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

by Celeste Barclay

  “Which—which way?” Moira stuttered.

  “Your cunny for that.”

  “What else do you imagine?” Moira swallowed.

  “Stretching you on the table, arms and legs bound to the table legs. I wish for you to wear the clamps while plugged.” Kyle watched as Moira’s brow creased before she nodded her head in understanding. “The other item I haven’t shown you are a set of small marble balls. They are called ben wa balls, and they come from the Orient, where women carry them within their quim. I would place them inside you, punishing you if they should slip loose. I wish to watch you on the table as you wonder when I will touch you.”

  “What would you do?” Moira shuddered as she reached for Kyle’s hand. “Capt’n, will you please touch me while you tell me?”

  Kyle’s fingers slid inside Moira’s drenched channel. The sound of her sigh made his cock swell. His thumb rubbed slow circles over her bud as he continued to share his intimate imaginings. “I would sit between your legs and suck your nub over and over until you’re breathless, pulling away just before you climax. I’d taunt you until you’re ready to use your safe word. Then I would draw from you the most powerful release you’ve ever had before taking the balls from you and thrusting into you over and over. God, how I want to pound into you, making you scream in pain and pleasure until I spill inside you.”

  Moira’s hands pressed Kyle’s against her mound, encouraging him to add more fingers. “May I?” Moira panted.

  “Aye, sweet one,” Kyle growled. She strained to find just the movement against Kyle’s hand that she needed. But no matter how she moved, tensed or relaxed, the pleasure remained elusive. She whimpered with frustration as her eyes pleaded with Kyle. “What do you need, mo ghràidh? Do you need my cock?”

  “Yes,” Moira wailed as she threw her head back and squeezed her eyes shut. She writhed at Kyle’s touch. She fisted the sheets as he withdrew his fingers, waiting for the feel of his cock. With her legs splayed wide, Kyle thrust into her. On a hissing breath, Moira muttered, “Fuck.”

  “That is exactly what I shall do to you, sweet one. Over and over until you can’t see straight, until all you can think about is the next time I'll be inside you, the next time you’ll feel me in command of you and your pleasure.” Kyle punctuated each word with a thrust.

  “Anything, Kyle. Do what you want, just stay inside me,” Moira babbled, nearly insensate. They met each thrust with moans until tears streamed down Moira’s cheeks. She felt them falling but couldn’t understand why, when she wasn’t sad or hurt. She was just overwhelmed by a need to submit to Kyle and the force he used to pound into her. His aggression only heightened her arousal. She’d never felt so needed and wanted in all her life. As Kyle whispered words of encouragement, promises of the other things he would do to her, his demands for her to submit, she wanted nothing more than to belong to Kyle. There wasn’t anything she would have denied him in that moment, and she suspected that even in the calmest of times, there was little that she would refuse.

  As she flew over the precipice, she gripped Kyle’s arms, her fingers biting into the muscle. Her entire frame shook as the waves of euphoria crashed over her. But when he made to withdraw, she cried out, “Stay.”

  “Are you sure,” Kyle panted. “And if you don’t find the plant?”

  “Stay,” Moira repeated. “Just this once. I know the risk. I need you.”

  Kyle slid his arms beneath Moira’s shoulders and brought their foreheads together. “I need you. I need to be inside you. You’re mine, Moira, even if it’s only for a moment. I want nothing between us.” Kyle shuddered as his seed jetted from him. He knew he’d made a grave error, but he didn’t regret it, at least not yet. As much as he claimed Moira by possibly planting his seed, she had claimed him. He’d never spilled inside a woman as he just had. Their father abandoned Kyle and Keith, and both men had sworn never to sire a bastard who they might unintentionally abandon. But this time, he’d given, and Moira had taken.

  Moira watched Kyle as he struggled to catch his breath. She watched while he was deep in thought, but when he eased his body onto hers, he let her bear the full weight. She could tell he was hesitant until she allowed it. She felt the tension ease from him, and she suspected it was the first time Kyle ever gave himself permission to let down his guard. She stroked his back, crooning nonsense to him.

  “Will you let me hold you?” Moira whispered.

  “God, yes. Don’t let go, Moira,” Kyle shuddered before kissing Moira’s shoulder. “Moira, I’m yours for as long as you want me.” Kyle whispered his promise. The only time he’d given a pledge that carried more significance was when he and Keith were seven and swore they would kill before anyone separated them. He recalled the intensity of that feeling as if he were that child again. How he felt in Moira’s arms mirrored it.

  How the fuck can I need a woman I’ve known for a sennight? Why am I so vulnerable to her? What the devil is happening to me? She could knife me in the back right this very moment. She could kill me in my sleep. My heart has been dead for years, yet it suddenly feels like it will beat out of my chest just to be near her. I’m a bluidy fool. I’d do well to keep my heart guarded before I go and do something stupid like give it to her. She will leave someday. Everyone does. And she’ll take my heart with her if I’m not careful. I’ll give her my body, my protection, and my trust, but I draw the line at my heart.

  Kyle rolled onto his back, making sure he was on the edge of the bed before he drew Moira closer, draping her arm over his ribs as her head rested on his chest.

  “Don’t break my heart,” Moira said as she drifted to sleep. Kyle held her as he closed his eyes.

  I pray the same.

  Seventeen

  Moira sat in the dinghy beside Kyle as it drew closer to the shore. She still wanted to search for the pennyroyal, but Kyle warned her that the land where they would go looking was O’Malley land. She watched Snake Eye row while Tomas braced himself in the bow, a crossbow in his arms. Kyle had insisted that both men come ashore with them, initially suggesting he bring more of the crew. When she smiled at him as though to indulge his moodiness, he’d carried her back to the cabin and laid her over his lap. As she sat in the rowboat, she recalled what he’d said.

  “Do not ever give me that patronizing smile as though my concern for you is ridiculous. I am not some child you must mollify or spoil. I will do whatever I think is needed to keep you safe. Never question me again about your protection, with your words or your mocking smile. Do you understand me?”

  Moira shifted on the bench, her bottom still stinging. She’d been guilty of his accusation. She’d thought to just go along with him but hadn’t taken him seriously. She realized as his hand landed against her stinging flesh over and over that he’d been right. She didn’t know the dangers they might face on O’Malley land. She had treated him as a child, and her expression had been patronizing. When she went limp across his lap, Kyle had ceased the spanking. He’d leaned over and kissed her inflamed skin before massaging away some of the burn. She’d apologized throughout the spanking, but she was determined to show her contrition.

  When he released her, Moira knelt between Kyle’s thighs, her hands behind her back, gazed lowered. She’d asked to show her remorse by offering her thanks for his thoughtfulness. She’d relished the feel of him in her mouth, each groan a symphony to her ears. When he pulled free, she kept her mouth open, accepting the spray as it landed on her tongue, against her chin, and across her chest. She’d remained kneeling until after Kyle wiped her clean. Their passionate kiss threatened to delay them further.

  “I will ease your discomfort when we return to the cabin,” Kyle whispered. Moira glanced up at him and realized that he was earnest. There was no teasing or lust in his eyes.

  “Thank you,” Moira responded. Kyle wrapped his arm around her shoulders, buffering the wind at their backs. She leaned against him and closed her eyes against the damp air.

  Would that he always lo
oked after me. No one since Mother has worried about me.

  “When we reach the sand, stay near me at all times. If you see what you need, tell me, and we go together. Snake Eye will remain with the boat and warn us if anyone approaches from the water or the beach. Tomas will follow behind us to ensure no one sneaks up on us. You walk to my left, so I can hold my sword in my right.”

  “Yes, Kyle,” Moira mumbled as he tightened his hold, and she sighed. As her hands rested in her lap, she had a moment’s temptation to cover her belly with them. She knew there was the chance that their bairn was already growing within her. She debated whether she wanted to find the pennyroyal after all. Even if Kyle tired of her, she would have something to love and remind her of their time together. But her mind flashed to Sean and the inevitable hardships he faced as a bastard. She considered the years he’d spent without a father. Even when Aidan visited, he was barely a paternal figure, teaching his son to swear and sing bawdy tunes. Could she go through life lying and saying she was a widow? More importantly, could she leave Kyle and never tell him he had a child? She knew she couldn’t, and he’d already said he wouldn’t abandon a child. He would never let her go if he knew.

  “Second thoughts about finding the pennyroyal?” Kyle asked as though he read her mind. Moira nodded, unwilling to lie to him even if she’d just considered doing that very thing. “Wheest, sweet one. Maybe there will come a day when you will have a child, maybe even ours. Collect your flowers or leaves, and we can decide what comes next when we need to.”

  Moira shook her head against his chest before looking up at him. “If I wait to know whether I need the tea after last night, then I won’t be able to go through with drinking it. If I’m going to, then I must do it within the next few days.” Moira glanced at Snake Eye and Tomas, who studiously ignored them, even though Moira suspected their voices carried. “Can we decide once we return to the Lady Charity? When we can talk more?”

  “Of course, sweet one,” Kyle said as he kissed her crown.

  “Are there any other medicinals you would have me collect? Yarrow? Willow bark? Chamomile? Angelica?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know what the last two do, but the first two would help with any wounds. If you find them, then I suppose so,” Kyle said with a shrug. “As long as there are no threats, you can search for what you need.”

  “Thank you, Kyle.” Moira moved to kiss his cheek when she realized what she was doing. Her eyes darted to the other men as she shrank away in horror. Kyle’s powerful hand shot out and grasped her jaw, but his touch was gentle as he turned her head toward him. He lowered his mouth to hers, pausing just before their lips met.

  “In front of Tomas and Snake Eye, you need not hold back.” Kyle’s mouth fused with hers, his tongue sliding between her lips until it dueled with hers. All too soon for either of their tastes, the bow ran aground. Tomas hopped into the surf as Snake Eye pulled in the oars. Kyle lifted Moira onto the shore, keeping her from soaking her boots or the cloak she’d retrieved when he returned her sack.

  Walking silently, Tomas led the way up the path. Moira watched Kyle, who walked beside her as his gaze swept back and forth. She suspected Tomas did the same. She glanced down at where Snake Eye stood beside the dinghy. His sword rested against his legs, crossed at the ankles, his arms folded across his chest. When they reached the meadow, Moira scanned the land in front of her. She squeezed Kyle’s forearm and pointed to a patch of purple flowers and nodded. She didn’t dare speak, afraid her voice would carry more than it had while they approached the beach. Kyle gestured to Tomas, who moved behind them. Moira glanced back to see Tomas walking backwards, the crossbow loaded and raised should he need it at a moment’s notice.

  Moira worked quickly, a prickle of fear making the hair on her nape stand on end. She pulled as much pennyroyal as she could find, bringing a smirk to Kyle’s face. She returned it with a scowl of her own before searching for the yarrow. She found that and angelica, but there were no willow trees in sight. Neither could she find chamomile. She prayed the pennyroyal worked, and she wouldn’t need the chamomile to settle her stomach or help her sleep.

  It was midmorning by the time Moira finished. She gestured to Kyle that she had all that she needed, lifting the full basket. He made as if to lift it from her arms, but she shook her head. She stepped close enough to keep her voice low.

  “I don’t want it in your way if you must swing your sword. If you carry it on your left arm, and I’m to your left, I’ll trip when you drop it. If I carry it, I can throw it clear of both of us and Tomas.”

  “Wise, sweet one,” Kyle said. The pride in his gaze warmed Moira, and she realized she desperately wanted to bring that expression to Kyle’s eyes. They hurried across the meadow and wound their way down to the beach. Kyle lifted Moira back into the boat before he helped Tomas push it back into the surf. The men boarded, and Snake Eye spun it to face the Lady Charity.

  Moira strained to listen, certain she heard voices. She looked around, but a heavy fog was gathering over the water. She had no way of knowing how far away the voices were. They might have come from land or either of the ships. She looked up at Kyle, who nodded while putting a finger to his lips. She swallowed, knowing that whoever she and Kyle heard was a foe, not a friend. She glanced at the beach again, but nothing appeared to move. She watched Snake Eye strain as he hurried to row them back to the Lady Charity. When she could no longer hear any voices, the sound of the oars dropping into the water screamed in her ears.

  When they reached the ship, a ladder and a rope flew over the rail. Kyle made quick work of tying the basket to the rope. A deckhand pulled the basket up as Moira rushed to scale the ladder. Braedon helped her over the rail, Kyle and the other two men swinging over the rail moments after her.

  “Go to our cabin, now,” Kyle ordered. Moira nodded and rushed toward the ladder well. Yells and the sound of steel against steel rang from the Lady Grace. Moira froze and looked in the other ship’s direction, but she could see nothing. The fog was like a white sheet draped over everything in sight. Kyle bellowed, “Go!”

  Moira looked back as Kyle yelled to her, but it was too late. A grappling hook landed on the deck to her left, and she heard the scraping sound as someone pulled it back to the rail where it was embedded in the wood bulkhead. Men suddenly poured over the sides. She watched as Kyle sprinted toward her, but two men stepped in his path. His gaze flew to her before they forced him to concentrate on the fight in front of him.

  “My lady, can you climb the mast?” Braedon appeared at her side. “They’ll check the cabins and the hold if they can. But they won’t think to look for you up above.”

  “Who are they?” Moira asked, but she already knew the answer. Her stomach flipped when Braedon confirmed her fears.

  “O’Malleys. You must hurry, my lady. Now.”

  Moira dropped the basket and followed Braedon to the center mast. She looked up the pole and reminded herself of all the trees she’d climbed as a child. As she reached for the wooden post, a voice drifted toward her that made her blood run cold.

  “There’s the bitch. She’ll be in my bed by tonight,” Dermot O’Malley bellowed. Moira looked over her shoulder to spot a man that made her knees clap together. Pox scars riddled his face, one of his top front teeth was jaggedly broken, and blood dripped from his sword. Moira glanced at the deck beside the ogre and saw that the O’Malley had felled one of Kyle’s crew members. The sound of feet running toward her snapped her out of her stupor. She searched for Kyle and found him battling an enormous mountain of a man, but he glanced at her several times. Close to him, Tomas fought, blood dripping from his thigh. She couldn’t see Snake Eye.

  The O’Malleys were too close for Moira to attempt climbing the mainmast. She tugged at the clasp to the cloak and let it fly away from her as she sprinted to the bow. Using her small stature to her advantage, she wove among the men, forcing her pursuers to go around or push obstacles from their path. She bound up to the forecastle deck where s
he’d once stood watching the sea. She continued until she could leap toward the bowsprit. Since they weren’t underway, most of the sails were furled. She hoisted herself onto the beam and inched along until she passed where the forestay sail would have hung. She eased her way toward the flying jib, which positioned her over the water.

  Without looking back, she dove toward the water. Landing in the sea felt like she hit a brick wall, the freezing temperature threatening to steal the breath from her lungs. Her boots filled with water as she fought to swim toward the surface. Despite the leaden feel of her shoes, she kicked and circled her arms as she moved away from the Lady Charity. When she couldn’t remain under the water for another moment, her head broke the surface. She looked around, praying that she still pointed toward the shore. The heavy fog made the Lady Charity and the Lady Grace invisible, even as she heard the fighting continue.

  “Moira!”

  Kyle’s voice rang across the noisy air, the desperation piercing her soul. But she knew she couldn’t call back to him. If she did, her attempt at escape would be wasted. She heard smaller boats bobbing in the water, and she couldn’t be certain how close they were. She longed to reassure Kyle that she was safe, but she knew she couldn’t because she didn’t know if she was. With the battle to her back, Moira fought the current as she made for the shore.

  “The bitch jumped,” Dermot’s voice carried. “Find her.”

  Oh, bluidy hell.

  Moira heard oars slap the water as she dove back under the waves, the churning sea fighting her. But she found it easier to swim under the surface than battle the waves crashing over her. She surfaced only when she couldn’t manage another stroke without gasping for air. A powerful wave pushed her toward shore. Unprepared for its strength and unable to see a foot in front of her, Moira slammed into the jagged rocks, a protruding corner slicing her forehead. The water tried to suck her back, but just as soon as it seemed to capture her it propelled her into the rocks again. Moira’s head bounced off a rock, and stars danced before her eyes as she fought off the blackness at the edges of her vision.