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Pirates, Passion and Plunder

Page 17

by Victoria Vale


  “Fuck me hard, please… You spanked me hard, so you should fuck me just as hard. I want… Oh God, I need you to…. Aaah!

  Raven obliged her by ramming his cock deep again, angling it so as to continue to rub that place just inside. A fourth orgasm racked her slender body. She went wild beneath him, and this time his own climax was not far behind. His balls twisted, his semen rushed to fill her. With one last, surging thrust, they both tumbled forward to lie, boneless but still joined, across the mattress.

  Raven gulped in air and thanked the dear and generous Lord he believed must be up there and smiling down upon him, for putting Paulette Vêrtine on his ship. He could not recall having enjoyed a woman as much in years. No, he had never enjoyed a woman more than he had Paulette in the last few minutes. She was unique, a beautiful combination of exotic sensuality and lusting curiosity. She craved pleasure, as he did, and was willing to play his perverted games in pursuit of it.

  A gift indeed, and he meant to have some fun with Paulette Vêrtine before taking his leave of her in Santa Laura.

  Chapter 5

  Paulette lay on her side in the pirate captain’s bed. She faced the wall. The painted planks of the hull rocked steadily a few inches from her nose as the ship ploughed through the waves. Behind her, the captain slept, one arm and a leg draped possessively across her body.

  She had never shared a bed with a man before, at least not in this manner, to sleep, rather than tumble across the mattress in a sweating, grunting parody of passion.

  To say the handsome pirate had surprised her would be a gross understatement. He had utterly bemused and astonished her. His skill in lovemaking, if what they had done could be so called, was the stuff of legends. He was as handsome as the Devil, with tricks to match. From the moment she had agreed to his wicked suggestion that she accompany him to his cabin, her body had not been her own. He had controlled her, and he had done so with exquisite skill and a touch that sent her soaring.

  After, he had gathered her in his arms and kissed her neck, then her shoulders, then he had rolled her onto her back and kissed her mouth until she was uncertain that she could recall her own name. That was another novel experience. Giles Chirac had never exhibited the slightest hint of tenderness, nor had she expected it of him. With this pirate, it was all so very different.

  He had risen from the bunk, eventually, and righted his clothing. Whilst she was naked, he had remained almost fully dressed, but Paulette no longer found this to be a problem. He had left her sated, purring like a contented kitten. She had no complaints whatsoever.

  The captain had opened a chest and selected a clean, white shirt. He tossed it onto the bed and told her she could wear it. The fabric was soft and carried his musky scent. Paulette had pulled it over her head and folded back the sleeves. When she stood, the garment fell almost to her knees.

  “I have matters to attend to so I must leave you for a while. I shall ask Charlie to bring you some food. You may move freely about the cabin, but do not venture beyond.”

  “May I read your books, Captain?” She had noticed he owned a copy of Romeo and Juliet, a play she had not read before but would like to.

  “You can read?” He had seemed surprised.

  “Yes, but only in English.”

  “You are French, I think. From your name, and the faint trace of an accent.”

  “Yes. My mother was French and my father English. Although I was born out of wedlock, I grew up in my father’s home. My mother was his housekeeper. I was educated there. My tutor was English, so…”

  “I see. A scholar as well as a seductress. I am impressed. Please, make use of my library as you wish. I shall return when I can.”

  The food brought by Charlie was palatable enough, though Paulette felt a little less salt would have been in order. Her mother had taught her to cook, and she enjoyed it, though had had scant opportunity of late. Her duties at the mayor’s mansion did not extend to the kitchens. She thanked the lad for the meal, a bowl of stew consisting of vegetables and, she suspected, some sort of fish, and settled down to enjoy it. Charlie had left her a generous lump of bread to soak up the juices, and that was as fresh as could be expected after days at sea. She left the mug of dark ale alone, preferring to quench her thirst with the water remaining in the pitcher.

  Her stomach full, she settled on the bunk with Romeo and Juliet. Darkness fell, and she lit a small oil lamp in order to continue reading. She had reached the start of the third act when the door opened.

  Her pirate had returned.

  “Sir?” Paulette set the book aside and scrambled from the bunk. She stood before him, her head bowed.

  He lit an additional lamp situated on the table he used as his desk and slanted her a glance. “My given name is Rafe, though most call me Raven.”

  She lifted her chin, surprised. “You are named after your ship?”

  “The ship is named for me,” he corrected.

  “I see. Then you must be named Raven for your dark hair and forbidding nature.”

  He laughed. “My full name is Rafe Auvin, and I suspect Raven to be the closest some of my fellow buccaneers could come up with. Most speak English, as you may have observed, and little or no French. This was the nearest equivalent they could arrive at.” He eyed her with interest. “You find me forbidding?”

  “Absolutely, Sir.”

  “Good. I shall endeavour to keep it that way. Did you enjoy your food?”

  “I did. Have you eaten? There is some remaining, or perhaps Charlie could—”

  “I am not hungry. I ate with the men.”

  “Oh, well, in that case, I—”

  “Paulette, do you think, if I were to lie naked on my bed, that you might be so kind as to straddle me and sink your delectable cunt onto my cock?”

  She sensed the blush rising from her chest, but she answered readily enough. “I…yes, Sir. I mean Captain Raven. I believe I could manage to do that.”

  “I rather imagined you would.” He sank onto the low stool to tug off his boots, then proceeded to drag his billowing white shirt over his head. He cast another look her way, his eyes gleaming with wicked desire. “And just ‘Raven’ will suffice. Paulette, you are beginning to appear overdressed.”

  Laughing, she pulled her own shirt off and dropped it on top of his on the chest. She knelt on the bed, her interest riveted on his trousers as he unfastened them then shoved them down to his feet. He stepped out and flung the pants towards the chest. Gloriously naked, his wonderful cock erect and proud, he dropped down on the bunk behind her. “Do your worst, girl.”

  Paulette turned to face him and stretched out her hand. She was curious, intrigued by the thick, solid girth of him and the presence of small droplets of moisture gathering at the tip of his penis. Giles had never seemed so interesting, but everything about Raven’s masculine body fascinated her. He was all angles and planes, the solid muscle of his shoulders, the taut ridges of his abdomen. He exuded strength and power and could have snapped her in two with his bare hands yet was capable of giving exquisite pleasure, too.

  “May I touch?” she requested politely.

  He turned his head to regard her. “I suppose that would be fair,” he conceded.

  Paulette required no further urging. She wrapped her small hand around the shaft, and, realising that she could not reach all the way around, she brought her other hand into the mix as well. She slid both up and down the length of him, pausing with each pass to rub her fingers through the droplets of moisture and smear them over the entire crown. She leaned in, inhaled deeply, enjoying the musky scent. She recalled the tang of him when he had fucked her mouth, the slightly salty, metallic taste. On impulse, she leaned down even farther to lick the head. She was rewarded by a muttered curse and the lurching of his erection in her hands.

  “Girl, that feels heavenly, it truly does. But right now, I would prefer you to sink your hot, tight pussy onto me. I fear I may have to beat you with my belt if you do not get on with that at once.


  “My apologies, Sir,” she murmured. Despite the lingering soreness from her earlier spanking, she was beginning to think that his dire threats of further beatings, whippings, and worse, were not to be taken too seriously. He would not harm her. She kissed the crown of his cock, then knelt up straight again. “Sir, I wonder, should I do this facing you, or should I face away?”

  “Face me,” he instructed.

  Paulette lifted one knee and planted it on the other side of his hips. He was so big that her pussy rubbed against his thigh, a sensation she found most exhilarating.

  He offered her his hands to brace herself as she edged forward and into position. She reached down and grasped his shaft again, and this time angled it so the head rested between her pussy lips. Slowly, carefully, she lowered herself onto him.

  Her body stretched around him. It was tight, too tight. Paulette grimaced and met his stormy grey eyes.

  “I… I’m not sure if I can—”

  “Take your time, girl. I am in no hurry and I do not care if it hurts, but you will do as I have told you.”

  She chewed on her lower lip, her attention focused entirely on her task. Inch by excruciating inch, she lowered herself until her still tender buttocks rested upon his thighs. Tearful, she met his stern gaze.

  “You did well. Now, squeeze.”

  Her inner walls were so stretched she would not have believed it possible, but it was. She clenched and unclenched, gripping his huge cock within her. The sensation was intense but not unpleasant. Her interest stirring, she rocked, cautious at first, then gyrated her hips from side to side.

  “See, it is not so bad. We will make an accomplished slut of you yet.” His tone was a low, tortured growl. “Does this help at all?”

  He slid one hand between them and settled the pad of his middle finger on the tip of her clit. Her own movements now rubbed her sensitive nub against his digit, sending crackles of sensuous delight snaking through her body. Paulette groaned, wriggled harder, faster, pressed her clit more firmly onto his hand.

  “Sir, I need to come. May I…?”

  “You may, and make it quick as I have other plans for you.”

  Her climax curled and reared from deep within. Paulette moaned, let her head fall back, and surrendered to the rush of pleasure. She ground her body onto his, her inner walls contracting in violent spasms, extracting every last shiver of friction. Her climax subsided, only to be rekindled by the caress of his finger on her engorged clit. The strangled moan came from deep within her throat as pleasure soared again.

  At last, the tremors waned. Her body settled, her senses returned. She ventured a peep at his smug features.

  “Now that we have that out of the way, I expect you to remain calm and reasonably controlled for the rest.”

  “Thank you. Yes, I… I shall try, if that is what you want.”

  His lip quirked in a sensual grin. “It is. I am looking for quiet dignity from you. Can you manage that, my slut, do you think?”

  Paulette somehow doubted that she could if her experiences of the last few hours were any indication, but she would certainly attempt it.

  Raven grasped her hips and lifted her from him.

  “Turn around and kneel, head down, arse up, as you did so prettily for me earlier.”

  This she could manage. Paulette arranged herself as required, then watched over her shoulder when Raven left the bunk and strolled, gloriously and unashamedly naked, across to the chest where his clothes were stored. He opened it and retrieved a small bottle, then returned to sit beside her.

  “What is that?” Paulette asked.

  “Olive oil. It is good as a lubricant.”

  “Why do you need that, Sir?”

  He smiled. “I shall show you. Believe me, you will be glad of it. Now, I would appreciate your help if you would.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she replied warily. He had required no assistance from her up till now.

  “I wish to access your rear hole. You will reach back and part your buttocks for me.”

  “Oh.”

  “Is there a problem, Paulette? I have already explained all you need to do is obey me.”

  “I know, but… I am not sure I would like you to…to…”

  “I do not care what you like or do not like. Your role here is to do as you are told. So, show me your delightful little arse so that I can prepare you to receive my cock in there.”

  “Your…? Oh no, no, no, no…” She started to crawl away, but he was quicker and wrapped his arm about her hips to hold her in place.

  “Yes, Paulette. I have promised not to harm you, and I expect you to do as I say. You know this.”

  “But I…”

  “I shall open you up with my fingers first and use plenty of oil to make the experience easier for you. But this is happening, and you will submit. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Do you mean to beat me if I refuse?”

  “No, I do not. If you refuse, you will spend the rest of the voyage to Santa Natalia unmolested, and on our arrival there I shall see you safely ashore. It is your choice, Paulette. Do we proceed, or do we not?”

  Curiosity, fear, lust—all warred within her. She contemplated the next few weeks aboard the Raven’s Claw and knew her decision was already made.

  “I… I will try, Sir. We…we proceed.”

  “Good girl. Now, we shall see how brave you can be, if you set your mind to it.”

  Paulette was not entirely sure she would term her current state bravery, but she let that pass. He had no need to repeat his instruction. She settled herself back as he had commanded and reached both hands behind her to grasp her buttocks and spread them apart.

  “Nicely done, girl. Now, be still and trust me. Remember, quiet dignity.”

  She did not find anything remotely dignified about her current situation, but she chose not to remark on that either. Instead, she tried not to flinch as he trickled a few drops of the oil onto her exposed anus.

  He worked the oil into the tight ring of muscle, pressing and teasing until her hole slackened just enough to permit him to insert one finger. This was much the same as had happened earlier, and Paulette knew she could handle it. She sighed and allowed her body to relax even more, permitting him entry. Raven applied more oil, both to her hole and to his finger. He inserted it again, twisting and swirling to encourage her to open even more. The sensation was peculiar, not unpleasant but not quite nice either. It was intense, and intimate, and Paulette was quite convinced such a practice would earn her a lifetime of Hail Marys were she ever to be so foolish as to confess it to a priest.

  Best not to trouble the dear Lord, she decided. He is surely much too busy to be interested in what I may get up to. Instead, she gritted her teeth when Raven inserted a second finger, then a third.

  Now, this really hurt. Her arse felt to be burning, stretched and forced open around his determined digits. Raven was not being unduly rough with her, but neither was he taking this slowly. He handled her with confident skill and, she imagined, practised expertise.

  Has he done this to many other women?

  The idea that she might be just one of a succession of women to share Raven’s bed troubled and upset her. She would not ask.

  He plunged his fingers in and out of her arse, aided by the slick oil. It was less painful now, and what hurting remained felt oddly good to her. Paulette marvelled at her body’s capacity to adapt, to accept, to endure. To find pleasure in the most decadent and wicked ways.

  He pulled his fingers from her and moved to kneel at her rear. Paulette tensed, despite her growing arousal.

  “Be still, and trust me,” Raven murmured, at the same time reaching around and beneath her to caress her clit.

  “Yes, Sir.” Pure pleasure ricocheted about her, setting her senses alight. In that moment, she would have denied Raven nothing.

  Her arse parted to accept the head of his cock. Pleasure and pain collided, but pleasure won. Pleasure always won. Paulette softened, widen
ed, reached for the orgasm which danced just out of reach as Raven pressed more of his immense cock inside her tight, virgin channel.

  “More, I need…oh! Oh…” Paulette moaned, not sure what she was begging him for, though her need was dire.

  The pain built. He was deep now, deeper, deeper still. His clever fingers worked their magic. Her clit throbbed, greedy and demanding. She could not prevent the thrusting of her hips, the sobs of agony and ecstasy as both swirled through her veins.

  His balls collided with her inner thighs. He was fully seated, and Paulette truly believed she might split in two, but she no longer cared. Pleasure dangled, a bright, glittering light just inches from her grasp. She reached, stretched for her prize, let out one final, despairing groan, and found her release.

  Waves of delight cascaded over and through her. Sensation flooded her veins, her body convulsed, helpless, overwhelmed. Paulette cried out, went rigid, then would have collapsed onto the mattress but for Raven’s strength supporting her. He held her until the tremors of her climax ebbed, then he drew his cock back halfway and drove it deep again. Paulette could only groan, her channel tight, hurting, burning, but accepting that she was his to use as he pleased.

  He thrust again, then a third time. His guttural shout echoed around the cabin. The heat of his semen filled her. Paulette was complete.

  He withdrew and brought a soft cloth from somewhere, used it to gently clean her. She lay still, accepted his ministrations, his murmured appreciation.

  “How are you, wench?” he enquired, his lips brushing her ear.

  “I…it was good. Thank you, Sir.” She had nothing more to say, and perhaps no further words were needed. She rolled onto her side and drifted into a contented slumber.

  Chapter 6

  “Cap’n. Cap’n, come quick!”

  The yelling outside his cabin was accompanied by furious pounding on the door. Raven opened his eyes and peered through the half-light of an already sweltering dawn. He judged the hour to be no later than five-thirty. He would normally be up and about by now, but he had preferred to enjoy for a few more minutes the soft warmth of the female curled up beside him.

 

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