knew Keith heard her. It was the most she could do to make her conversation with Kyle feel private. “But I won’t cause a rift between you two. It’s obvious how close you two are. I won’t be the cause of your relationship souring. I have a brother and a sister I detest. I left so I never have to lay eyes on either of them again. That doesn’t mean I wish that upon you. You’ll sail with Keith long after you tire of me. Set me adrift or set me ashore, but I’m just a passing distraction, Kyle. We both know that.”
Kyle didn’t take his eyes off Moira as he spoke to his brother, his voice calm once more. “Go back to the Lady Grace. I’ll speak to you this evening. There is something here that can’t remain unresolved.”
Keith sighed before he nodded. He let himself out of the cabin without Moira or Kyle looking in his direction. Kyle’s hands went to his hip as he stared at Moira. She didn’t know what to make of his expression, but she sighed as she reached down and tugged at her boots’ laces. She toed them off as she pulled her leine over her head and dropped it on the bed. She slipped out of her leggings and tossed them beside the shirt. She padded over to the table and pushed the stack of books aside before leaning over it. Her arms stretched out as she gripped each side of the table. With another sigh, she turned her head and rested her check on the surface before she closed her eyes. She listened to Kyle move behind her, but she gasped in shock when she felt the head of his cock slide across the seam of her entrance.
“You make a delicious sight. Maybe a spanking isn’t all you wish for. Is this what you want, Moira? Do you want a man inside you again?” Kyle’s voice rasped beside her cheek.
“You,” she croaked.
“You want me to fill your quim and ride you?”
“Yes. Please.” Moira cleared her throat. “Yes, please, Capt’n.”
“Do you think you deserve my cock, sweet one?”
“I don’t know, but I want it. I want you,” Moira confessed as she squeezed her eyes shut, hating the neediness in her voice.
“Should I give you what you want when you haven’t earned it? You’ve defied me twice today. You deserve two spankings. But maybe I will settle for one since you spent the morning in the corner.” The tip of Kyle’s cock slid past Moira’s nether lips, and she trembled. He nudged it forward just enough for the bulbous head to poke inside her. “Mayhap the better punishment would be to pound your cunny then find my release across your glorious little arse and leave your cunny starving for release.”
“That isn’t punishment, that’s torture,” Moira moaned. When Kyle made no move to enter her, Moira sighed before standing up. Surprised when she turned around, Kyle took a step back. “Kyle, my temper this morning deserved your ire and my punishment. I accept that. You know I even welcome the feel of your hand on me, and you know I wish to make recompense. I spoke out of turn with your brother—more than once. But I don’t regret what I said at the end. It may deserve punishment too, but I won’t come between you and your brother. Deny me what you want. Make me pay restitution as you want, but I feel no guilt and no remorse for speaking up. But this,” Moira moved her hand back and forth between their bodies. “If this is going to happen, please don’t use it as leverage or punishment. Not like our first time.”
“And if I wish to despite your pretty little speech?” Kyle asked as Moira watched him stroke himself.
“Then I can’t stop you. I won’t stop you. But you know my wishes now.”
Kyle took a step forward, pressing Moira back against the table. He pulled his leine off as he toed off his boots. His leggings followed as he stripped down. Moira watched at first, then tentatively reached out a hand and wrapped her fingers around his rod. She stroked him as she eased onto the table. She opened her legs in clear invitation, even tilting her hips so the tip of his cock once more grazed her entrance.
“And if my wish is to drive into you over and over, even spill my seed inside you, what would you say about that?”
“Before or after my spanking?” Moira purred, stroking him and rubbing herself against him.
“You would let me spill in you?” Kyle growled.
“I don’t think that would be wise. But could I stop you?” Moira cooed, but she gasped when Kyle pulled away.
“Yes, Moira. You can always stop me,” Kyle
stated. She sat blinking as she tried once more to follow his unpredictable moods. He ran his hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled. “My desire for you makes me act before thinking, sweet one. No one has ever made me do that.”
Kyle shook his head and held out his hand to Moira. She took it as she slid off the tabletop. He guided her to the bunk and pulled back the covers. She slipped into bed and watched as Kyle pulled the covers over her with a grimace before perching on the edge.
“If I can see your body, I won’t be able to keep from touching you. There is still much we need to establish between us before you become my mistress, if that’s what’s to happen.”
“Can we not speak about that afterward?” Moira tried not to whine, but she couldn’t help it. Her body ached with unspent lust again. She felt her temper rising as she was once more thwarted.
“We will surely speak about it afterward, but we shall also agree to some things now. If we can’t, then this goes no further,” Kyle warned. Moira puffed another sigh; her mouth pursed and her teeth gritted as she nodded. “I suspect there are times where I will wish to be gentle and slow with you, but this was—is—not one of them. I was prepared to be very rough with you, Moira. Push you in ways that your body is likely to rebel against in the beginning. But I won’t do that unless we both agree to it.”
“What did you want to do?” Moira whispered, trepidation and excitement warring within.
“I told you yesterday what I enjoy. I wish to wrap your hair around my hand and to keep you head pinned in the position I want, one that would allow me to kiss your neck, your throat, your mouth. I wish to spank you even as I plow you. I wish to use my size, both my body and my cock, to dominate you until you can’t decide if you’re begging me to stop or to keep going.”
Moira listened as her breathing became rapid and shallow, his words building the excitement that made her core burn with need. “Is it—is it domination if I’ve already submitted?” Moira wondered.
The Red Drifter of the Sea: A Steamy Opposites Attract Pirate Romance (Pirates of the Isles Book 3) Page 10
