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

by Celeste Barclay

  “And what will Lizzie MacDonnell say when she learns you’ve been all the way to Rathlin and Ballycastle without paying her a visit?” Padraig called out. Senga ground her teeth as she glanced at Ruairí. When he appeared unfazed by the mention of another woman’s name, Senga dug her nails into the back of his hand.

  “I haven’t a clue what Lizzie MacDonnell would say, nor do I care. I may have tupped her a time or two, but she was as good as the next. Aidan can have her, if he wants her. She holds no interest for me. But I warned you, MacAlister, about how you speak of my wife. That includes trying to humiliate her.” Ruairí whipped out the dirk he’d returned to its sheath and sent it sailing into Padraig’s throat. Blood surged from the gash, spraying Fionn and Aidan. A woman screamed from somewhere behind Senga, and the sound of feet running echoed in the hall, but she kept her eyes on Ruairí. He stomped over to Padraig as the wounded man sank to his knees before keeling over. Ruairí withdrew another dirk and slashed Padraig’s groin. “You’re lucky I find I don’t have the stomach to actually touch you. You’ll die without sucking your own cock.”

  Fionn clapped Ruairí on the shoulder and grinned. “Thank you. I couldn’t stand the bluidy bastard. I just wish the blood was on you and not me. I’ll be drawing flies soon.”

  Aidan stepped in front of Ruairí, not appearing as pleased as Fionn. “You just ruined any chance of the MacDonnells joining our cause.”

  “Your cause, not ours. I told you that before. I don’t care whether or not you fight Neil MacLeod because it doesn’t matter to Senga. O’Flaherty, you may not understand this, but you need to accept it: my wife is the only priority I have. I will do anything to defend her, and I’ll turn away from everything else.”

  “You’ll care now that you’ve agreed to fight alongside Fionn. When the MacLeods outnumber us, you’ll care then.”

  “If you don’t believe you can win, don’t enter the battle. I’m no sacrificial lamb.”

  “So what if you couldn’t stand Padraig? You took care of that. Lizzie MacDonnell was an excuse to embarrass you, and we all see where it got the arse. She’s not a reason to avoid recruiting the MacDonnells.”

  “You don’t seem to understand, O’Flaherty. I’m not worried about seeing Lizzie or any other woman from my past because it’s obvious to everyone that that’s what it is. My past. I love my wife, and she knows I’m devoted to her. But it matters not because I’m not interested in recruiting anyone else to this. You want more allies, make them yourself. I’ll show up at the appointed time.” Ruairí turned back to Senga and wiggled his fingers within her iron grasp. She hadn’t eased her hold on him since the other woman’s name was first mentioned.

  “Then do it for your son,” Aidan declared.

  Ruairí glanced at Senga and saw the devastation on her face before he lunged at Aidan. He grasped the man around the throat and shook him like a rag doll before driving him backward into the wall, his head smashing against the stone wall with a sickening crack. Ruairí plowed his fist into Aidan’s face, cracking his jaw.

  “That child is yours, and anyone with at least one good eye can tell. He has black hair and blue eyes and is the spitting image of you. Just because that bitch tried to trap me years ago doesn’t make her lies true. Anyone who can count to nine knows I didn’t father that lad. I was in the bluidy Mediterranean when you sired him. Do right by the lad. Don’t fob him off on me. And if you try anything more to get between me and my wife, to try to lure her away, I will gut you. What I did to Padraig will be considered a mercy kill compared to what I’ll do to you. Don’t believe I’ve gone soft just because I have a wife.” Ruairí drove his fist into Aidan’s gut before dropping the man to the ground. Aidan O’Flaherty was a sizable man who’d clearly fought more than one battle, but Ruairí made him appear like little more than a child compared to him. Ruairí took Senga’s hand and led them out of the keep. Neither said a word until they arrived in their cabin.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ruairí had a pounding headache as they boarded the Lady Charity, and Senga only made it worse when she slammed the door.

  “You might have told me there’s a rumor you sired a child,” she hissed. “The only person to humiliate me there was you. How could you not tell me there’s a chance you have a son?”

  “Because there isn’t a chance. You heard me. The child is Aidan’s, and any halfwit knows it with one glance. Besides, I wasn’t anywhere near Lizzie when she conceived that child. She was Aidan’s bluidy mistress!” Ruairí kicked the chair away from the table and sank into it. “I never said anything because I never think about that. I was always careful with the women in my past. You’re the only woman I’ve spilled in. Or rather, the only one I’ve risked planting my seed in.”

  “Risked? Is that what it is?”

  “It was before we married,” Ruairí growled. Senga backed away, shaking her head, her eyes narrowed. Ruairí leaped from his chair, pouncing. “Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t retreat from me. You wanted to accuse me of something I already explained I hadn’t done. And yes, it was a risk before we wed. How did I know you wouldn’t want to leave? That you wouldn’t try to leave? What if I had sired a child on you and you left? I would never allow a child of mine to grow up as a bastard. I never would have brought you aboard because I’d be married and miserable with Lizzie if the lad was mine.”

  Ruairí tunneled his hand into Senga’s hair, keeping her in place. She fisted his leine, unsure if she wanted to push him away or pull him against her. Ruairí decided for her, when his hand slid to her lower back, and he brought their bodies flush. He nuzzled Senga’s neck, and she was unprepared for the gentleness. Ruairí eased his grip and kissed her behind her ear. It wasn’t a kiss intended to seduce her. It came across as more like an apology.

  “I’m sorry that Padraig and Aidan humiliated you, and I can understand how horrid hearing those things must have been. But I need you to have faith that I would never keep such a secret from you. After what happened to Rowan, I’d don’t have it in me to turn away from my own child. We may know now that it was a misunderstanding, but Rowan and I spent half a score of years assuming his mother abandoned him. My fears before we married were as real as yours were now. You did try to leave.” Before Senga had the chance to defend herself, Ruairí pressed a soft kiss against her lips. “I understand why you did it, and I’m no longer angry or hurt, but what would have happened if we had created a child and you left? I would never have known. I would never have seen the child I’ve wished for with you.”

  “Wished for?” Senga asked. “You make it sound as though this is something you’ve thought about for a while.”

  “I told you my vision from the night we met; it was the same as yours. I’ve wanted to have a bairn with you since the very beginning, but we weren’t in place to do that. Now we are, and we’ve been trying very hard.”

  Senga ran her hand over Ruairí’s hair as he bent his head to once more kiss the sensitive spot behind her ear. Her core clenched as she swayed toward him. “It was humiliating, but it hurt so dreadfully much to think you’d kept such a secret from me. You know all about my past, but there is so much that I’ve never asked about yours, and you’ve never volunteered it. I didn’t want to know the details about the gruesome side of your business, but now I wonder how much of your private life I should have inquired about. Lizzie may have been Aidan’s mistress, but did you love her? Did you want her for yourself?”

  “Absolutely not. Did I strike you as the type to fall in love when we met?”

  “Actually, yes. You did with me.”

  “Because it was you. I didn’t earn the name Dark Heart by being sentimental and caring. Senga, before you, anger and bitterness consumed me because of what happened on Barra all those years ago. I clung to it and let it fester. I even nurtured it. I was incapable of moving past how fate forced Rowan and me into piracy. And I couldn’t accept my role in what I became. There wasn’t a speck of room in my heart for anything but coldness and
fury. At least, not until I met you. You melted all of that away in an instant. The night we met I experienced a calm for the first time in years. You’ve been a balm I never wanted before I met you. I haven’t told you the unsavory details of my years sailing and pirating because I wish to spare you that. You know what I got up to when I came ashore. You told me you knew as much, but it was entertainment. It was a satisfying way to pass the time. That is not how I see us. I’ve never seen us that way.”

  “I love you, Ruairí. I think I have since that very first day. It crushed me to think you shared a family with another woman.”

  Ruairí gazed into Senga’s eyes for a long time before he decided to say what had plagued him since they met. “I’ve been jealous of a dead man ever since Shamus told me you were married before. We both lived a whole lifetime before we met, but I’m jealous that my bairn isn’t the first you’ll carry, that you’ve had that family before me. I’m jealous that you’ve loved a man other than me.” Ruairí swallowed the lump that threatened to choke him and blinked away the tears that pricked the back of his eyelids.

  “Ruairí, a part of me wishes you were the only man I’d married, the only man to father my child. But I can’t undo that, and I’ll never regret having James. But how I feel about you couldn’t be further from what I experienced with Alexander. Yes, I loved him, but it was much like a friend. It was the physical attraction that made me think it was more than that. Aye, I enjoyed him bedding me as much as you enjoyed your time with other women. But the consuming need to be with you, to protect you, to make you happy, to comfort you, to share everything with you, was never there before. I try not to imagine the number of women who have enjoyed you like I have, but it’s hard not to sometimes. I get jealous, too.”

  “Senga, it wasn’t the same with them.”

  “I can understand that, but it’s still hard, especially when I see how women look at you. I suspect you’ll always be the handsomest man in any room or on any dock or any ship. Anywhere. Women will always want you, and most will never care that you have a wife. You might not do anything to encourage them, but it’s still hard.”

  “We’re a right pair, little one.”

  “That’s why we work.” Senga grinned as she stretched to kiss Ruairí, and the fire sparked between them. It had been an eventful and draining morning, and both needed to clear the air as much as they needed the restorative touch. The kiss continued until they both grew restless. They pulled apart, but Ruairí rested his hands over Senga’s when she moved to untie the laces at the neck of her leine.

  “Little one, there’s still the matter of how little faith you had in me, how you assumed the worst of me.”

  Senga lowered her hands and dipped her chin. She’d suspected she wouldn’t get off that easily. While they’d cleared the air and made declarations they each needed to hear, Ruairí was right: she’d questioned him and made up her mind before hearing anything he had to say. He led them to the side of the bed and sat on the edge. “Lower your leggings, Senga.”

  She didn’t hesitate to comply, kicking off her boots before pushing her pants down over her hips. They pooled around her knees, making her shuffle toward him. She arranged herself across Ruairí’s lap, her breasts pressing against the outside of one thigh with her mons rubbing against the outside of the other. She bit her lip to keep from moaning as the friction already aroused her. Ruairí reached down and found Senga’s nipple. He rolled it between his fingers until it became a puckered dart that he tugged, twisted and pinched. The pain filled her breast with an achiness that only his mouth could satisfy, and her core burned with need for him to fill her.

  Ruairí pressed his fingers between her thighs, discovering she was already dripping. When his attempt to spread her legs wider failed, he yanked the leggings the rest of the way off and flung them across the cabin. His fingers caressed her netherlips with the lightest of touches before dipping within her just enough to coat his fingers. He drew them along the crease between her rounded globes until they grazed her rosebud.

  “All of this shall be mine today, Senga. I’m going to take you hard, and I’m going to take you tenderly, but I am going to take you.” Ruairí’s hand rained down the first spank, and Senga bucked, unprepared for the sting.

  “One,” Senga began her count without being told. Ruairí’s hand landed with a ringing crack that seemed to bounce off every surface in the cabin. “Two.”

  “Trust may be something that I must earn, but I thought I already had.” Smack.

  “Three.”

  “You’re far too quick to assume the worst about me, and that pains me, Senga. I’m a jealous and possessive man when it comes to you, but I don’t assume the worst about you.” Four more spanks came in rapid succession as Ruairí alternated sides. Ruairí continued to torment her nipples as each strike pushed her nub against his thigh. “Don’t you dare climax while you take your punishment, mo chridhe. That will not please me.”

  “Yes, Ruairí,” Senga panted. The spanking was at the point where it was still painful, and her body wanted to buck and escape. Senga took a deep breath and forced her mind to settle into the place it went where she relented and accepted the punishment. She ceded control to Ruairí, and her body relaxed. The spanking was no longer painful, even if it hurt. When Ruairí’s hand swept over her chest and along her throat with a softness that belied the force being used on her backside, she tucked her chin, trying to catch hold of his fingers. Ruairí understood her intention and brushed his fingertips over her lips, so she opened and sucked his first two fingers into her mouth. She mimicked the action she intended to soon as her punishment ended.

  Ruairí perceived the moment Senga released control and gave herself over to him and the punishment. His hand stopped spanking and rubbed the reddened flesh. He feared he might spill when she took his fingers into her mouth. The sensation of her breasts swinging against his thigh along with her pressed against his groin and his fingers dipping into her sheath with several of the strikes made him as hard as a pike. He leaned over and kissed each cheek, his sign that the spanking was complete.

  Senga slid from his lap and kneeled between his legs. She looked up, and when Ruairí nodded the permission she sought, she unlaced his leggings and took his cock in her hand. She stroked it thrice, then lowered her mouth onto him. She worked his rod until his head fell back, and his hips thrust forward. He fisted her hair and pressed her head down as he surged into her mouth over and over, brushing the tip of his cock against the back of her throat. He controlled the speed and depth with which Senga sucked, but she hummed and moaned throughout. She rolled his bollocks and stroked the length she couldn’t manage when Ruairí allowed her reprieves. Ruairí usually lifted Senga from his rod when he sensed his release approaching, then joined their bodies, but he intended for her to pay full restitution this time.

  Senga swallowed over and over as Ruairí’s seed sprayed within her mouth. It wasn’t often that he finished like that, so she was unprepared, and some of the viscous fluid spilled past her lips. She lapped it off her cheeks before cleaning Ruairí’s cock with her tongue.

  “Take the leine off then onto the bed, face down,” Ruairí ordered, and Senga was quick to comply. Ruairí pushed her legs wide before pushing her knees up, giving himself a view of Senga’s sheath. The position forced her hips to rise, making it easy to press his tongue against her core as he settled between her legs. He alternated pace and pressure as he tortured Senga with his skills, taking her to the edge before pulling away. She whimpered as her endurance for pleasure and pain waned. Ruairí mumbled, “Not yet.”

  Senga buried her face in the covers as she clawed at them, so she was unprepared for Ruairí to thrust into her. His rod seemed larger than usual, but Senga wasn’t sure if that was the case or her need for him to fill her led her to feel like this. Ruairí ground his hips against her backside and thrust twice more before spilling again. He’d been fisting his cock the entire time he’d feasted upon Senga. His fingers dipped in
to her entrance as he coated them, then pressed against her rosebud. She drew her knees under her and offered without reservation her most sacred space. Ruairí pressed his fingers within, readying her as he once again stroked himself. His ability to harden a third time amazed even him. He wasn’t a callow youth who became aroused by the wind blowing in his direction. He worked his cock until he was stiff enough to press into Senga’s core once more. Senga whimpered as he coated his cock with her dew. She cried out when he pulled away, leaving her with an emptiness that made her want to sob. Ruairí was careful to slow his pace and be gentle as he pressed into her rosebud. Once seated to the hilt, he rocked his hips, giving Senga a chance to adjust before he thrust. He kneaded the still-red flesh as he brought himself to release for a third time.

  “Do you ache for me, Senga? Do you need to come?”

  Senga sobbed as Ruairí eased her onto her back. He feared he’d pushed her too far when he saw her tearstained cheeks, but she opened her arms to him, silently asking for his embrace. She curled into his arms as he kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. They lay together, Ruairí dropping light kisses as his hand ran over her hip and backside, soothing away the last of the sting. Senga was nearly asleep when Ruairí’s cock stirred. She glanced up at him, and when he nodded, she stroked his length. When he was certain he had the stamina to go again, he rolled Senga onto her back. Easing into her slowly before pulling nearly all the way out before surging into her. Senga shattered as her nails dug into Ruairí’s back. He thrust into her over and over until he was certain her body was too wrung out to climax again. Senga drifted to sleep before Ruairí pulled out. He smiled as he settled beside her.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  It was midafternoon when Kyle pounded on the door. Senga remained asleep through the morning and past the noon meal, but Ruairí had slipped from their bed and examined maps of the Western Isles. He knew the region like the back of his hand, but the maps he studied showed the shifting tides by season, which told him the times of high and low tides. It had been years since he approached Lewis, having purposely avoided the MacNeils’ greatest rival. Ruairí opened the door enough to slip out before Kyle could see into the cabin and spy a naked Senga still stretched out on their bed.