“A pirate who plunders. I do believe we’ve had this part of the conversation before.”
“Caragh, I may not have exercised the best judgement by finishing inside you, but I am not utterly insensitive or uncaring about your well-being. Breaking your maidenhead caused you enough pain. I am certain you will be sore in the morning, if not from the bruises you already sport, then from how rough I was this last time. I think we’ve both had enough for one night.”
Caragh swung her legs around so she could sit then inch off the bed.
“Do you now? Is this one of those times where you are protecting me, and I’m supposed to just trust your judgement? I doubt you give this much consideration to your whores.”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, it is. And you are no whore.”
“I just chose to act like one. This is one of those times I choose to object. I don’t need you deciding what my body can or cannot handle. I can appreciate your concern, but my body is still my own to do with as I choose.”
“And you choose to be inducted to every sinful manner of carnal pleasure in one night.”
“I didn’t say that. I said that it’s my body, and I decide what to do with it.”
Caragh needed space from him, but the cabin was not large enough when he seemed to take up so much of it. She moved to the porthole and once again looked out into the dark abyss. She sensed him behind her, even though he had not made a sound as he crossed the room.
“I am controlling. I know that. It’s how I’ve survived and even prospered, but you don’t like me taking away your choices. I suppose I’ve done enough of that, considering where we stand having this conversation.”
Caragh did not look at him but nodded once. Rowan tested the waters and cupped her shoulders with his hands. Rather than pull away, she sank back into the protective cocoon his broad shoulders created around her narrower frame. If anyone ever asked her how she could throw away all her modesty and every lesson in gentility that her mother had painstakingly taught her, all in the space of one night, she would not have had a reasonable explanation except her intuition screamed she was right.
“I just wanted to return the favor. You gave me pleasure unlike anything I ever imagined possible. I couldn’t have conceived it would be like it was. I wanted to do something for you since you have done so much for me tonight.” Caragh’s hushed words filled the silent cabin. She shifted as she felt his semi-erect cock press between the globes of her backside. She knew it was the result of their differences in height, but she did not regret it.
“Mo leannan, you don’t owe me anything. You have given me far more than you realize. It was more than just your maidenhead. To say I enjoyed this evening seems far too mild a statement.”
“But you like it the other way,” Caragh insisted.
Rowan smiled behind her when she could not bring herself to openly say exactly what she was so eager to do.
“Caragh, it is enjoyable for a man. It’s different, and it brings me to a climax, but I have done it that way out of necessity, not desire.”
Caragh spun around, and Rowan was taken aback by the thundercloud that appeared across her face.
“So that’s it. This was to be just one night. You got what you wanted it. And now what? You hand me over to your crew? You wash your hands of me.”
“What?” Rowan could not keep up with the sharp turns her mind took. “Caragh, where did you come up with that notion? I never said anything of the sort.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Well, someone needs to, because I haven’t a clue what you’re getting at.”
Caragh looked at him as though he was a simpleton, and Rowan felt his pride being pricked.
“You regret spilling in me. We both know that. That’s why you pulled out this last time, but that can’t be nearly as satisfying. The logical solution, if you plan to bed me again, is for you to use the same method you usually do. If you’re not willing to do that, then it must be because you don’t intend to couple with me again. It seems rather simple logic. I don’t know why you can’t keep up.” Caragh snapped the last part of her tirade.
Rowan stood to his full height even though he knew it did nothing to intimidate her.
“You’re entering dangerous water. If you don’t want another spanking, this one not for either of our fulfillment, you had best change your tone.”
“Bah,” she waved her hand as she tried to step around him.
He was on her in an instant. He pulled her along until he returned to the chair he had sat in earlier that night. He drew her across his lap.
“You have a waspish tongue, and I can think of far more enjoyable uses for it than listening to your illogical vitriol. I warned you about disobedience. I should have warned you about disrespect, too.” His hand crashed down across her backside, and this time she cried out. He knew everything between her navel and knees had to be sore. “I never said I would or wouldn’t bed you again. If after what we shared tonight, you think I would just walk away, then it meant very little to you. I have no intention of letting you go anywhere but back to our bed.”
He rained down a spanking that alternated sides and position as he let the use of the word “our” for a second time settle over him. Caragh did not fight him, but she kept trying to reach back to cover herself.
“Move your hands aside, Caragh, before you hurt yourself.”
“You’re the one hurting me.”
“It may sting, but I am not hurting you. You deserve this and more for your words, your tone, and what you insinuated. You insulted both of us, and I won’t tolerate that.”
Caragh kicked her legs as a series of particularly harsh blows caught the underside of her bottom.
“How can you be angry at me when I was trying to give back to you what you gave me? How was I not supposed to think you don’t want me when you rejected my offer? What am I supposed to do if I can’t please you? I’m here at your largesse. When you tire of me, what then? You cast me adrift? Set me ashore in some strange place? Or pass me along?”
Rowan stopped short at both the logic of her concerns as well as the real distress in her voice. He rubbed the burn from her skin as he took in the pinkened flesh. He appreciated the sight and was satisfied she understood his expectations about how to speak to him, but he could also appreciate her fear. More had transpired in a single night than Rowan could remember since the night he fled his clan. He helped Caragh to her feet and then scooped her into his lap. He stroked her hair as she relented and broke into heaving sobs. He cooed and held her until the sobs lessened to periodic hiccups and sniffles.
“I’m sorry, Rowan.”
Rowan was not sure he wanted the apology he had planned to demand. There was as much defeat mixed into her tone as there was remorse. He did not want to extinguish the flame that drew him like a moth.
“It’s been a long night, mo leannan. Too much has happened, and neither of us is speaking clearly. Before either of us says or does something we can’t take back, let us get some sleep.”
Weariness made Rowan feel much older than his twenty-five years. He carried Caragh back to the bed and pulled down the covers before gently laying her down. He climbed in beside her and pulled the blanket over them. He could feel the tension pouring off her, and he was sure she was confused. He could only imagine what her vivid mind was conjuring in that moment. He slid his arm beneath her shoulders and rolled her toward him. He drew her arm over his belly as the hand beneath her slid down to stroke the heated skin of her backside.
They lay in silence for a long time, both aware the other was not yet asleep. Rowan stroked her hair, and she snuggled closer and sighed. Rowan marveled at the pint-sized package of contradictions that shared his bed. He was not a devout man, so he was not sure if God had granted him a gift by bringing Caragh into his life like a Highland blizzard, or if it was the Devil taunting him for growing soft after a lifetime of misdeeds that had made them bosom buddies. Soft lips pressed a kiss against his chest bef
ore he felt her finally relax into a deep sleep. He continued to stare at the ceiling as he tried to unravel everything that transpired that night.
He had successfully raided the hamlet he had been told about. He had nearly a hold full of treasure now. He had captured what he thought was a lad only to discover that not only was the person not a lad, she was not even a lass. She was a woman with ripe curves and spirit to match. He had watched her change from a hissing and spitting cornered animal to a natural seductress. He had surrendered as much as she had when they came together. The woman, the unexpected gem he discovered, unleashed emotions he thought he no longer possessed. Then when he did discover he had the capacity to care, rather than reject it, he seemed to open his heart to it. She provoked him in ways no one else ever had, and it had not yet been a full night. He was sure he lived a lifetime in the hours since he met Caragh, yet his need to care for her and protect her pulsed through his every vein and artery. She had created anger in him unlike anyone else, but he suspected that their unfamiliarity with how to communicate was the culprit rather than either of their intentions.
Rowan laid wondering what he should do with the water nymph snoring lightly beside him. He was sure he would not let her go any time soon. He worried about how he would be able to protect her once his crew discovered there was a woman aboard. He knew they were a superstitious lot, and having a woman aboard a ship was believed to be bad luck. There was an honor among thieves, and while he had the final word on all decisions, his crew were allowed to express their opinions when the matter concerned them all. Caragh would be a matter that would concern them all, however indirectly. He had no intention of letting her mingle with the men. It was this last thought that played through his mind as he drifted asleep just before dawn.
Chapter 5
Rowan awoke to a warm body next to him, and he was disoriented for a moment. He always slept alone. No matter what merrymaking he engaged in, he never shared a bed with a woman. He looked down to find sparkling emerald eyes looking up at him. Memories from the night before flooded him, and he felt his face split into a broad smile. He lifted Caragh’s chin and kissed her gently. He felt as much as heard her sigh. She relaxed against his body; their legs tangled together. He rolled her onto her back and used his knee to nudge her legs apart. He clasped her arms over her head just as he had on the table the night before. Her knees fell open wider as she welcomed him into her body. She wrapped her legs over his, and her eyes drifted closed as he slowly circled his hips.
“Look at me, mo Caragh.”
Her lashes fluttered open. She searched his eyes–for what he was not sure, but whatever she saw reassured her.
“Let go of my hands, Rowan.” She did not try to pull loose, but rather waited. When he paused, she continued. “I want to touch you. I need to.”
Once her hands were free, they explored the muscles of his back as they shifted below his heated skin when he thrust into her. Her hands made their way to his rock-hard backside. She gripped him much as he had her the night before. Rowan covered her face and neck with petal-soft kisses as he took his time. For the first time ever, Rowan wanted to go slowly and draw out both of their pleasures. Normally, he had little time or interest in lingering. Tupping a woman was like scratching an itch. It was something to be done quickly and once resolved, it was a thing of the past. The night before, he had been so enraptured with the sensations Caragh created in him that he could not have slowed down to save his life. His need had bordered on obsession, but this morning was different. He found he liked waking to her next to him. He wanted to take his time and show her that this encounter was different. The night before had been primal and savage, perhaps the remnants of battle lust for them both after the fight in the cave and the mad swim through the icy waters.
“Caragh, are you not too sore for this?”
“Don’t stop, please. Rowan, I need you.” Those four words melted the final ice around his heart. He knew she meant in the physical sense, but the last person to have said those words had been his mother, many years ago. He never thought to hear them said to him again.
“I won’t, mo ghràidh.” My dear.
A look passed between them that said more than words could. Caragh pushed aside his blond hair as she pulled Rowan down on top of her. He was careful not to settle all his weight onto her, but she nestled her face into the crook of his neck. She fluttered kisses there as she moaned. They both felt their release creeping from low in their bellies. Rowan forced himself to hold back until she cried out his name, then he pulled out and spilled on her belly as he called out hers. He rolled off her and brought her across his chest. They drifted back to sleep until the sunlight filled the cabin, and they could no longer ignore the outside world.
Rowan dragged himself from the bed and found a cloth next to the pitcher of water he kept for his morning ablutions. He dipped it into the water knowing it would be freezing, but he lathered soap onto it before coming to sit on the edge of the bed. For the first time, he noticed the blood that stained the inside of Caragh’s thighs. He looked down to see traces still remained on him. He looked back to see that her face was flushed with humiliation. He tried to press the cloth against her, but she pushed his hand away while snatching the cloth from him. She glared at him, but he refused to turn away.
“Let me take care of you, Caragh.”
“Why? Because you feel guilty all of a sudden now that you’re reminded I was a virgin? You don’t need to.”
Rowan shook his head only half surprised that she was once again defensive. “Let me take care of you because I want to. Because when I said I would ensure your well-being, I didn’t just mean from sword- brandishing pirates or your own impulsive inclinations. I meant the little things, too, like this.”
Rowan held his hand out until she relented with a huff. He gently passed the cloth over her as he cleaned away the remnants of her innocence. Then he pressed the cool cloth against her cunny. She hissed but sighed as the cool moisture soothed her skin, which was unused to such rough treatment as it had received the night before.
“I will call for some someone to bring hot water, and you can have a proper bath.”
Caragh laughed, but it held little mirth.
“And just who are you going to summon? I’m supposed to be your cabin boy. Wouldn’t I be the one to fetch your bath water?” She sat up and moved to stand on wobbly legs. “You’re going to have to let the crew know I’m not a lad. After what they must have heard last night and this morning, surely they’re wondering what manner of man you’ve become. They need to know you haven’t taken up buggering lads.”
“You have a foul mouth.”
“I have an honest one, and that was the politest term I know for that.”
“How do you even---” Rowan’s lips thinned. “Let me guess. Because you frequent taverns.”
“Not taverns. Just the one tavern in my village.”
“You seem to have gained quite an education in that one place.”
“No more than I learned here.” This time a hint of humor clung to her sarcasm.
Rowan gazed at his palm as if he was curious about it. He scratched his palm and looked at her.
“My palm is already itching to spank you again, mo leannan.”
Rowan watched as Caragh retreated even though she did not take a step. She shook her head, but at Rowan’s look of confusion, she clarified.
“It didn’t bother me last night. Not in the heat of the moment, but I don’t want your false endearments. Ones that you use with the rest of them.”
Rowan came to his feet and pulled her into his embrace, but she would not relax.
“I’ve never called another woman any of those endearments. It never crossed my mind before. I don’t say things unless I mean them.”
He stepped away to pull fresh clothes on and slipped out of the cabin before Caragh knew what to do. She sat heavily on the bed and looked around the cabin that felt neither like a prison nor a home.
Chapt
er 6
Caragh was not sure how long she sat there staring into space before a knock at the door roused her. She found her boots where she had dropped them the night before and pulled out the knife she kept in the sheath stitched to the leather. She crept to the door just as it opened. She was prepared to lunge with the blade pointed high, but at the last moment she realized it was Rowan. She stumbled, losing her balance. The knife skidded across the floor as Rowan caught her still-naked body. He blocked the door so whoever stood behind him could not see in, then stepped in far enough to kick the door closed behind him.
“Trying to kill me now? You could have done that more easily in my sleep,” Rowan chided.
“I didn’t know who was at the door.”
“And someone who’s come to do you harm usually knocks?”
Caragh eyes narrowed to slits. “I don’t know what your band of miscreants are like, and you weren’t here, so I did what I had to do to protect myself.”
Rowan hated to admit she was right, but he was pleased to know she would not just open the door to anyone. He pulled the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders before opening the door. He stood in front of Caragh, using his much larger frame to shield her from the inquiring eyes of the three men who brought the tub and buckets of steaming water into the cabin. When they hauled in the last bucket, Rowan dismissed them and their inquisitiveness with a jerk of his head toward the door.
“There is soap on the washstand, and I will pull out more linens.” He moved to another chest in the corner where Caragh could see drying linens and bedding neatly folded and stacked inside. “I will leave you to it, then.”
Caragh noticed Rowan seemed uncomfortable for the first time. He had explored her most intimate parts the night before and helped wash them this morning, and now, oddly, he was embarrassed. She cocked an eyebrow at him and waited.
Pirates, Passion and Plunder Page 30