Pirates, Passion and Plunder

by Victoria Vale

  The island village bustled with activity, and a crowd of about a dozen women, some with children in tow, soon gathered on the docks to wave at the incoming ship. William had told her that several of his crewmen had women and even families waiting on this small, almost private island, which was located in a seldom traveled area of the Caribbean, as it wasn’t near any shipping ports or larger settlements.

  I’m going to live on a secret, pirate island, she thought, with a sense of giddiness. No one from New Orleans had a clue where she was, most importantly her mother, and she would find the freedom and adventure she’d always craved.

  But was she really as free as she felt in this moment?

  She cast another glance at William, admiring his handsome profile as he worked alongside his men to see the ship safely docked in the port. Her relationship with William was going well, all things considered, but it was brand new and their marriage had been a hasty one. How much time did he spend on his island? He hadn’t told her yet and she hadn’t asked. A small knot of anxiety twisted inside her. Technically, she wasn’t free. She now simply resided in a different sort of cage than the one in which she would have found herself languishing had she married Lord Nose Drip. But, a cage was a cage.

  I own you.

  She recalled William’s declaration and her stomach abruptly flipped, even as heat gathered in her core. Was it wrong that she liked being owned by him? Or would the pleasure of it gradually fade with the newness of their relationship?

  Inexperienced with men, she hadn’t a clue. Her only true regret at this instant was that she hadn’t married for love. Instead, she’d married for...convenience? That didn’t quite cover the myriad reasons for her hasty marriage to William, but she supposed, for now, it would have to suffice.

  So lost in her thoughts was she that she didn’t notice the ship was fully docked, the plank set down, and crewmen were disembarking, until William came up beside her and touched her shoulder. She gave a slight gasp but did her best to cover it with a broad smile.

  “It’s beautiful here,” she said, feeling strangely shy.

  He grasped her hand and kissed it, his lips warm and his eyes bright with excitement. She wondered how long he’d been away from the island.

  “Welcome to Edmon’s Cove. Come, my bride, and I will escort you to the Bulwark. Your new home.”

  Unable to speak, she nodded and allowed him to guide her off the ship and into a waiting wagon, an open and rugged looking conveyance that was pulled by two horses. With a glance into the back, she noted their luggage had already been loaded. Not that they carried much with them. William had a single bag and she only had one herself, which contained two more dresses he’d purchased for her, as well as hair ribbons, sturdy leather slippers, and a silver handled hairbrush. He’d also promised her that though the island village was small, he would be able to find her anything else she desired once they got settled in his home. Though raised in luxury, she’d entered into their marriage with nothing but her now shredded wedding gown, a pair of gaudy but comfortable slippers, and the Pink Spanish Jewel—little good that would do her—and she appreciated that he had so quickly and thoughtfully provided for her.

  Her darker thoughts from minutes ago soon faded and her heart fluttered as she sat beside William on the hard bench seat of the wagon. He gripped the reins, flicked them with an air of expertise, and called out a command to the horses. They took off at a moderate pace and made their way beyond the village, traveling on a dirt road that was covered by the tall green canopy of the trees. How far into the forest did he live? He hadn’t said much about his home on the island.

  After about ten minutes of travel, they emerged from the trees and into a clearing filled with sunshine and more greenery. To her right, she glimpsed the ocean, clear and blue and magnificent. Apparently, they’d been traveling alongside the shoreline and she hadn’t even realized it. She hoped William’s house had a view of the ocean, but she didn’t dare voice this desire aloud, not wanting to seem ungrateful in the case that it didn’t. Even if his home rested in the depths of the jungle, it was a long journey from New Orleans and the life she’d sought to escape. In the end, that was all that mattered. At least that’s what she told herself.

  “We’re almost there,” he said, glancing down at her, his face bathed in the sun.

  “Does anyone else live at your house?” she asked. Her heart thumped faster. Maybe he had another woman, or a whole bunch of them waiting upon his return. She’d heard pirates could be lusty. Or perhaps he had children. Mon Dieu, she ought to have asked him some serious questions before they exchanged wedding vows.

  He gave her a strange look. “Just a few servants. Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious,” she replied at once, relief sweeping through her. She chided herself for her worry that he had other women. After all, he was the Sea Lord, a gentleman to his core, despite his status as a pirate. She eyed him, recalling the sensational newspaper articles she’d read about him over the years. Gentleman Pirate’s Crew Puts Out Church Fire. Sea Lord Destroys Rival Pirate Ship known for Terrorizing Passenger Ships. Gentleman Pirate Escapes Capture Again. Sea Lord Gives Gold to Orphanage.

  Well, he might engage in piracy, but he also possessed a benevolent heart and she couldn’t help but admire him for it. A smile touched her lips as she recalled her favorite headline of all: Sea Lord Targets Three Arlott Ships in July. He could steal from the Arlott family as much as he wanted, for all she cared. She repressed a shudder as she pictured Mr. John Arlott’s leering gaze and dripping nose. Thank God she hadn’t married the man.

  “Here we are,” William announced, a note of pride in his voice.

  Lizzy peered ahead, squinting down the suddenly narrowed lane that was lined by palm trees. Here we are, indeed, she thought, stifling a gasp as she stared at the large house William called home. As they drew closer, she realized it was the latest in architectural design and undoubtedly had been built recently. The Georgian-style home was a light cream color with white trimmings. There was a large front porch and as they ventured even closer, she realized the porch wrapped around the entire house. A servant stood on one of the two balconies, shaking a rug over the railing.

  “It’s wonderful,” Lizzy finally said, still awestruck by the beauty of both the island and her new husband’s seaside home. The ocean breeze wafted into her face and she smiled at the sight of the blue Caribbean waters sparkling under the midday sun. Everything about this place was perfect, including the man seated next to her.

  “I’m glad you like it,” William said. “I know you must be weary after our travels. I’ll have the servants prepare a bath for you at once, little dove.” He peered down at her, his gaze suddenly heated.

  “A bath sounds heavenly.”

  Immediately after William pulled the carriage to a stop, his trusted servants spilled out into the lane. A sense of relief rushed over him. He was glad to be home. He’d been away from the Bulwark for too many months. Now that he had a bride, the prospect of spending more time on the island appealed to him greatly. He had no wish to be parted from Lizzy anytime soon, though he would not, under any circumstances, bring her along while he targeted merchant ships. He wanted her here, at his home, where he knew she would be safest.

  After quickly introducing Lizzy to his servants, he requested a bath be prepared in the master bedroom at once. Then, he picked up his bride and carried her into the house.

  “I can walk just fine,” she said with a flush.

  “Yes, well, I have heard it’s tradition for a groom to carry his bride over the threshold.” He stared down at her, taking note of her increased breathing.

  “There’s nothing traditional about our marriage,” she said in an amused tone. “I paid you to kidnap me, then you kidnapped me for real and practically forced me to marry you. And, of course, there’s also the fact that you’re a pirate. Mon Dieu, what have I done?” A smile tugged at the corners of her sensuous lips.

  “You left out the par
t where I repeatedly ravished you on my ship.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  “Only on your ship?” she asked in a playful but challenging tone that made him want to pause in the entryway, push her stomach-down over a table, and lift her skirts to thrust deep into her perfect little quim.

  As he ascended the stairs, he gave her a stern look. Had he not been carrying her, he would have swatted her bottom. “Just wait until I get you naked in the master bedroom, little dove. Ravish does not even begin to describe my plans for you.”

  A small gasp, barely audible, left her as her lips parted and her eyes widened. His cock hardened and pleasurable tingles ran up his thighs, his balls tightening as his desire for her swelled. Mon Dieu, he had never craved a woman as intensely as he did Lizzy. He burned with need, ached for her beyond all reason.

  There were fliers featuring her likeness all over New Orleans. He suspected, given the value of the Pink Spanish Jewel, the search for Lizzy and her necklace would continue for years to come. A sense of responsibility for his bride grew within him. He would kill anyone who dared to even think of harming her. She was his.

  With a bit of sadness, he recalled how Lizzy’s mother hadn’t shown an ounce of care for her daughter during the kidnapping. Instead, the shrill woman had seemed more concerned about the bloody necklace Lizzy had worn around her neck. Furthermore, no one, not even Lizzy’s intended, Mr. John Arlott, had tried to save her. William only hoped he could fill the void within her and give her the tender care which she’d been denied. As her husband, it was his sacred duty to do so.

  He stroked her hair from her face, gently tucking the soft strands behind her ears, then leaned down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. She met his gaze as he pulled back, a storm of uncertainty in her eyes. Perhaps she hadn’t expected such tenderness from him. He couldn’t explain it himself. He wanted to own her, to drag his teeth along her flesh, slap her bottom, and see his marks upon her body; yet he also wanted to coddle her and keep her ensconced within the safety of his arms for all time.

  Mon Dieu, was he falling in love with the little dove?

  Unexpectedly, his throat began to burn and he hugged her tighter, burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply. She smelled of salt, sunshine, and the rosewater she’d used to cleanse herself on the ship.

  The servants quickly brought in a large tub and filled it with buckets upon buckets of steaming water. Once alone again with his bride, he carried her to the tub and stood her beside it. A slight shudder went through her and her eyes grew wide.

  “Um, don’t you have a servant who can attend to me?” Despite all the intimacies they had shared, she appeared uncertain over the prospect of bathing in his presence.

  “I will assist you, ma chérie,” he said, kneeling before her to remove her slippers.

  He rose to his feet next and turned her around to deftly unfasten the bodice of her gown. He soon slipped the garment over her shoulders, taking her thin chemise with it, and assisted her in stepping out of it.

  He turned her back around and peered down at her, his hardness pressing against the front of his trousers. She wore nothing but a pair of stockings, fastened to her thighs by delicate blue ribbons, tied in perfect bows.

  “If you don’t have a servant available to assist me, I shall manage on my own,” she said in a small, trembling voice. Her sudden shyness both amused and aroused him. Perhaps it made him a bit of a bastard, but he always found himself savoring the moments when she became nervous in the bedroom—like when he prodded her little rosette or instructed her to take his cock into her mouth.

  “As I said but a minute ago, I will assist you,” he said, raising an eyebrow at her, daring her to protest.

  To his surprise, she lifted her chin and glared at him. “As I said but a minute ago, I shall manage on my own.” She gestured to the door. “You’ve been away from your home for quite some time, I suspect, and I would think you would want to attend to matters on your estate. You may leave.”

  On the heels of her impertinent tone, he spun her around, propped one foot upon the tub, and bent her unceremoniously over his knee. “Naughty little madame,” he scolded, applying a rapid series of swats to her upturned bottom, which soon turned red under the punishing impact of his flattened palm. “Do you think that is an appropriate way to speak to your husband?”

  “Oh!” She gasped and kicked her stocking-clad feet back and forth as he continued spanking her with swift, hard swats. “Oh, please stop. I’m sorry!”

  He gave her five more slaps before setting her back onto her feet. She lowered her face, appearing exceedingly apologetic. “What exactly are you apologizing for?” he asked, wanting to drive this lesson home. “I want to hear you say it, young lady.”

  “I-I am sorry for the rude tone I used when speaking to you…” Her voice trailed off and a deep blush stained her face, practically rivaling the shade of her chastised derrière.

  “And?”

  “And I…I am sorry for trying to order you out of the room. This is your home, after all.”

  He placed a finger beneath her chin and stepped closer. “You needn’t feel so shy around me, little dove. We have been married for over a fortnight already and have shared many intimacies in the bedchamber. I’ve watched you sponge yourself off in the evenings. Why are you so nervous about taking a bath in front of me?”

  She blinked a few times, appearing deep in thought. “Well,” she finally said, “I-I guess it’s the newness of this place. I’m finally in your home. I’m not sure how to explain it, but I am feeling uncertain. We married in haste and spent the days afterward running away, trying to remain hidden from anyone who might recognize me before we made it to your ship. We’ve reached our final destination and the running away part, well, it’s no longer a distraction. I ought to feel both safe and relieved that our journey is over—and I do, I assure you, I do—but it’s as though the shock of our hasty marriage is finally hitting me.”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “I realize our marriage was not only a hasty one, but an unusual one. We don’t know each other especially well yet, but I promise you I intend to honor our wedding vows. You’re mine now, Lizzy, and I always, always take care of what’s mine.”

  Chapter 9

  His large hands were a warm caress on her legs as he removed her stockings, peeling them off her in a slow but deliberate fashion. He grasped her hand and helped her step into the steaming bathwater. She moaned in satisfaction and eagerly made to sit in the water—until her sore, punished bottom hit the surface with a sharp sting.

  “Ouch!” She shot up and gave William an accusing look.

  The knowing twinkle in his eyes told her he wasn’t surprised by her reaction. Sitting on the edge of the tub, he gestured at the water. Then, he picked up a washcloth. “Sit down in the bath, little dove. I’m going to help you get all clean. The sting will lessen after you’re submerged in the water for a little while, I assure you. Perhaps next time you won’t misbehave just before I bathe you.”

  Next time? Her head swiveled to the side as she turned to stare at him in shock. This would be a regular occurrence? In all her imaginings about what marriage would be like, she had never thought her husband would bathe her. Of course, she’d never in a thousand years believed she would find herself married to the Sea Lord, either.

  With a sigh, she lowered herself into the water. When her bottom impacted with the heat, she winced and closed her eyes, though she finally managed to sit down. Just as William had promised, the sting soon faded. She sighed again, this time entirely relaxed, as she sat back in the bathwater, luxuriating in warmth.

  William picked up a bottle one of the servants had left near the tub and poured in a generous amount of lavender soap. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent, and watched as he dipped the washcloth into the water. He reached for her and began cleansing her, starting with her arms before moving to her stomach, and then her breasts. Her heart fluttered at his nearness and her nipples hardened
at his touch. A moan built in her throat, but she forced herself to remain quiet. This was only a bath, she reminded herself, not a lovemaking session.

  Except, she realized, as her face flushed anew, she couldn’t help the throbbing heat that was building between her thighs. She squirmed in the tub and pressed her thighs close together, clenching her muscles as her desire pulsed harder and hotter. After a quick intake of breath, she peered at William, trying to figure out if her bosom really needed such a proper cleansing, or if he too was enjoying himself in the same manner as she.

  She almost whimpered when he finally moved to wash her back. Once he finished, he set the washcloth aside and gave her an intensely serious look that made her stomach do a little flip. It also caused the heat gathering in her womanly parts to throb unbearably. She didn’t understand why his sternness often left her in such a frenzied state of longing. She would give anything in this moment to have him reach into the water, delve a hand between her thighs, and stroke her until she saw stars.

  “Get on your hands and knees, Lizzy.”

  “Wh-why?”

  He leaned closer, his eyes darkening. “Because I intend to wash every part of you.”

  She felt her eyes widen and she opened her mouth to protest, but when he shot her another stern glance, a quiver raced across her bottom and she pressed her lips in a firm line. Her heart racing and her hands shaking a bit, she moved forward in the water and took up the awkward position he had requested. Shame heated her face. Her backside was now lifted out of the water, her bottom and everything between her thighs now on display.

  Tiny, pleasurable shivers ran through her as she waited with bated breath for William to touch her. She cast him a sidelong glance to discover he was only staring at her, though his eyes gleamed with satisfaction. She watched as he reached for a clean washcloth.

  “I want you to be a good girl and remain as still as possible while I clean you, mademoiselle,” he said, his voice a deep rumble that made her toes curl in the water. “If you prove disobedient, I will spank your wet, soapy bottom.”