“What?” The word was scarcely out of her mouth before Mack was also pulling away, rolling to lay on his back on the bed, a wide grin on his face.
Mack
The horrified expression on Bonny Blythe’s face nearly made him laugh aloud. Jake did love to defy her expectations, keeping her on her toes. Since Mack was already hard as a rock, ready to celebrate their victory, he had no problem going straight to his own pleasure. And if Blythe wanted to find hers, she’d have the opportunity, but apparently Jake didn’t want to make it easy for her.
Opening his pants, Mack stroked his cock while he watched Jake strip off Blythe’s clothes, leaving her completely naked and somewhat confused. Her nipples were hard and wet from their mouths, her pussy wet with interest, and she jumped when Jake slapped her ass.
Mack grinned. “Come here, love.”
Holding out the hand that wasn’t around his cock. When she grasped his fingers, he pulled her atop him, so that she was straddling him. The wet slit of her cunt settled atop the length of his cock, rubbing the sensitive underside. He groaned, gripping her thighs and rocking underneath her, rubbing himself between her slick folds.
“Oh…” Her eyes half-closed and she shuddered as his cock bumped against her clit, teasing her.
Also naked now, Jake clambered up on the bed behind her, slapping her bottom again, hard enough to make her cry out.
“On top of Mack, beautiful. I want to watch you ride him.”
Opening her eyes, Blythe licked her lips, obviously eager to follow Jake’s order. Mack wondered how she’d feel when she realized what Jake’s true intention was.
Chapter 15
Blythe
Sinking down onto Mack’s cock, Blythe wiggled and moaned, deliberately clenching her pussy around him. If the men were going to make her work for her orgasm, she was going to do what she liked. Especially since they’d made the mistake of allowing her to be on top. Settling onto Mack’s body, his cock fully embedded inside of her, she leaned forward slightly, rocking her pleasure spots against him.
A sharp slap to her bottom made her jerk upward.
“I said ride him, Blythe, not grind on him.” Jake’s voice was amused, but stern, and she knew that he would have no compunction about spanking her while she was atop Mack. He’d done it before, after all, purely for pleasure. She wasn’t sure how she’d like a harder punishment spanking while she rode Mack.
Obligingly, she worked her thighs, rising and falling on Mack’s cock, slowly and deliberately. When she was fully impaled, she circled her hips, rubbing her clit against him. Following Jake’s order, and yet taking her time the way she wanted to.
Mack reached up to play with her breasts, obviously unbothered by her slow pace, just enjoying watching her bounce up and down atop him. The mattress shifted beneath her knees and she knew Jake was climbing back onto the bed now that he’d unclothed.
She was expecting hands to cup her breasts, perhaps pull her hair, or maybe to spank her bottom again.
What she was not expecting was a hand between her shoulder blades, pushing her down, while a slick finger wormed between her bottom cheeks and pressed against her anus. She gasped, her pussy clenching around Mack’s thick rod, as Jake’s finger pushed into her ass.
The feeling of complete fullness made her shudder.
Mack’s hands moved from her breasts, sliding down her body to her ass, gripping the soft cheeks and pulling them open. She whimpered as Jake’s finger eased in and out of her. The new position made it impossible for her to ride Mack, leaving his cock buried inside of her while Jake pumped his finger back and forth before adding another one. His fingers were very slick, making it easy for him to stretch her open, although her muscles protested the intrusion.
“Too much!” she gasped, wriggling, and already knowing there was no way to escape their hold.
“You wanted us to touch you, remember?” Mack asked, nipping at her ear. A shiver went down her spine, making her clench again. This was utterly sinful.
Jake
With Mack holding Blythe in position, Jake was able to grip his cock, spreading the same oil he’d used on his fingers all over his length. It had been days since the first time he’d taken her ass, and since she was going to be wedged between himself and Mack, he wanted to ensure she would be able to take them both without too much resistance.
Her hot hole gripped his fingers tightly, her breath coming in little pants while he stretched her tight entrance. Mack’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of her bottom; his cock buried in her pussy just beneath.
When Jake slid his fingers from her little star and lined his cock up with the slightly gaping entrance, her body went rigid.
“You can’t!” She gasped out the words, squirming against Mack’s hold. “I can’t!”
“Oh yes, love, you can,” Jake assured her, taking her by the hips and thrusting in. She cried out, her muscles squeezing the head of his cock tightly. Mack groaned beneath her, enjoying the same clenching massage that Jake was, although he had his whole cock buried inside of her, whereas only the tip of Jake’s had made it inside of her on that first thrust. “You can and you will.”
The slick oil he’d coated his cock with made it possible for him to push deeper, despite the tight squeeze and the way her muscles worked to push him out. She didn’t protest again, but rather lay motionless between him and Mack, submissively taking his cock, panting for air as they filled her completely.
The ring of her entrance gripped him tightly, squeezing his cock like she was trying to choke it, her inner muscles playing over the length buried inside of her. She was hot, slick heaven… and it was only going to get better.
Blythe
She was dying.
Blythe didn’t think she could possibly be any fuller, not and still be able to breathe. The two cocks inside of her took up far too much space, igniting all sorts of confusing sensations that clashed inside of her.
Discomfort. Pleasure. Tingling. Stinging. Cramping. Burning. Sweet heat.
And then they began to move.
She cried out, writhing and shuddering between the two men as they carefully started to pump. Whatever oils Jake had used on his cock made the thick shaft glide easily, despite the tight fit. It burned as he moved back and forth in her tightest hole, but the heat felt good. It contrasted with the pure pleasure of Mack’s cock surging into her pussy, which was growing wetter with every thrust.
If they’d told her what they were going to do, she would have tried to refuse, sure that it wasn’t physically possible. But she would have been wrong. It was not only possible, it was rapturous.
Pressed between her two men, so very full of them, caught in a web of exquisite pain and agonizing pleasure, Blythe was in pure heaven.
Both he and Jake were moving harder, faster, taking their pleasure in her sweet body.
“Yes…” The word was soft, breathy, and she barely recognized her own voice. “Yes, oh yes…”
The harder he and Jake rode her, the more they lost the rhythm of their thrusts. Blythe writhed between them, her body clenching and spasming around them, pulling at their cocks. It was like they were no longer working her in tandem, but just intent on their own pleasure, which increased hers. Her climax came closer, ecstasy bubbling up inside of her.
She cried out and Mack groaned in time with her, his cock throbbing with each delicious thrust into her willing body. Pure pleasure burst from her center as he held her hips tightly, pulling her onto him fully and holding her there so that she couldn’t do more than rock against him as he emptied himself into her hot cunt.
She screamed with pleasure as her climax exploded, Jake still thrusting hard in and out of her ass while Mack held her tightly against his body, throbbing inside of her. The two sensations were so different but so pleasurable that she couldn’t do more than sob as la petite mort, the little death, completely consumed her. The pleasure followed her right down into the blackness, but even as she fell, she knew that the strong arm
s holding her would easily catch her and keep her safe.
1 year later
Blythe
The sea wind whipped her hair around her face, exasperating her, but Jake liked her hair down, so sometimes as a special treat she would ignore the tangling and let it fly free.
A year ago, she couldn’t have imagined finding a permanent berth on a crew, but the more time she’d spent with Mack and Jake, the less she’d wanted to leave them—and they felt the same. In fact, Jake had growled at her when she’d even suggested that they must be tired of her – growled! And then spanked her bottom red before setting Mack upon her to prove that they were no such thing. Only after Mack had worn her out with his mouth and cock did Jake take his turn, fucking her sore pussy while she begged him for a moment’s reprieve and then moving to her ass rather than letting her rest. Then he’d tied her to the bed and left her there, asleep. She’d woken up to Mack’s mouth on her pussy again, while Jake watched, before they’d taken her together.
Afterwards, Jake had growled in her ear that they would keep her too tired to think such silly thoughts. Blythe had agreed that it had been a very silly thought and promised never to think it again. And she hadn’t.
The crew wanted her to remain as well. They’d sworn up and down that they’d never been luckier since she joined them. Even Nate didn’t have a harsh word to say about her, especially since he’d been made captain of the Rawbone after Jake had decided to take the HMS Lion, now renamed the Siren of the Seven Seas, as his flagship and Mack preferred to move with him rather than captaining his own ship.
Of course, not wanting to be separated from Blythe might have played some small part in his decision. She wasn’t going to complain. She was happy again, in a way that she hadn’t thought possible after Thomas’ murder. But his death had been avenged and she’d found not one, but two good men whom lived up to his rather high precedent as a husband. When she was feeling whimsical, she liked to think that he would have approved.
The wind whipped across her face again and she sighed, pushing it back out of her eyes so she could admire the waves. A pod of dolphins leaped out of the water in the distance, making her smile.
“Your hair is down.” The rough growl in her ear was accompanied by the press of a hard male body behind her, pinning her against the rail. Blythe smiled, not turning her head.
Her hair was also a draw for Mack.
“I felt like feeling the wind in it,” she lied. The only reason she ever took her hair down was to draw one or both of her men to her.
Mack’s chest vibrated with laughter, because he knew she wasn’t telling the truth.
“Or perhaps you were trying to live up to your namesake?” he asked, his hand sliding over her stomach. She could feel his cock hardening as he rubbed it against her bottom.
Glancing to her right, she could see Jake across the ship, watching them. Even at that distance, she could feel the heat in his gaze. Any minute now and he’d pass off the helm of the Siren of the Seven Seas and come join her and Mack. Her two rogues. All hers.
Blythe tossed her head, twisting around in Mack’s arms so she could kiss him. “I don’t live up to the ship, the ship lives up to me,” she murmured.
“That she does, love, that she does,” Mack agreed, bending his head to run his lips over the soft skin of her neck.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jake prowling across the deck, her and Mack in his sights. Happiness filled her chest. She might be the Siren of the Seven Seas and a good luck charm for the crew, but she was the one who felt lucky.
“To my cabin, now,” Jake barked, hands on his hips, glaring at the two of them with an intense heat. Blythe gave him a soft, sultry smile, clutching Mack to her and holding him in place for a few more long moments while Jake watched them. His eyes flashed. “Now Blythe.”
“Aye aye, Captain,” she said.
She swung her hips the whole way there, her arse already tingling in anticipating of the spanking she knew was to come… and whatever other devious things Jake and Mack might think of to do to her. Grinning, she went to meet her fate.
About Golden Angel
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The Blond Devil of the Sea
by Celeste Barclay
Chapter 1
Caragh lifted her torch into the air as she made her way down the precarious Cornish cliffside. She made out the hulking shape of a ship, but the dead of night made it impossible to see who was there. She and the fishermen of Bedruthan Steps were not expecting any shipments that night. But her younger brother Eddie, who stood watch at the entrance to their hiding place, had spotted the ship and signaled up to the village watchman, who alerted Caragh.
As her boot slid along the dirt and sand, she cursed having to carry the torch and wished she could have sunlight to guide her. She knew these cliffs well, and it was for that reason it was better that she moved slowly than stop moving once and for all. Caragh feared the light from her torch would carry out to the boat. Despite her efforts to keep the flame small, the solitary light would be a beacon.
When Caragh came to the final twist in the path before the sand, she snuffed out her torch and started to run to the cave where the main source of the village’s income lay in hiding. She heard movement along the trail above her head and knew the local fishermen would soon join her on the beach. These men, both young and old, were strong from days spent pulling in the full trawling nets and hoisting the larger catches onto their boats. However, these men were not well-trained swordsmen, and the fear of pirate raids was ever-present. Caragh feared that was who the villagers would face that night.
She arrived at the mouth of the cave, which could only be accessed on foot during low tide. She slowed down and looked around, but neither saw nor heard anything from within the cave. The tide was shifting, so there were only a few minutes when she and the others could make their way inside. If they waited too long, the tide would rise too high for them to use the path while making it possible for whoever was on the ship to send rowers and dinghies into the cave. She met Eddie at the mouth, and they moved inside to the spot where the villagers always met to relight their torches, which were kept in where the light was not visible from the outside. She prayed the others all extinguished their lights; otherwise, they would lead whoever lurked in the distance directly to their hiding place.
At the sound of footsteps, Caragh froze until she heard the mimicked owl hoot to know it was friend, rather than foe, who entered. She returned the call and felt around for the box that held the torches and flints. She struck one of the stones and lit the first torch. She placed it into a sconce that had been fitted into the rock wall. She had lit the third torch as the men arrived at their meeting spot. She handed off torches, and they hurried to the back of the cave.
“Who do you think they are?” Derrell, the youngest of the fishermen, asked once they were among the crates and barrels they kept stashed away.
“I don’t know, but the boat is obviously too large for fishermen, and we aren’t expecting any shipments. It can’t be good.” Caragh responded.
“They must have seen us coming down the cliff, even if there weren’t that many torches. I pray they sail past the eddy that leads to the mouth of this cave.” Eddie whispered. At seventeen, he was tall and filled out, but had little experience dealing with smugglers and privateers. The older by three years, Caragh had only recently allowed him to stand watch, and then only after the older men pressured her. They argued that Eddie
was a man now, but to Caragh, he would forever be her little brother whose nose she used to wipe.
“We will know soon enough since the tide is rising quickly,” mused one of the older men.
“Help me pull the newest load into the back of the cave,” Caragh pointed. “It’s our most valuable bounty yet, and I don’t want it to be the first thing anyone finds.”
They all worked without saying a word, hand gestures sufficing to help them move barrels of Spanish and French wine, along with crates of spices and Dutch silk, into a natural alcove in the rear of the cave. Caragh was carrying a small chest of Spanish gold when they all froze at the sound of oars splashing through water. She scurried to hide the chest, but the sound of steel on steel told her whoever joined them was prepared for a fight.
She pulled the woolen cap low over her eyebrows and ensured she tucked all her strawberry-blonde hair under it. The night was cool, so it made sense that she wore a thick woolen surcoat. The added layer kept her warm while also disguising her feminine shape. She looked more like a lad than a woman of twenty. She counted on that boyish appearance until she got to know the privateers with whom she did business. It was only after she observed them interact with the older men that she made it known that she ran the village operation. Now she pulled a wickedly sharp dagger from her belt and inched forward. She came out of the alcove and brandished her knife at the man who rushed toward her.
The pirate was a giant who stood nearly a foot taller than Caragh, and his snarl revealed several missing teeth. He swung his sword at her, and the metal from both the sword and the hoop in his ear flashed. Caragh waited as long as she dared before she slashed her knife across the forearm of his sword arm. She drew back quickly when he reared back, but she lunged forward, striking when he was unprepared. Her knife entered just below his sternum, and she twisted as she pushed the blade up. Blood squirted toward her, but years of gutting fish left her unaffected as the warm liquid splattered her surcoat. The man staggered to his knees, but his eyes were unseeing. Caragh dashed to the man who fought her brother, leaping onto a nearby crate to give her the height needed to run her blade along the man’s throat.
Pirates, Passion and Plunder Page 26