Pirates, Passion and Plunder

by Victoria Vale

  “Yes, I recall saying that.”

  “I-I took it to mean, the ne-necklace. I thought you were bragging about the Pink Spanish Jewel and not m-me.”

  “So you are prone to jump to conclusions?” he said, raising a dark eyebrow at her.

  “Y-yes, or at least I did today. I am s-sorry. Truly sorry.”

  “I find it interesting and also disappointing that the conclusion you jumped to put me into a negative light. And furthermore, that you ran away, into a storm no less, rather than to bring your concerns to me.”

  Lizzy’s heart sank. When he put it that way, she really did sound like a louse. She hung her head and wished she could sink into the water of the tub and hide. William deserved better. He deserved better from her.

  A shiver ran up her body.

  “I believe you have avoided the inevitable long enough, little dove.” William lifted her from the tub and stood her between his knees while he dried her off. As usual, he was very thorough, rubbing the towel in every crevice of her body. This time he paid particular attention to the rosette of her bottom opening. She knew what that meant. Another shiver ran through her, but not from the cold this time.

  When William set the towel aside, she stared at the floor, a tear ran down her cheek. He tipped her face up until their eyes met. “Little dove,” he said, brushing away her tear with his thumb, “what troubles you? I know you do not wish to be punished, but have I ever been unfair in my discipline?”

  “N-no,” she said. “You are always fair and kind to me.” She gulped in a shuddering breath. “And I was neither of those things to you. Y-you deserve b-better.”

  “Better?” He drew back in surprise. “Better than you? The finest jewel in all of New Orleans?”

  “D-do you really think I am that? The f-finest jewel?”

  He cupped her face between his palms and stared deep into her eyes. “Lizzy, my little dove, you are the finest jewel in all the world and I am the luckiest man on the seven seas to have you as my bride. I thank the heavens every day that you wandered into Pirate’s Alley in that ridiculous disguise. I think that is when I began to fall in love with you.”

  “F-fall in love with me?” She stared at him in shock.

  “Why yes, little dove. Is that so far fetched? Do you think I would run out into the rain and wind to untangle the hair of just any woman?” He smiled at her and she couldn’t help but smile back.

  “I-I love you, t-too,” she whispered. “I-I should have known better than to think you only wanted the necklace. I don’t know if I will ever stop being sorry about that.”

  “Ah, my sweet, I have the answer to that. Punishment and absolution. All will be forgotten. Now, let us get on with things, the sooner to get back to you telling me how much you love me.”

  She threw her arms around him and hugged his neck. “I love you so much, it hurts.”

  Moments later, on all fours upon their bed, Lizzy could not help but consider the irony of that phrase. Naked, except for the cool weight of the Pink Spanish Jewel around her throat, her bottom heated as William swatted her backside. His palm stung the flesh of her cheeks over and over again, but worse than that, she still felt horrible about how she had reacted earlier in the day, running off like a complete fool.

  And now her backend flamed from the punishment her husband was meting out. Not that she didn’t deserve it, but she did wish it didn’t hurt quite so much.

  “Tell me, little dove, who is the finest jewel in all the world?”

  “I-I am,” she whispered.

  “Oh dear, you’ll have to do better than that.”

  He stopped swatting and delved his hand into the folds of her quim. “Ah, so wet. My sweet Lizzy.” Coating his fingers with her essence, he massaged the moisture along the crease in her bottom and circled the rosette of her little opening. Pressing against the pucker, he worked two fingers into her.

  “Ohh,” she moaned. It was the most deliciously naughty feeling and she had come to enjoy his probing very much. However, she still questioned his ability to get his large hard cock into the very small opening.

  In just a matter of moments, though, she found out the answer. Having relaxed the area with his fingers, William touched the head of his cock to her pucker and pushed through, slowly working the entire length of his manhood into her.

  She whimpered and buried her face in her hands. So full. It was as though he’d filled her everywhere.

  “Mon Dieu, it is even better than I expected.” William gripped her hips and paused to steady himself before slowly pulling out a short distance and then sliding back in. He repeated the process going a bit further out each time and slamming back in a bit harder. Soon, they settled into a rhythm with Lizzy pushing back to meet him each time he pulled out. Stretched and filled, she knew it was only a matter of time before she reached her climax.

  William somehow managed to ask her questions and actually expected her to answer, all the while pistoning his cock in and out of her ass.

  “Who is the finest jewel in New Orleans, Lizzy?”

  “I am,” she said.

  He slapped her ass. “Good girl,” he panted.

  “Who loves you?” His voice was thick with emotion.

  “You d-do,” she managed to say as he thrust into her and sent her over the edge, her orgasm spiraling through her just before he spilled his seed into her tight passage.

  They collapsed onto the bed and he pulled her into his arms. “Ah, my sweet Lizzy. You are my heart. My everything.”

  Her heart sung with his words and as she snuggled against his hard chest she thought, I am owned. Owned by the pirate.

  About Sue Lyndon

  USA Today Bestselling Author Sue Lyndon writes naughty, heartfelt romance filled with sexy discipline, breathless surrender, and scorching hot passion. Hard alpha males, strict husbands, fierce alien warriors, and stern daddy-doms make her go weak in the knees. She also writes vanilla sci-fi alien romance under the name Sue Mercury.

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  About Celeste Jones

  USA Today bestselling author Celeste Jones is known for writing highly entertaining erotic romance featuring headstrong heroines and stern yet loving heroes who aren't afraid to take a naughty woman over their knees.

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  Troubled Waters

  by Jane Burrelli

  Chapter 1

  St George, Bermuda

  6th October, 1714

  The icy breeze rolling off the Atlantic nipped at Marie’s exposed skin, finding the chinks in her clothing with unerring accuracy. Shivering, she pulled her shawl tighter around her slender shoulders and, grasping a hooked pole, began closing the shutters. It was on nights like this, when the stars were brighter than diamonds winking through the cloudy patchwork above, that she wondered whether Jack was looking at the same stars. Marie sighed. He was likely halfway across the world. The change in season meant she felt his absence all the more keenly—without his large, warm body to wrap around her at night, the bed was cold and lonely.

  The final shutter dropped down with a decisive snap, and the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Marie spun, bringing the pole around, ready to bury the hooked end in someone’s head. It met nothing but air.

  Marie tightened her hands on the pole, her gaze scanning the darkness. Something was out there, and it wouldn’t be the first time the governor’s men had been sniffing around, spying on her, hoping to catch her in the act of…God knew what. They were waiting for an excuse to pounce—like they would ever c
atch her! Just a little more time, and with any luck, her and Jack would be free of the man, who showed far more interest in her person than she was comfortable with. Marie supposed she was something of a novelty, the illegitimate granddaughter of a French comte—she was a product of a youngest son, set to make his fortune privateering in the Spanish war of succession, and a Tortuga whore who became his woman. The pairing had blessed her with darker colouring and delicate European features, giving her an exotic air that sometimes attracted more attention that she cared for. Her father had nonetheless acknowledged her, and when her mother died, she had passed into his care.

  Marie scurried back inside. A lone woman at night didn’t dawdle or dwell. She released the breath she’d been holding and lowered the bar across the door, nodding with satisfaction. That would keep out anyone bent on ill will.

  Her hands at the small of her back, she stretched her sore, tired muscles and on weary feet made her way to bed. Her flagging attention consumed with unlacing her dull outer dress, she passed through the portal and pushed the door closed as an afterthought. Strong hands clasped her waist, and a solid weight pinned her to the door. The hold shifted, and a rough hand covered her mouth, and the high-pitched scream died in her throat. She fought, fuelled by pure instinct, twisting her body but found her assailant’s grip unbreakable. Her teeth clicked behind the flat of his hand, trying to latch on to a finger, to provide a distraction while she frantically riffled through her skirts to reach the dagger strapped to her thigh.

  “Now why aren’t you abed like all good little wives should be?” Her husband’s familiar soft burr rumbled against her ear.

  Marie went slack in his grasp and stopped struggling, a loose tendril of dark hair hanging limply over her eyes. She was going to kill him for scaring her half to death!

  Jack scratched his bristled chin over the top of her ear, and she shivered. The solid wall of his chest at her back, and her front flattened to the door, his great body curled around her, enveloping her with his heat. His manhood poked into her lower back, hard and eager. If he thought she would oblige him after scaring ten years off her life, he was in for a rude awakening! Her heart fluttered, mimicking a trapped bird beneath the generous swells of her breasts.

  She was going to gut him.

  She was going to tear his eyes out.

  He kissed the nape of her neck before migrating to the sensitive delicate hollow, just below her ear.

  She was going to—oh, sweet Jesus, do that again!

  Nuzzling her skin, he nipped her ear—she regretted that she had ever admitted to being so sensitive there. Every time he sought it out with unerring accuracy of a consummate hunter.

  “Have you missed me, lass?” The teasing lilt of his voice threatened the last of her saintly patience.

  “You are despicable!” If she had her hands free, she would’ve taken a swing at him.

  His strong arms spun her around and silenced all protest with a kiss, and her resistance melted into a puddle at his feet. Marie broke off, fighting to regain her breath.

  “What were you thinking?” She pulled him closer, her eyes widening as she realised a new fear. “You might have been seen!”

  “I…was…careful,” he murmured against her mouth, ravaging it between words.

  “The danger…” Marie half-heartedly began again, sucking in a breath when he scraped the blunt edge of his teeth over her throbbing pulse, and her knees threatened to buckle.

  “I don’t care; nothing keeps me from my wife.”

  Never one to be an idle participant, Marie returned fire, delivering a playful bite. Jack drew back, ruefully rubbing the injured spot, and shot her an unrepentant grin.

  “You’re a saucy lassie. Good thing I know just how to make you sweet again.”

  Marie’s mouth dropped open, his arrogant words burning through the last of her patience. She took a swing to clout him a good one. Jack caught her wrist and tugged her to him, seemingly impervious to her glare.

  “Now, none of that, lassie.” Though his tone was teasing, a warning flashed in his dark eyes, and he reeled her back to him. “I have plans for us tonight, and they don’t involve imparting some husbandly discipline.” His arms looped behind her, his hands cupping the plump cheeks of her arse.

  Marie shivered, melting into his embrace.

  “Unless you’d enjoy your hot little arse bent over our bed while I ride you hard.”

  The lurid imagery enthralled her, and her quim slickened. Jack peered down at her and winked. Marie couldn’t contain the throaty chuckle, and she shook her head, the last of her ire vanishing. Jack was incorrigible, and their limited time together was too precious to waste with pointlessly heated words when they could be enjoying each other. His hand found her breast, leisurely circling the nipple with the roughened pad of his thumb before giving it a sharp pinch.

  “Jack,” she mewled, thrusting her chest out as pleasure speared her core with a phantom thrust.

  Her clothes became too tight, too confining, and she yanked at the remaining laces at the front of her dress. Her hunger fed Jack’s; his fingers fumbled at their clothes. In that moment, there was nothing more important that being skin to skin with him. Her skirt rucked up between their pressed bodies, and icy air caressed and teased her dewy nether lips. Her awareness heightened by the heat radiating from his body. Jack’s hand slipped between them; he slid a finger into her tight sheath in one confident plunge. She gasped, her hips tilting in happy welcome. The heel of his palm ground over her nubbin, and Marie closed her eyes and lost herself to the sensations washing over her. Jack shot her a wolfish look, stirring his finger, and Marie bit down on her lower lip to stop her soft moans breaking free.

  The hot, aching knot between her thighs intensified with every dizzying thrust of his fingers, and she raised her hips to grind her mound into his hand. Jack withdrew his fingers, and Marie squealed a desperate cry of protest.

  “Please, Jack,” she breathed. She pawed at his shoulder. It was no secret to her husband that she enjoyed the slight nip of pain with her pleasure or that he was more than capable of tormenting her to the brink.

  His thumb caressed her cheek, the tender gesture at odds when paired with the large man in front of her. “What do you want, Marie?

  “To feel you,” she panted with each rise and fall of her chest, the rough fabric of her dress abrading her sensitive nipples. “Skin to skin.”

  Black fire lit Jack’s eyes, and with impatient fingers, he dispatched the rest of their clothing. Marie stood naked before him, and Jack circled her like a shark, drinking her in from every angle, and Marie returned the favour with her own bold stare, a saucy tilt to her head. His dark, masculine features were an indication of his Scottish heritage—he was magnificent, lithe muscle and sinew, and there wasn’t an inch of fat on his frame, a bronzed tan stopping decisively at his waist. There was strength in those compact muscles, years of working on ships and climbing rigging. And he was hers. A light dusting of dark hair swirled over his chest; another started at his navel and continued in an intriguing line that led to his proud, jutting cock.

  She glided her fingers up and down his straining cock. Jack’s eyes slid shut.

  “By God, Marie.” He hissed, dragging the edge of his teeth over her extended nipple, his hips softly thrusting into her palm. “That feels so good.”

  Marie redoubled her efforts, and Jack’s hot, work-roughened hand ran over her flanks, her back, her stomach, like he couldn’t go without touching her.

  Her pirate husband delivered a gentle slap to her rear, the signal to release him, and Marie did so with great reluctance. Grasping her around the waist, he lifted her feet off the floor and pinned her to his hip. Jack stalked towards their bed with a purpose and dropped her upon the mattress, her dark hair falling across her face, and she scrambled onto all fours and, sending an impish smile over her shoulder, crawled for the opposite side.

  Jack grasped her ankle, and she was dragged back. “Behave and I’ll give y
ou what we both want.” He chuckled, delivering two stinging slaps to her bottom.

  Her arse cheeks rippled, his handprints branded into her flesh in a primitive show of ownership. Marie’s core clenched on thin air, achingly empty. Before she found chance to draw breath into her lungs, Jack flipped her on to her back, her riotous locks curling about her shoulders. He fell over her, catching his weight on his palms. His knees gripped her hips, his body caging her and pressing her into the mattress, letting her know she was caught. She reached for him, but he snagged her wrists, one in each hand, and trapped them back either side of her head, his lips snaring hers in another drugging kiss. Marie duelled with his tongue, spreading her soft thighs, curling her slender calves around the back of his legs, drawing him closer. She needed him closer! Jack broke off from the kiss and guided his cock into Marie’s body. She hissed at the slight burning stretch as he forged forward. It had been so long.

  Jack froze above her, rising to properly see her face. “Marie, are you well?” Concern laced his voice.

  Marie pasted on a watery smile. If he thought he’d hurt her he would stop, and that was the last thing she wanted. “You’ve been a long time at sea, husband.”

  His dark eyes turned velvety, the tension draining out of his muscles. He kissed her again, but instead of the lustful ravishing of before, his lips were soft and reverent. His large hands cradled her curvy hips. The bed creaking, he twisted them so she sat astride him.

  “Jack?” she asked, unfamiliar with the position. Her husband usually liked being in control in bed.

  He grinned at her, the flash of gold in his ear catching her attention. “Move when you are ready, sweeting.”