The Dark Heart of the Sea: A Steamy Fated Lovers Pirate Romance (Pirate of the Isles Book 2)

by Celeste Barclay

  “And what do you want?”

  “My spanking, please.”

  “Anything else?” Ruairí asked lightly.

  “To take you in my mouth. To pleasure you.”

  “Mmm. I think there’s still something more that you want, little one. Tell me now, or I might not know there should be more.”

  “I want to feel your cock in my cunny.” It wasn’t often that they spoke so bluntly about their bed sport, but that evening it heightened their need and increased their restlessness. Ruairí wrapped his other arm beneath her breasts, cupping one in his hand. His finger dipped back into her sheath as he nudged her legs further apart.

  “And just how would you like me to do that?”

  Senga glanced at the bed, then the chair Ruairí would most likely sit on while doling out her punishment, and finally to the table.

  “I want to see you, but I also want you to tie me to something.”

  Ruairí’s eyebrow twitched just as his cock did. “You shall have your wish, but first we have your spanking to take care of.” Ruairí led her to the chair where he sat down, then eased her over his lap. “Are you comfortable?”

  “Yes, Ruairí.”

  As soon as the words left her lips, Ruairí’s hand rained down a fiery storm of spanks, alternating sides. Some landed across the fleshiest part of her bottom, but several landed across the crease at the top of her thighs, pushing the globes up. He stared as the flesh transitioned from lily white to rosy pink to a deep blush, much like the hue he and Senga witnessed as they watched the sunrise. He hadn’t understood Rowan’s interest in erotic discipline until he experimented with Senga. He recalled that from the beginning that spankings interested her, and he’d known he was willing to try it if she wanted, but he never imagined that it would arouse him so much. He understood part of their happiness was due to his dominance; it was yet another means for Ruairí to express how much he loved Senga and wanted to care for her.

  Throughout the spanking, Senga remained as still as she could, one hand gripping the leg of the chair while the other clung to Ruairí’s ankle. She forced herself not to kick her legs or try to shield her backside. She knew she’d asked for the spanking and that if she risked getting hurt by putting her hands behind her back, it really would upset Ruairí. She understood she risked never getting a spanking again if Ruairí believed he’d hurt her. As the blows slowed and decreased in intensity, Senga went limp across his lap. He rubbed the punished skin before dipping his fingers between her thighs. He discovered she was even wetter than she had been before they began the spanking. Without a word, Ruairí lifted Senga and carried her to the table. He sat her on the surface before retrieving the veils he’d used before. With a gentle kiss to her forehead, Ruairí eased Senga onto her back, drawing her arms overhead and securing them to the table legs with the satin. With her hips at the edge of the table, and her legs dangling, he bound her ankles to the other two table legs.

  “Ruairí, I didn’t show you that I’m sorry.” Senga watched at Ruairí undressed.

  “You will.” Ruairí offered no further explanation, but Senga quickly understood when he came to stand behind her head. His superior height made it easy for him to press his rod against her lips. She raised her chin and opened her mouth in acceptance. It wasn’t long before Ruairí withdrew, coming too close to his release. Senga spied him fisting himself as he walked around to her feet. She strained to lift her head, but the way Ruairí had restrained her arms made it nearly impossible. Her breath whooshed from her as Ruairí thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt as he gripped her hips.

  Ruairí surged into her over and over as Senga willed her body to slow and not climax too soon. She wanted to enjoy this, drawing out each sensation that ricocheted through her as Ruairí drove her closer to release. Her eyes drifted closed when she could no longer fight the need to turn off one of her senses as the others remained overstimulated. Ruairí watched as Senga’s eyelids drooped, understanding she was losing the battle to control her body. He leaned forward, taking one of her nipples into his mouth. As he suckled, she burst apart, her back arching off the table before she tilted her hips, offering a better angle. He was certain he had reduced his cock to nothing after the way his seed exploded from him. As soon as they both felt the tremors fade, Ruairí was quick to release Senga’s arms, rubbing the circulation back into them. She wiggled her fingers before deciding she had enough feeling back to wrap her arms around Ruairí. They laid atop the table until Ruairí noticed Senga growing cold. He untied her legs and carried her to their bed. It didn’t take long before they were snuggled beneath the covers and fast asleep.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Senga stood beside Ruairí at the helm as the city of Glasgow came into view down the Firth of Clyde. She shielded her eyes as they progressed along the inland waterway. There were other ships, mostly merchants and fishermen, who maneuvered around the Lady Charity. While the ship flew the banners that displayed the marque of Argyll, most recognized her for what she was: a pirate ship. Senga hadn’t been on board the last time Ruairí sailed this close to a heavily inhabited area. When they put ashore just before their wedding, Senga and Caragh had to travel inland quite a way before they saw any sign of a village. From where she stood, Senga could see people moving along the coast and buildings formed into solid shapes as the Port of Glasgow came into sight.

  “What will happen?” Senga caught herself whispering, as though her words might carry to someone on shore and alert the town to the pirates’ approach. Though she spoke softly, Ruairí heard her, and responded.

  “We will dock, and while the men unload what they can during daylight, I will pay my respects to the Earl of Argyll.”

  Senga nodded, unsure if she should ask to come along or barricade herself into their cabin, Ruairí seemed to read her mind. “I’m not leaving you here, Senga. I don’t trust anyone in this city as far as I could throw them. I want you by my side where I know I can defend you. Besides, I have a rather bonnie bride I’m proud to have walking with me.”

  “If that’s the case, it doesn’t seem like we shall blend in,” Senga pointed out. “You are a rather recognizable figure.”

  “And you are breathtaking.” he smiled.

  “Whose breath will you be taking if they look at me?” Senga grinned.

  “Any and every man foolish enough to try.” Ruairí pressed a kiss on her forehead as they drew closer to port.

  In less than half an hour, Ruairí was assisting Senga onto the dock. She’d returned to their cabin and changed into the finest gown she had. Ruairí had a chest brought to their cabin after they married and insisted Senga select anything she wanted. Today, she’d opted for an intricately embroidered kirtle that complimented her ebony hair and dark eyes. She’d taken time to brush her hair and twist it into a stylish coiffure before draping a shawl over her head and shoulders to keep the wind from blowing her hair loose. Now she held Ruairí’s hand as they walked along the dock. More than one woman approached Ruairí, but Senga’s bared teeth halted them in their tracks. Ruairí chuckled until the first man leered at her, and Senga feared the man might die before he realized Ruairí would attack. She squeezed his arm and grinned at him.

  “Not so nice, is it?” Senga cocked an eyebrow before sweeping her gaze over the women who plied their trade along the docks.

  “No, it’s not,” Ruairí frowned, but his face relaxed when he caught the mirth in Senga’s eyes.

  “We’re quite the piratical pair,” Senga grinned. “Happy to plunder one another and possessive of our treasures.”

  “I’m a treasure, am I?” Ruairí teased.

  “One I intend to plunder as soon as we return to our cabin.”

  “In that case, I shall hurry to conclude our business.” Ruairí scanned the gathering crowd, his arm wrapped casually around Senga’s shoulders; however, she knew it was anything but. He was prepared to draw his sword in an instant if he perceived a threat. “We will need horses to travel the scan
t distance to Dumbarton Castle.”

  “I thought the earl’s residence was Campbell Castle.”

  “It is, but the earl visits Dumbarton when his fleet, as he likes to think of them, sails into port. He collects a fee from all the captains, not just Rowan and me. We pay the most, thanks to our reputation, but it is a necessary evil to keep our heads attached to our necks. My fear is that with the delay, he will have grown impatient and departed. If that’s the case, the best we can hope for is that he’s gone to Inveraray instead of Campbell Castle.”

  “How long is the ride to Inveraray?”

  “Only a couple of hours; not too bad a ride. If he’s returned home, I’ll have to find the man I’ve used as a messenger in the past. I’ll take you back to the Lady Charity if that’s the case. I’m not taking you to the place where I’d have to meet him.”

  Senga cocked an eyebrow and managed to narrow her eyes at the same time. “A brothel.”

  Ruairí halted and turned to look at Senga in surprise. “No. But even if that’s the case, I would conduct my business and leave.”

  “Business of more than one kind?” Senga demanded.

  “Are you trying to earn another spanking, or do you have such little belief that I can be faithful? Why’d you marry me if that’s the case?”

  Senga shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m being so moody and contentious these days. Perhaps I need more sleep. We’ve just never been ashore together other than for you to chase me. I know what you did at the Three Merry Lads before we met.”

  “And you assume I’ll return to my old habits the moment I’m out of your sight.”

  “I told you, I don’t know why I’m being so moody all of a sudden. I just—” Senga trailed off. There was no rationale to her emotions. Ruairí had done nothing to make her fear he might stray. In fact, he was the most devoted husband she’d ever seen, but fear crept into her chest when he said he intended to take her back to the Lady Charity. “Ruairí, you told me you didn’t feel comfortable leaving me behind on the ship. But now you’re telling me that’s where you’ll take me and you haven’t told me where you would be going. Where else would you be going if you don’t want to take me?”

  Ruairí saw the logic in Senga’s fear, and he felt guilty for causing her distress. He pulled her into his embrace, not caring who witnessed the dreaded Dark Heart’s affection toward his wife. He saw no weakness in loving Senga, nor did he experience any embarrassment for showing it.

  “Senga, the man will undoubtedly be in the gaol. That’s where I always find him. He was one of my men before he lost his arm. He couldn’t work aboard ship, so he opted to retire from my service. He thought to find some work on land, but he’s a drunkard on his best of days. I’ve offered to have him return, but he refuses, saying he doesn’t need my pity. For all his faults, he’s still one of the best horsemen I know, and I can trust him with my purse of coins. I don’t want to take you where I’m certain I’ll find him. I don’t want you near that stench, and I don’t want you to hear the things men will say to you. I don’t want you to see such misery and suffering while I bribe his way out. I’d keep you from that because there are sights there that you will never unsee. I don’t want you waiting outside for me, either, even with Tomas and Snake Eye to guard you.”

  “Hopefully, it won’t come to that. And, Ruairí, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions so quickly. You haven’t given me any reason to doubt you. I don’t know that any man could be a more honorable husband.”

  “I understand your fear, little one. It’s hard to overlook a reputation I rightly earned.” He kissed Senga’s temple before stepping back. “I don’t regret for a moment that I’ll earn a different reputation these days.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “A besotted husband who can’t keep his hands off his bonnie bride.”

  “I rather like that reputation,” Senga giggled as they came to the end of the pier.

  Ruairí guided them through the crowded town until they came to the blacksmith. Spotting horses for rent was a tremendous relief to Ruairí. He hadn’t been sure if there would be any available, and he didn’t want to add horse thief to his lengthy list of transgressions.

  “Is the Earl of Argyll still in residence at Dumbarton?” Ruairí asked as he clasped hands with a man he’d known for years. He’d come to this blacksmith countless times to have weapons repaired and to rent horses when he had to travel inland.

  “Aye, as far as I ken. But I hear he is readying to head home. Ye made it just in time. He’s been grousing that ye and yer cousin havenae held up yer end of the agreement. Been cursing yer name to anyone who will listen. Threatening to revoke yer marque and put yer head on a pike.”

  “Not a patient man, is he?” Senga mumbled.

  The blacksmith turned an assessing eye on Senga, who returned his stare in equal measure.

  “Bonnie lass ye have with ye, Capt’n.”

  “Senga is my bonnie wife.” The steel in Ruairí’s voice seemed to ring throughout the blacksmith’s shop and into the stables. Once more, Ruairí’s arm appeared to rest casually around Senga’s shoulders, but there was no misunderstanding the menace in his glare as it swept across every man within earshot. He knew word would spread quickly and that his reputation protected Senga as much as it made her a target once again. Hopefully the warning in his glare would outweigh the bait.

  “Then felicitations are in order. Ma regards, ma lady.” The blacksmith dipped his head, but Senga could tell he was still trying to assess her. She suspected he assumed she was a well-dressed prostitute, and Ruairí’s snarl said her husband had come to the same conclusion. The blacksmith put up his hands in surrender. “I mean no disrespect, Dark Heart. Just curious is all.”

  “Aye, and curiosity killed the cat,” Ruairí reminded. “Senga is from one of the smaller isles in the Hebrides. We met when I had to go ashore in her village.” That was all Ruairí was willing to say. It wasn’t an untruth, but he would never admit they met in a tavern, or there would be no way to change people’s perception. He refused to have anyone confuse his wife for a tavern whore.

  “Right. Ye’ll be needing mounts, I’m guessing. Just two?”

  “Nay, four. Tomas and Snake Eye are riding with us.”

  Senga kept quiet, though she was surprised to hear the two loyal sailors were ordered to accompany them. She wondered if Ruairí would have made the brief trip alone if she weren’t with him. Senga glanced over her shoulder to see Tomas and Snake Eye lounging against the door frame, blocking the entrance for anyone who might attempt to enter before Ruairí concluded his business.

  “Of course, Capt’n.” The blacksmith called over his apprentices and sent the young men to saddle the horses while Ruairí paid. “I wouldnae waste a moment as word is, Argyll departs before the nooning. Ye’re lucky he isnae an early riser.”

  Ruairí and the blacksmith shook hands as Senga realized that she and the local man had not truly been introduced. Ruairí then assisted her into the saddle. Senga hadn’t ridden in years, but it came back to her as though it were still second nature. She tied her shawl tightly beneath her chin before they set off, and she was glad of it as they galloped out of the city. She hoped to preserve some of her polished appearance before they were presented to one of the most powerful men in Scotland.

  Ruairí glanced over at Senga throughout the ride, both impressed and relieved that she was so comfortable on horseback. It wasn’t often that he needed to ride these days, but should they ever need to escape by land, it was reassuring to know that she could keep up.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It had been years since Senga stepped into the bailey of a castle, never mind one as enormous as this one. She hadn’t had a reason to visit any nobility once she left Lewis. She’d made that one failed attempt to return home after her husband and son died. Beyond that, there was no keep to visit on Canna. Strangely, she felt both at home and on guard as she approached the castle’s steps. She knew wh
at to expect from a bustling keep, but she didn’t know any of the people around her.

  As armed as she knew Ruairí was, Senga had nearly as many weapons strapped to her. He’d teased her when she slid her dirks into the sheaths on her thighs and into her boots. She’d added the small, razor-sharp knife known as the sgian dubh to her belt along with wrist bracers she’d found in a chest not long after she boarded the Lady Charity. Ruairí jested, asking if they were to protect herself or him. His smile burst across his face as she hissed and pounced. She’d knocked him back onto the bed and reminded him there was nothing she wouldn’t do to protect him.

  Ruairí wrapped Senga’s arm around his as a guardsman opened the castle’s massive door. Her eyes darted over the floor, the walls, the passageways that led away from the entrance, and finally the Great Hall. She knew the man seated at the dais had to be the Earl of Argyll. There was an aura of arrogance that came from the generations of power and influence exercised by the Campbells. There were few clans who could rival the Campbells’ power, or their dominance over the Highlands. Since the reign of Robert the Bruce, the Campbells’ reach had spread across land that the crown ceded them as well as won in battle. No monarch had reeled in the Campbells, and they enjoyed their prominent position within the government and among Highlanders.

  The man on the dais seemed the picture of gluttony. He grudgingly lowered the leg of mutton on which he chewed, licking his fingers before swiping his sleeve across his mouth. Senga had seen the same manners in the men who frequented the Three Merry Lads. She knew wealth didn’t buy couth. As she and Ruairí approached, Senga wanted to squirm under the earl’s lecherous gaze, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of her discomfort. Ruairí dipped his head but showed no other signs of deference. Senga curtseyed, but ensured she kept her back straight, lest she give the earl a view of her cleavage. She was determined to do nothing that could be seen as flirtatious or encouraging.