by Pam Godwin
Across the room, Priest bent over the table, glaring at a plate of cut oranges.
Lounging idly around the cottage, Madwulf’s men talked amongst themselves, the din of their overlapping voices clustered with questions and speculation. With every second, the air thickened, filling with uncertainty. Madwulf watched it all with a calculating glint in his eyes.
I saw the moment Priest made a decision. The muscles in his beautiful face slackened. His shoulders relaxed, and he straightened.
“She took my father’s life and plundered his ship. My inheritance is gone.” He turned toward Madwulf. “I demand restitution from her. Following our agreement, I’ll kill her myself, but not before I exact my pound of flesh from her and her lover. Days, weeks… I want her to suffer for as long as possible.” He paused to draw a breath. “I’ll take both of them, a couple of horses, and find an isolated cottage farther up the coastline, where I can take my time fucking her to the point of death while her fine-mannered lord watches.”
“No.” Madwulf freed a dagger and proceeded to clean his nails with it. “The commodore is mine. I’ve been dreaming about his tears since the day he captured me.”
“No one touches him!” Horrified, I threw myself forward, jerking against the restraints. “If any of you so much as—”
Warm fingers curled around my mouth and shoved the neckerchief between my lips.
I glared up at Priest, and he glared back, wordlessly warning me he would do more than gag me if I had another outburst.
“You can have Edric’s daughter,” Madwulf said. “After the fellows and I take our turns with her. She was a real bitch when we met, and as it happens, we like them mouthy and kicking. Isn’t that right, lads?”
Whistles, stomping boots, and boisterous shouting erupted around the room.
Ice crystallized in my chest.
Priest clicked his tongue. “I’m not sticking my cock anywhere your diseased, unwashed pissers have been.”
Silence descended, constricting with unease. That was the thing about disease. When it attacked, it was one against all, and very few escaped. No one joked about it. No one uttered the word disease.
Except Priest.
“Pox on the lot of you. Her cunt is mine.” He strolled through the room, scratching his whiskered jaw. “You like a little fight in your women? Some fearful, virginal resistance? You’ll find that with any number of the daughters on this island.”
Oh, Jesus, Priest. Please, stop.
“I claimed the right to break this one when she killed my father.” He flung a scowl in my direction. “She’s my prize. And her lover, too. It’s a fair trade, Madwulf. If not for me, you would still be locked up on HMS Blitz.”
“If nae for my attack on HMS Ludwig,” Madwulf said, “she would still be in the admiral’s custody. The lads and I will be taking our turns with her. Then you can haul her anywhere you want on horseback. The commodore stays with us.”
Fear, cold and sharp, penetrated my gut and chilled me to the bone. I expected to see something similar materialize in Priest’s expression, but he remained calm. Confident.
He had a plan.
Some of the tension loosened in my shoulders.
“No.” He stalked across the room and lifted an object from a small table. “There’s only one way to settle this.”
“I’m listening.” Madwulf cocked his head.
“A game of chance.” He turned, holding an hourglass in his hand. “If I make her come on my finger before the sand runs out, I will fuck her first. If not…” He shrugged. “We’ll go with your terms.”
I will fuck her first.
A shiver of dread dragged down my spine.
Why had Priest phrased his conditions that way?
Fuck her first? That implied Madwulf and his mates would go next. Priest wouldn’t want that. He would cut off his own arms before he let that happen.
Given the banter of lewd comments and vulgar smiles around me, the pirates had interpreted Priest’s offer the same way I had. Worse, he hadn’t stipulated Ashley’s fate in his conditions.
My stomach dropped, and my breathing careened out of control. Amid my unfurling panic, Ashley’s hand strained in the restraints behind us until three of his fingers captured mine.
I squeezed back, hanging on. He was lending me his strength, letting me know he was here. It helped me to focus past the fear.
Whatever Priest was planning, it wouldn’t end with me being passed around to these scoundrels. I trusted that. I depended on his unwavering, overbearing possessiveness.
Madwulf rose from the chair and strolled toward Priest. “That hourglass measures ten minutes?”
Priest nodded, handing it to him.
“I dinna care how skillful you are with the lasses, libertine.” Madwulf cast a thoughtful look at the sand in the glass. “Ten minutes isn’t enough time to bring a woman to the acme of excitement.”
Priest could do it in two minutes. Under different circumstances.
He said nothing, waiting.
“She’ll fight you to the death before she surrenders.” The uncertainty in Madwulf’s eyes belied his smooth smile. “But it’ll be fun watching you try. If you fail, we go first. If you succeed, you fuck her in this room while we watch. Then we all get a piece.”
A muscle flexed in Priest’s jaw, and he gave a stiff nod.
Vicious chills attacked my circulation as excitement charged the air. A rippling current of hunger swept through the gathered men, intensifying with the tempo of their breaths.
“Lads?” Madwulf looked around. “Do we accept this proposal?”
A chorus of Aye’s rang out.
“She doesn’t leave the cottage until we’re all finished.” Madwulf lowered onto the chair closest to me and stretched out his legs. “Go on, then. Finger the cunt.”
My insides jumped as Priest approached. He wasn’t the only one who had to perform. Whether I faked this or truly surrendered, I would have to make a good show of it.
From Madwulf’s perspective, I didn’t have a stake in this wager. No matter who won, my outcome would be the same—rape, torture, death. If I looked like I was trying to help Priest win, the ruse would be over.
Damnation, I wasn’t on board with this. My body was already trembling, shaking the hell out of my clammy hands.
Ashley held on, his fingers repeatedly clenching and loosening around mine, telling me he was at my side. I didn’t know if his proximity would help or hinder my ability to perform. Guilt was already pressing in.
Priest knelt between my legs and gripped the backs of my thighs. My breath hitched.
Leaning around me, he glanced at my bound hands. Ashley didn’t release my fingers. Priest showed no reaction to it.
“Ready?” Madwulf balanced the hourglass on his thigh.
“Give me a second.” Priest scowled at him. “And stop talking, arsehole.”
Sounds of snickering wafted through the cottage.
I hated this. Hated every second that coiled my insides tighter and harder. I couldn’t breathe.
Priest sat back on his heels, hooked my legs around his waist, and lifted my thighs so that they rested atop his. Discreetly straightening the hem of my shirt, he kept me covered as he inched closer on his knees.
The position raised me higher up his muscled thighs until I straddled his lap. He kept an eye on my hands behind me, ensuring the rope didn’t tighten and dig into my wrists.
I was entirely at his mercy, with my legs spread around him and my arms bound. A month ago, I would’ve resented him for this. A month ago, he was the one in restraints. So much had changed since I’d last seen him, but the one true constant was and always would be his obsession with keeping me safe.
He softly glided his hands up my thighs, causing my breaths to quicken. Ashley squeezed my fingers and made a deep threatening noise in his throat. A sound meant for Priest’s ears only.
I couldn’t look at Ashley, couldn’t think about him if I wanted this to work. He
would die if Priest failed. I didn’t know what the plan was, but it obviously required Priest to fuck me first.
The shaking in my limbs worsened. I bit down on the gag and met his eyes, pleading, soundlessly screaming. For what I didn’t know.
Enforced contact with his masculine heat and chiseled physique softened me a little. But what if I couldn’t do this? What if he couldn’t make me come?
He leaned in between Ashley and me and put his mouth at my ear. “Relax.” A guttural whisper. “We’ve done this hundreds of times.”
Not with an audience. And certainly not with a protective lover trussed up beside me.
Hundreds of times. Confound it, Ashley had heard that. He didn’t react, didn’t move a muscle, but his ear was right next to mine. He now knew that Priest and I had shared much more than one night together.
But one thing I could count on was Ashley’s unnatural ability to only show the face he wanted people to see. No one in this room would guess what he was feeling or thinking. Or hearing.
I gave his fingers a hard hug with mine, and he squeezed back.
“Time starts now.” Madwulf tipped the hourglass.
Ten minutes. I drew in a breath and stared into the molten silver of Priest’s stunning eyes.
Never had there been a pirate more gorgeous or seductively built than him. He exemplified manly beauty and virility. Staring at him this close, I was immediately overcome, shook to my soul with love and longing.
Hypnotized, I lost myself in our connection, sinking fast and deep into the mystical alchemy that bound us together so intensely.
Light fingertips tickled between my legs, stirring nerve endings. Calloused fingers. Familiar. Comforting.
“One finger.” Madwulf’s brogue broke through the spell, tensing my spine. “And I require proof of her lust.”
“Every time you speak,” Priest snarled over his shoulder, “the sand begins anew. Start it over!”
“Fine.” Madwulf reset the hourglass. “Carry on.”
Sweat slicked my hands. Ashley’s sweat? Mine? We were both perspiring in the clasp of our entwined fingers, the tension unbearable.
Priest set his mouth on my jaw, breathing easily, patiently, as his finger slid along the slit between my legs.
I felt dry down there. Perhaps too dehydrated to produce natural lubricant. But for Priest to succeed, it wouldn’t be the physical pleasure that sent me over. It would be our emotional connection. I needed him on that level more than any other.
So I focused on his dependable gaze, on the thoughts he couldn’t voice that swirled so turbulently in those eyes. He penetrated me completely, without so much as the tip of his finger in my body.
He penetrated me with his adoration, the force of his steadfast tenacity.
He’d been inside me for three years, stretching out, rearranging things, and making a home for himself. He was stronger than my heart, bigger than my soul, and more powerful than my mind. He symbolized the deepest level of love. Not because he was kneeling beneath me and fingering my cunt, but because he never gave up on me.
I knew he would find me. Never doubted it. I shouldn’t have run from him two years ago. I’d been too narrow-minded, too narrow-hearted to hear him, to understand his tragedy in loving two people.
I’d been wrong.
His finger circled my center, never dipping, never entering. The motion was exquisite, overwhelmingly tender, lulling me under his sensual spell.
The heat of his body made my breaths tumble, and his heavenly scent wrapped me in memories of home. My home on Jade, surrounded by the sun and sea, with Priest at my side and the aroma of his skin in my lungs—hot and male, leather and sin, everything I craved—imprisoning my senses, possessing me.
He owned me, and he proved it with a single finger as it descended upon my clitoris. His caress enveloped the erectile bud with perfect pressure, diabolical warmth, and uncanny rhythm. Every particle of my being gravitated to him, captivated.
I imagined us together on another plane, in a different realm, united, intertwined, untouchable. Safe. I yearned for the feel of his lips, the beat of his heart, and the security of his arms around me. But I couldn’t have those things. Not here, where I played the part of a woman paying the price for killing his father.
How much time was left?
My gaze drifted toward Madwulf, but Priest grabbed my throat, forcing my eyes to his.
“Give me your come, Bennett.” He rubbed his finger through my growing slickness, arousing and stimulating my body with extraordinary mastery.
But it was that raw, devoted gaze that held me immobile. He loved me with an intensity and forcefulness that ruled him. It was there in his eyes—his instinctual attraction to me, selfless affection, and divine magnetism that went beyond science and nature.
His love was the impetus that opened me to his touch, relaxed me in a way I didn’t think possible. I felt the give in my body, the languid loosening of inner muscles beneath the strong, deep throb of desire. A rush of heat rolled forth, my cunt clenching and sucking to be filled and satisfied.
If he were to sink his finger in now, he would find all the drenched proof he needed. But he stayed with my clitoris, working it into a swollen, thrumming knot.
I hovered on the edge, rising, trembling, panting, rocking against his hand, and chasing the high. I couldn’t quite get to the ultimate peak. I was close enough to feel the shimmering edges of it, but relief danced just beyond reach.
“Bennett,” Priest breathed against the gag in my mouth. “The commodore has a rather large erection in his breeches.”
Unbidden, I moaned at the mental image, my attention turning to Ashley. I didn’t look at him, but my God, I heard him.
His shallow breaths seethed past the cloth in his mouth. At first, I thought it was rage. But after a closer listen, I detected a low, nearly imperceptible groan. A hungry, continuous groan. It didn’t make sense.
Except it did. He understood the stakes, knew I had to achieve climax, and sensed I was close. He was feeding off my arousal and growing hard because he was in this with me, joining the fight instead of fighting against me.
I rebounded off that knowledge, imagining him stiff and engorged in his breeches. Another swamp of heat flooded between my legs.
Priest slid his finger downward and hooked the tip just inside. From there, he slowly circled the sensitive inner rim of my opening, stirring, escalating the hum of sensations. I felt my arousal dribble out, and Christ almighty, it turned me on knowing he felt it, too.
Like a cable pulling too taut, the pressure inside me snapped, shattered, and came crashing down in a glittering shower of star-shine. I threw my head back and moaned as loud as I could past the rag.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered, his finger swirling lazily, stroking me through the twitching, muscle-heating spasms.
His arm supported my back as I sagged, the hand between my leg still concealed by the shirt. Did we do it in time? My gaze shot to the hourglass on Madwulf’s thigh.
Only half the sand had trickled through.
Five minutes.
If Priest wasn’t a god, he was damn near close. The entire room held its breath, waiting for proof. No believers here?
“Forgive me for this.” Priest moved his mouth against my ear in a hush. “And for everything that comes next.”
I’d already forgiven him, but his words made me tense.
He pushed his finger all the way inside me, collecting my arousal as it leaked out over his knuckle. Then he shoved me off his lap as if he couldn’t stand the sight of me.
I fell against Ashley, the rope tearing into my wrists. With a furious yelp around the gag, I twisted and jerked into a better position, hoping my drama appeared genuine.
No one paid attention, for every head in the room tracked Priest as he approached their captain. Extending his soaked finger, he held it out for Madwulf’s inspection.
Madwulf straightened in the chair and gripped Priest’s wrist. He e
xamined every finger, confirming that only one had been used, which was undeniably coated in the slippery white proof of my release.
Then he took it a step further and brought it to his nose, inhaling the scent.
Depraved goddamned animal.
“Unbelievable.” Madwulf laughed and shoved Priest’s hand away. “As a man who’s known for his sexual prowess, I daresay you’ve earned the reputation, king of libertines.”
He laughed some more, roaring manically as his men joined in.
My hackles bristled, and old resentment rose to the surface. Priest had been with more women than I cared to estimate, but it didn’t matter. Not here. Not ever again.
“I want that bed,” Priest barked over the commotion and pointed at the small mattress in the corner of the cottage.
There were four beds in total, but the shadows attached themselves to that one, for it was the farthest away from the windows and the congregation of pirates.
Priest turned back to me, stepped over my legs, and crouched before Ashley.
My heart hammered as they stared at each other for a timeless span. I couldn’t read either expression, which only heightened my panic.
“I want the truth.” Priest grabbed a fistful of black hair and wrenched Ashley’s head backward, glowering with a viciousness that scorched. “Do you love her?”
My pulse roared. My teeth sawed against the gag, and my hands wrung in the rope.
Ashley’s face remained empty, calm, fearless, making Priest wait before he contemptuously thrust his chin up then down, his gaze hardening with a challenging, resounding Yes.
Priest released him and stepped back, his carriage taut and rigid as he turned to his audience.
“You want to see what happens when someone wrongs me?” His hands went to his many belts, removing weapons. “Put them both on the bed.”
After some shuffling—with Ashley and me fighting through every bruising shove—Madwulf’s scoundrels succeeded in putting us on the bed. There were too many hands, too many zealous touches, making my skin shudder. All the while, Priest stood off to the side, instructing them on how to position us.