by Andrea Jones
“Sir…” The panic would not be ignored, after all. It wrapped around her heart.
He stepped closer. “You never shared yourself with a man before our captain made you a woman. You have not yet partaken of the pleasure of two hands serving you.” Cecco placed his hands on her shoulders. “I will improve your appreciation.”
With tender force, he turned her around and began working the knot of her scarf. Under his ten supple fingers, it came loose. He pulled the scarf down to free her hair at last, and with it, a burden lifted from her shoulders. Jill was satisfied she had done her duty to Hook. From this point on, Hook’s order to guard the ship required only that she retain Captain Cecco’s trust and good will. Judging by his sigh of pleasure as he gathered her hair in both his hands, she thought doing so likely to prove easy— if only the emptiness didn’t pain her so much.
Combing her hair with his fingers, Cecco took his time, appreciating it. He ran his hands through her hair, over and over, and breathed deeply. “So silky. And scented like the sunshine.” The play of his fingers set her scalp to tingling. Obviously, Cecco’s boast was accurate; he was a man who understood women, or, at any rate, how to please them. At least one. Jill had sensed his gaze following her many times, but she hadn’t realized just how close, how flattering, his scrutiny had been. Tired of the heavy hurt within, she did as she had done when Mr. Smee attended her. Entranced, she closed her eyes and succumbed to her senses.
His fingers cleared a path on the back of her neck. Soon she felt his lips traveling along it, and his tongue just touching her. Now it was Jill who seemed to melt a bit. The sensation was inviting, a release from her tension. Sensing her pleasure, her new lover prolonged it. And she was sorry when he stopped at last, and sorry when he relinquished her hair, sweeping it over her shoulder. She stood still, waiting shakily, and listening to his adoring accents.
“Beautiful lady. No need for your little girl to come to you tonight. I will see to your needs, lovely one.” Adroitly, he loosed the lacings Liza had tended that morning. In no time, the scarlet taffeta relaxed its hold. “And whatever service I cannot render, your Miss will have to perform. I will share such tasks with no other man.” Cecco flattened his hands, such warm hands, on her back, then he slid them under her bodice and slowly pushed the gown over her arms. Jill twisted her shoulders to shrug it off. It was a natural impulse, but she would have followed it in any case. She was resigned. It would all happen, either way. The only issue left unresolved for Jill was exactly how much pleasure she and her new captain would take in their partnership.
Cecco smiled as he unhooked her petticoats. The symbolism of the act was not lost upon him. Jill thought of it, too, and felt increasingly vulnerable as, with every move, Cecco detached her further from Hook. Instinctively she glanced at the wall beyond the bunk. It was bare. No strings of jewels bobbed their enticement, no golden chains lay waiting to ensnare her. Most disappointing of all, the plain metal hook, which had held her captain’s claw each evening, hung empty.
And then her gaze caught an object on the bed shelf that Liza had neglected to clear away. Jill’s heart leapt. The empty water cup stood, placed there by Hook’s hand last night, and it triggered her memory. The surgeon’s sleeping draught! Should she use it? The unopened vial lay in the drawer beneath the bed. Would it really work as the doctor prescribed? Just one night might allow Hook the time he needed to return to her, wherever he was, and this exercise of fidelity through faithlessness could be avoided. Did she dare buy that time by turning the potion against Captain Cecco?
But Jill trusted the doctor less now than on the night he so seductively pressed the drug into her lap. The slippery amber liquid might prove to be poison, after all. And to harm Cecco now, when she depended on him for everything— her safety, the ship’s disposition— would be a foolish mistake, indeed. A reckless violation of the terms of accord that would only serve to destabilize the company. And exactly what the surgeon needed to work his ends.
No, from such a betrayal Jill could only earn Captain Cecco’s punishment. Or worse. She must follow what she could salvage of her original design. Calming her heartbeats, she submitted again to his amorous voice as he unhooked the last fastening.
“You see, although I am your captain now, I have not too much dignity to wait on you. And you will do the same for me?” It wasn’t really a question. The mellow candlelight glowed upon her flesh, becoming warmer. Her petticoats fell to bunch in a circle around her feet. With soft scrapings, they brushed her skin as he turned her to face him. His eyes fired as they assumed their first possession of her loveliness. He didn’t hurry.
After taking in the sight of her, he gestured to her hand. “I want you always to reach out to me. I will never touch you before you indicate that you wish me to.” He waited.
He cocked his head. “Lady?”
Unashamed of her nakedness, she cast her eyes down only in grief. Her voice was dull. “You don’t want to break your oath, even though you believe Captain Hook is— dead.”
“It is always wise to be cautious. We gypsies are superstitious.” He bent his head to capture her gaze. “But also, a very beautiful people, and full of the appreciation of life.” The intensity of his regard confirmed his words.
“But what of my oath?”
“If Hook lives, Lady, you have already broken it with your scar-faced ‘lover.’ If not…” He held out his hand once more, expectant.
“You must know that if Hook lives, you will die.”
“I acknowledge the possibility. But do not underestimate me, Madam. And of course, I would on no account allow him to punish you.” His white teeth gleamed. “I see that you smile at my chivalry.”
“I am amazed to hear anyone say they’ll not allow James Hook to enforce his will.” And defiantly, she raised her open hand, displaying its vivid color— the deep scarlet of Hook’s blood, and her own. Her jewel blue eyes, so like Hook’s, grew fierce. “If you are not good to me, I swear to you by his blood— I will kill you!”
Then she lowered her arm and turned her hand, offering it.
Cecco clasped her hand in triumph, and then he laughed. “Mutiny! But not, I think, until you have learned more of sailing, eh?” But his face lost all levity. “For now, you will learn more of men.” He pulled her hands to his chest and pressed them there, and then he leaned forward as if to kiss her. But he stopped. “No. I want my first kiss to be one you will remember always.”
He slipped his arm around her waist and drew her toward him. Her hands felt the tone of his thick chest muscles, the rise and fall of the breathing that caused his golden necklaces to glint in the candlelight.
“Here is where two hands can serve you.”
She gasped as he cupped her breasts, then he caressed them with his thumbs. He bent his head, and placing his lips on one tinted tip, he kissed her, tenderly. She gazed upon his shoulders as his tongue circled, tasting the kiss. Lingering, he drank her in, and Jill’s lips went dry. She opened them to breathe. When she looked down on his dark, feathery hair, she was tempted. But she couldn’t bring herself to touch it yet. Her fingers moved, instead, on his chest.
Cecco kissed her, dissolving time. And the longer he kissed her breast, the more her mouth hungered for that kiss. She found herself longing for his same touch on her lips. How much cleverer he was, more winning, than she at first understood! She had, indeed, underestimated him, more than once. Truly, this kiss was one she would never, ever forget.
As the fire he had ignited burned below her belly, Jill’s resolve to follow him faltered. Her fingers spread. Her hands pressed harder against his body. She tried to push him away but, effortlessly, the strongest man on the Roger overcame her resistance, and she learned how helpless she was. Her physical subjection stirred her doubts. Could she cross wits with him? And she became increasingly uncertain whether she would be able to carry through with this arrangement, or to keep any measure of control over the Roger, as Hook had commanded her to do.
&n
bsp; But if Jill was a match for a man like Hook, she could match Cecco, too. What choice did she have? Her fingers stopped resisting. Instead, she followed the contour of his chest, moving her fingers up behind his neck and into his hair. She pressed him closer. And through the traitorous haze of her surrendering senses, she wondered again…where was Hook?
And where was Smee? What duty did the bo’sun owe her in this struggle? Her heart would feel so much lighter if this man taking charge of Hook’s ship, the man commandeering Hook’s woman, was her own Mr. Smee. Hook’s Smee. Tears pricked at her eyelids.
And then Cecco banished thought, relinquishing his embrace and placing his hands on either side of her face. He lifted it. His dusky eyes contemplated the open lips that longed for his. He teased her lips with his thumbs, and then with his fingers, and then with his tongue. And when he finally granted her wish, that kiss was like a welcome consummation. Their lips pressed together. His tongue, impatiently awaited, thrust inside, and her own yielded to it.
Cecco’s two hands now slid behind her hair, down her back, and lower, moving in circles and stroking her. He forced her toward him, massaging, insisting, against the eagerness manifest beneath his breeches. Taking hold of her red hand again, he placed it upon his manhood.
“As Hook’s woman, you have consented to all my demands. Here is another demand. The first that I make upon my woman. Release me.”
And until she did, she thought she might yet turn back. Even Cecco held his breath. He, too, must sense it wasn’t too late. She could still choose the other course, reject Hook’s admonition and abandon the ship to this man. But it was not for nothing that Jill had joined up with pirates. She had never been a coward. Unblinking, she watched now as Captain Cecco melted again, sighing.
She discovered a band of smooth, rolled metal encircling the base. “Ah.” With hooded eyes, she looked at Cecco, inquiring.
“Yes. Your instincts are true. It is gold. As I intimated at Gao, a ring. For your pleasure, and mine.” And he made her fingers to understand it, and her pulse beat against her skin.
“It is known, Madam, how you lust after precious treasure. You see that, like yourself, I adore jewelry. You will find me to be a more generous master than your first captain. I will delight to grant you any ornament you can remove from me. If you are successful, I will be most happy to replace my jewelry with new, so that you may win it again. In this way, all our desires will be fulfilled.”
Her feet left the floor as Cecco, with his powerful arms, picked her up like an expensive doll and propped her in the captain’s bunk where, of all places, she should have felt at home. But everything was changing now….He showed her again, gently, even lovingly, all over her body, what a man’s two hands could do. Her breathing took on a rhythm of its own, and then slowed to match his movements as she warmed to this man’s magic, in spite of all previous resolutions. It didn’t help that he was adorned with gold. She ran her hands over its glossy texture, rich like his skin. She caressed the gold on his arms, the gold at his ears, his chest, his wrists. And…She fingered his ring. She couldn’t help but want it.
Her touch, so intimate, spurred him on. “I told you no lies. You will share all my treasure with me, Lady. Starting now.” His gilded chains swung from his neck as he leaned over her. His gold dangled over her breast. And she was surprised, mere moments later, how easily her thighs relented under the pressure of his knee and let him enter, in another welcome consummation.
But Cecco was in no hurry to seal this accord between the gypsy captain and the pirate queen. He had neglected to mention one last article, still unspoken, to include in their terms.
Surrender.
Despite her acquiescence, he controlled his passion, pushing forward only gradually, inch by inch as she clung to him, until, with her eager threshold, she just kissed his golden ring. Then he backed away.
She breathed, “Giovanni…”
She expected him to answer tenderly, as any lover might do. But as her captain, he corrected her instead, as he had done when he was only her devoted sailor.
“You are too informal. What am I, Madam?” He pressed inward as he kissed her. Only after he withdrew did he permit her lips the freedom to answer.
She whispered. “You are the master— of this ship.” He moved again so that she encompassed his golden ring. Then it slipped away. She pulled in her breath.
“Only of the ship?” He allowed it again, then…
He surged out, like the tide.
“No!”
“Who rules you?” He crested once more. And ebbed.
“My master.”
With a motion, he rewarded her. “What am I to you?”
He abandoned her.
“The captain.” Breathing was impossible.
As he advanced once more, his ring touched her again. Warm, smooth, and golden. “Whose captain…my Jill?”
It was gone. His bracelets jingled as he raised her hips to meet him.
And he delivered himself again.
“My captain.” As she spoke it, some mysterious connection linked the lips of her mouth and the lips that embraced him. Even as her lover’s insistence filled the void within her, she remembered the first man, she knew he still lived, and the movement of her mouth as she formed his word again, “Captain,” sent her over the edge of sensation. No residue of resistance held her back. A golden ring, a golden earring, it was all the same to her now. She sighed, and retaining one shred of secrecy, denied her lips the utterance of her desire…Hook…and she gave herself over to the ecstasy. She found the shape for the word and called him again. “Captain.” Here was her captain.
This man returned the favor, breathing huskily into her hair, “Lady…”
He was more than generous. He was lavish with his gifts. She found herself inviting them, accepting them, and ultimately, gathering in his bounty of liquid pearls. She held fast to his golden armbands, hot to her touch, and took all his offering as they coupled together there, on the captain’s bunk. But when at length their two bodies stilled, he didn’t allow them to lie long, satisfied. Coaxing more, Cecco sat upright, renewing his efforts. Never surrendering her fastness, he pulled her up by her wrists to kneel astride him. He drew her arms about his shoulders. She clasped her arms together, and still she filled her emptiness with his offering. Sometimes she kissed him, and sometimes she kissed Hook. She couldn’t stop herself—
Someone else stopped her.
A tremendous blow hit the door and sent it smashing into the room. Jill jerked, clawing at Cecco as a tall figure stamped in and the door bounced back. At the sight of his familiar frame, Jill’s hopes soared. Her eyes hungrily claimed him. He was lit from behind by the glare of torches, and from within by soft candlelight. His hair flamed in the flare of burning pitch as he braced his legs and slowed, his hand on his weapon, his boots stepping unsteadily.
Jill stared in confusion at him, the man she had needed an hour ago, in whose arms she should at this moment be sheltered. Come now, too late.
“Mr. Smee…” Pangs of disappointment stung her heart. Hook wasn’t at his side.
Smee looked at her, and checked his forward motion. Jill’s eyelids were heavy, she was panting, her arms around Cecco’s neck, her beautiful flesh unmarked by violence. Clearly, the lady hadn’t been forced. Her face was suffused with her passion. Cecco’s sun-browned face, too, glowed with satisfaction. Intimately, their bodies intertwined. Their eyes burned too feverishly to mistake the truth. Even now, Jill and her consort were making love.
“Ma’am—” Smee’s eyebrows drew together as he focused, then, haltingly, he backed away. “I thought you might be trusting me to take you out of here.” Jill became aware of the doctor standing speechless in his suit coat, rigid behind the bo’sun. The gash of his dueling scar was gray against his open jaw as he blinked, utterly shocked. Nibs hung back behind the threshold, reluctant, with Starkey in his shadow. Mullins and Jukes crowded the companionway, and one of the torches was clenched in th
e black fist of Yulunga. His expression was unreadable.
Gathering wits enough to make his face blank, Smee finally said, “I’d have done anything for you, Lady. But I see you won’t be needing me, after all.”
Yulunga stooped and strode in, elbowing the doctor from his path. His torch cast a glaring light, flickering amber on the naked bodies in the bed. Both lovers remained still, unabashed and exposed for all to see. But despite the exquisite vision before him, it was her eyes that sobered Smee.
He stood uncomfortably, Yulunga’s flame reflecting in his spectacles. Then he squinted at the gypsy. “Begging your pardon…” His lip curled as he spat out the title of distinction, “Captain.”
On hearing the word, Nibs looked hard at Smee, then sent a glance full of pain to Jill, as if he suffered a grievous wound. He turned and launched himself down the stairs. Starkey followed him.
Moving at last, Jill buried her face in Cecco’s brawny arm. She felt the heat of his golden armband against her cheek. He stroked her hair, looking directly at Smee. “Fear nothing, Jill. You are under my protection now.”
But the pirate queen’s head snapped up. “Every man on this ship knows that I fear nothing!” She directed an icy stare at Smee. “I know where my duty lies. I embrace it without shame.” The words escaped from between the two halves of her broken heart. “Take your accusing eyes, man, and get out of—” only she knew she faltered, “our quarters.”
Smee’s expression became set. He turned on his heel and stumbled toward the door.
“Wait!”
Halting, he swung around. In spite of his outrage, a ray of hope lighted the face above his red beard.
Jill said, “You will see to the door, personally, in the morning. We will leave it open tonight, so that there will be no doubt as to our disposition. Captain Cecco and I are agreed.”
Smee’s face hardened. He didn’t wait to be dismissed again. He strode out and left the woman to her fate, without looking back.
She didn’t blame him. He believed she had betrayed his master. Her master.