Sea of Ruin

by Pam Godwin

  He was always in a state of hardness. The man had the appetite of a wolf in mating season.

  His hands roamed my hips, caressed upward, and encircled my bare breasts. While waiting for Ashley, we’d spent the past week in this cabin—in the bed, on the floor, against the wall, bent over the desk, rocking against any surface that would support us.

  I knew he was anxious about Ashley. But rather than talk about his nervous energy, he preferred to fuck it out of himself while between my legs. It was also his way of showing me his commitment. Not just of body but his commitment of the soul. He was here with me, choosing me, no matter what.

  “As long as you stare at that dock, he isn’t going to show.” His mouth inflicted havoc on the sensitive parts of my neck.

  Reynolds had spent the past month readying Jade for the six-week journey across the Western Ocean. Food, water, wood, everything we needed had been collected and hauled on board. The only thing missing was Ashley.

  “It’s not dawn yet.” I licked my lips, watching Priest’s hands, muscled and tanned, knead the white globes of my chest. “He’ll be here.”

  “What’s your plan if he isn’t?” He tweaked a nipple.

  “I’ll strap on my blades, steal the fastest horse in his stable, ride like the wind to London, and arrive before he relieves his bride of her maidenhood.”

  “You’ll kill her.”

  “Depends. If she’s curled up on the floor and crying in fear, perhaps I would take pity.”

  “If her virgin eyes saw the size of his cock, she would undoubtedly be in that position.”

  “Oh, yes, his superior breeding.” I shook my head and laughed. “His words.”

  “Arrogant prick.” His smile tickled my neck. “I think we got through to him.”

  “You do?” I turned in his arms to see his handsome whiskered face.

  “Aye.” He dipped his head and captured my lips.

  It was a soft, languid kiss, one that drew my mouth to his in irresistible sips.

  “You don’t believe for a minute that he married her,” I said between sweeps of his tongue.

  “No. But…” His hand slipped down my flat belly and pressed firmly against the folds between my legs. “One week wasn’t enough time for him to disband his life in London and walk away. He won’t make it here by your deadline.”

  He sank his finger inside me. I gulped, tried to fight it. He stroked an explosive rhythm against my flesh. I moaned, tried to fight it. His other arm firmed its grip around my back, and he went about distracting me from my vigilance of the dock.

  I tried to fight it until I ended up on the desk in the cabin with his cock buried to the hilt.

  His lips lay waste to my focus, kissing and sucking my breasts, as he rocked at an agonizingly slow pace. My hands curled up and around his broad shoulders, my hips straining wantonly toward his.

  While I’d regained my strength in the manor, he’d rebuilt his own. It shone in the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen as he flexed into me over and over.

  Roguish masculinity radiated from him, especially while in the heat of passion. He embodied primal danger and power and something else. Something that called to the instinctual needs of a woman.

  He was a protector, a provider, and an incomparable lover. The way he used his lips and moved his body had been and always would be one of my greatest weaknesses.

  “Come on my cock, Bennett.” He snarled the heated words into my mouth.

  I responded instantly, trembling and gasping and clinging to his handsome hooded gaze. As he followed me with his own release, the sound of Jade’s windlass groaned into motion.

  We froze, sharing a wide-eyed look.

  “They’re weighing.” My chest clamped tight as I listened to the sounds of what was undeniably the anchor being hoisted from the sea. “Why are they weighing?”

  The door opened, and we turned our heads.

  Ashley stood in the gilded glow of dawn’s light, his eyes afire with a sense of autonomy. His posture was properly rigid yet less…stifled. He looked free, independent, and self-governing.

  Relief crashed through me in glorious waves of warmth, and Priest’s spent cock gave an answering throb inside me. He caressed my thigh absently, his gaze locked on Ashley. Then he pulled out and drew me up to sit on the desk.

  Ashley wore a white satin shirt, open at the collar. No doublet or waistcoat. No lace cuffs or jewel-encrusted buttons. Boots covered his feet. Jackboots. His legs—long and finely thewed—were cased in brown leather breeches, the likes of which I’d never seen him wear.

  The sword he carried at his hip wasn’t a cutlass. But it was practical, the kind used for hacking and surviving rather than sport. With his cropped short hair, clean-shaved face, and perfectly erect carriage, he didn’t quite look like a pirate.

  His muscled physique was that of a seafaring man, to be certain. But he clad it in fabrics from the most expensive haberdashers and bootmakers.

  He looked like a pirate prince.

  Elegantly masculine.

  Strikingly confident.

  Gorgeously male.

  I perched on the edge of the desk and crossed my legs, poised like a lady, as if I weren’t nude and freshly fucked. “You’re late.”

  “Am I?” He closed the door behind him, his mouth twitching in the shadow of a grin, begging to be kissed. “I arrived two hours before dawn. I gave Reynolds the orders to weigh since you were otherwise indisposed. And missing me terribly, I see.” His gaze drifted down my body. “Open your legs.”

  Jade groaned and creaked with the roll of the waves. She was officially in motion, set on a course to my father’s treasure.

  “You’ve been here for two hours?” I arched a brow. “What were—?”

  “I have some demands in this arrangement.” He strolled toward me and flicked a finger in the direction of my cunt. “Open.”

  Priest pulled on a pair of breeches from the armoire, his eyes alight with amusement. No help there.

  Oh, blast it. I leaned back on my arms and spread my legs.

  Ashley set the desk chair before me and lowered into it, reclining, his gaze on mine. “I sold my properties. All but one. The manor on the cliff, its tenants, staff, and land remain in my possession. I understand you wish to live on this ship, and I will remain at your side. But I require annual visits to England—all three of us—and so we shall call the manor our second home.”

  I nodded, grinning, loving him with all my heart.

  “What happened with your parents?” Priest sat on the bed, his back to the wall, and an arm dangling over a bent knee.

  “They were so absorbed in what I was losing that they never asked what I was getting in exchange. They believe I’ve gone mad.”

  “Perhaps, in time, they’ll miss you enough to ask,” I said.

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” His expression showed neither sadness nor relief. This wasn’t a mask. He was genuinely indifferent about it. “Given the company I now keep, my answers would be lies anyway.” He set a hand on my thigh, his thumb absently stroking. “I ended the betrothal in person, and I daresay the young girl looked relieved. The Royal Navy, however, is a different matter. My superiors won’t know I deserted until they realized I’ve stopped reporting in.”

  My pulse quickened at his somber tone. “Are you going to regret this?”

  “What I’ve given up is a lot.” He gripped my waist with both hands and placed a kiss between my breasts. “What I’ve gained is precious. Inestimable. A value too great to measure.” He exchanged a fond look with Priest and returned to me. “Thank you for helping me understand that.”

  My heart soared, and my mouth trembled. We stared at each other, and dear lord, there was so much love in that look. I felt full and warm with it, bursting at the seams.

  “Oh, Ashley, I do love when you’re sentimental.” I straightened out my smile. “Now tell me what you were doing on my ship for the last two hours.”

  A blanket of stillness settled over hi
m as his mien took on the severity of man in command of a room.

  “This is your ship.” He set a loosely curled hand against my cheek, using the backs of his fingers to gently push my hair away. “Topside, you’re the captain. I will never undermine you in front of your men.” His hand went rigid in my hair, capturing a fist full of locks. “In the privacy of our quarters, I am your commodore and captor.”

  My chest lifted on a thrill of pleasure. I commanded the ship. Ashley commanded the bedchamber. Priest, on the other hand, was a man of many talents. Skills that had been earned through his roles as a footman, gunner, pirate captain, husband, and libertine. But the one he favored was his position as Groom of the Chamber. He’d taken care of Ashley for years and was blatantly clear about his intentions in doing the same for me. He was the backbone of our three-part relationship.

  “She’ll go along with that,” he drawled from the bed, watching my reaction, “until you try to dress her in ribbons, lace, and other frilly nonsense.”

  Truth. I bit back a smile.

  “I prefer her without clothes.” Releasing my hair, Ashley gripped my thighs and spread me wider. “Jesus, you make me hard.” His jaw tensed as he stared at my cunt. “I can see his seed dripping out of you. You’re a damned sinful sight, one that would make the devil weep.”

  I waited for him to touch me there, but his expression turned thoughtful. Watchful. He wasn’t finished listing his demands.

  “I want marriage.” His incisive gaze flicked to mine, to Priest, and back to me. “I don’t care about formalities or ceremony. I want a marriage that’s recognized by both of you.” He clasped a possessive hand between my legs. “You will be my wife, bound to me in the same way that you’re bound to Priest.”

  Currents of joy rocked beneath the keel of my heart.

  Priest folded his hands over his abdomen, his silver eyes on Ashley. “After everything we’ve been through, I already consider our triad a binding union. She’s our wife. Yours and mine. If you need a formal declaration, I’ll give it.” The corner of his mouth crooked as he looked at me. “She’s Mrs. Cutler, Mrs. Farrell, Captain Sharp, Benedicta Leighton…”

  “Goldilocks.” Ashley studied my face. “I love you. Be my wife.”

  “Already yours. Your wife, your lover, your captive, a pirate who loves both you and your best friend above all else. And we shall be blinded by our love for life and beyond the ends of the sea.”

  “By God and the devil, you’re such a deliciously beautiful woman I can’t think past my need to be deeply entrenched between your thighs.” He drew in a breath and rubbed his eyes. “Just a few more matters to discuss, such as what I’ve been doing for the past two hours.” His lips twitched. “I visited Jobah in his cabin.”

  My head jerked back. “Why?”

  “I wish to propose the end to your crew’s raiding and plundering of His Majesty’s Ships. I may be a Royal Navy deserter, but I’m still an Englishman who loves his country. I understand that all major decisions are made by popular vote and thereby written into the Articles. But that’s not why I sought out Jobah. I have another proposal for your men and ran it by him first.”

  “What proposal?” I asked. “Why Jobah? I’m the captain of this ship.”

  “I’ll tell you once I’ve worked out the details. Lay aside your impatience and give me your trust, woman.”

  “Fine.” I blew out a breath. “You have it.”

  “Very good.” He stood and motioned at me to turn. “Bend over the desk.”

  My pulse sped up, and a chill gripped my spine. “Last time you gave that order, you beat my arse until I couldn’t sit.”

  “Then you know what’s coming.” He clasped his hands behind his back and stared down his haughty nose at me.

  “You’re going to spank me? For what reason?” I looked at Priest as if he might have the answer.

  “Don’t make him wait.” Priest didn’t move from his sprawl on the bed, the bastard.

  My blood tingled as I turned and bent over the desk. “Is this you, establishing your role as my captor in the bedchamber?”

  “This is me, beating your arse for the unforgivable bargain you made with Madwulf. For putting yourself in his hands and away from our protection. And for leaving me a week ago after making demands and trying to run our lives on your terms. This relationship is a three-way democracy, not a dictatorship ruled by one insolent woman.”

  “Says the man who dictated that I bend for his—”

  The slam of his palm against my backside shattered my thoughts and stole my breath. Then he struck me again. And again. With a large open hand and a ruthlessly strong arm, he spanked me brutally, passionately, and without quarter. He set fire to my flesh until I felt every ounce of fear and rage he’d experienced as a result of my actions. By the time he straightened and adjusted his clothes, I was properly apologetic and equally aroused.

  He wasn’t finished.

  Before I could rise from the desk, he impaled himself inside me. With his thrusts and his kisses, he demonstrated how much he’d missed me as Priest watched with approval.

  Here now, at last, I possessed what Ashley had warned was so ruinous.

  Love had hunted me, captured me, bred madness, and yes, it left a sea of ruin in its wake. But the devastation washed away. The skies cleared, and now we were calm, free, sailing on the winds of our hard-won peace.

  Later, we dressed, ate, and left the cabin so that I could make my rounds through the decks.

  The three of us strolled side by side in the salty air, talking about the weather, my father’s detailed map, Ashley’s trip to London, and the life he was leaving behind. We laughed and gossiped and basked in the freedom of one another’s company.

  Freedom. We all felt it.

  It was the beginning of a new life, a new voyage, with an exciting destination.

  The thrill that hummed beneath my skin was intoxicating. Given the smiles in their eyes, I knew they were soused on it, too.

  That night, I watched them reach for each other. Not out of anger or aggression. They came together in a language of closeness, tightening their arms around a bond that had been forged through twenty years of trials and loyalty.

  As their hard, muscular bodies joined and moved as one, I was awestruck, mesmerized, unable to look away.

  They took turns inside each other, stroking, grasping, mating. They tried to draw me in, but I found an inordinate amount of inclusiveness and pleasure in watching them. It was profound, poignant, deeply beautiful.

  When I was a child, I promised my father that I would marry a man of his fortitude and spirit. A man who loved me above all else.

  As it turned out, I doubled up on that vow.

  I married two.

  October 1721

  Oak Island, Province of New Scotland

  It took us nigh two months to cross the Great Western Ocean and sail north along the coast of New England. Another month was spent hauling heavy tools and provisions across the uninhabited oak-covered island, setting up camp, and digging. Endless goddamned digging.

  My father had always told me I was an adventurous lass. Seven years after his death, he’d gifted me with the adventure of a lifetime.

  The map led us deep into the wilderness and stopped at a natural indention in the ground. Excavation was required. Perhaps I’d expected that. But I hadn’t realized just how deep we would have to hollow out the forest floor.

  My one-hundred-and-twenty-man crew worked in shifts from sunrise to sunset, taking turns shoveling dirt and watching the ship. The air thrummed with excitement with each passing day as we dug through layers of sand, silt, clay, and years of overgrown foliage. With the promise of wealth so close at hand, there were few complaints and a whole lot of smiles.

  “We’re there.” Priest stooped at the bottom of the twenty-foot hole—as deep as it was wide—and swung a pickax at the layer of rocks. “I can feel it.”

  The dozen pirates around him shook their heads and kept digging.


  “You said that a week ago.” I strode along the topside of the hole toward Ashley and Jobah, where they were repairing a pile of broken shovels. “I can take over here if you need a break.”

  Jobah nodded, wiping beads of sweat from his brow. I passed him a bladder of water and knelt beside Ashley, jumping into the repairs.

  “What do you think attracted Edric Sharp to this island?” Blue eyes met mine, sparkling in the dappled sunlight.

  “I don’t know.”

  This was an ancient place, rich with the history of indigenous people long gone. Massive boulders marked the land with symbols of religious worship, and trenches in the earth indicated the worn tracks of humans from another time. Who had come and gone here? How had my father learned about it? Had he stumbled upon the island during his travels? Perhaps those answers had been in his letter.

  A fingertip stroked along my cheek, pulling me from my thoughts. I looked up to find Ashley rubbing a smudge of dirt from my face.

  I daresay his emancipation from English nobility suited him. He would always carry himself with the bearing of a lord, but his posture had lost its uncomfortable rigidity. Since leaving England, he moved freely and naturally in his skin.

  “I hit something!” Priest bellowed from the bottom of the pit. “Bennett, get your arse down here.”

  I was already moving, tumbling down the embankment and ripping my trousers in my hurry. At the bottom, I stumbled toward Priest and knelt near his pickax.

  “That’s timber.” I clawed away dirt and clay and ran my hands over the wooden surface beneath. “Man-made. Some sort of hatch. Throw me an ax!”

  Three hours later, we broke through a wooden fortification that stretched six-feet wide and two-feet deep. As the last of the shelf was ripped away, everyone gathered around, breaths held, the very air silent and waiting.

  I expected to descend into a cave the likes of a royal palace that overflowed with treasure chests, carved silver, gold jewelry, baubles, Chinese porcelain, ivory, rich fabrics, and rare paintings. We all anticipated that.