The Captain's Rebel (Irish Heroines)

by C. B. Halverson

“Sir—?”

  “Suck on them!” He forced my fingers into my mouth, and the action felt so erotic as if he were stuffing his cock between my lips. “Get them nice and wet. Lady Jane is in for a special delight this evening.”

  Before I could ask what he meant, he popped my fingers out of my mouth and inserted them right into Lady Jane’s tiny arsehole. I tried to jump back, instinctively averted to the action, but Grant’s hand clamped down on my palm like a vise and he forced my forefinger inside her forbidden little space. Lady Jane wagged her backside in the air, making small mewling noises in her throat. Her muscles contracted around me, and I slipped my finger in deeper.

  “She is a dirty little one, isn’t she, boy?”

  The tip of Grant’s cock pressed against my trousers, searching for my own opening.

  “She is, sir.”

  “She wants to be filled, doesn’t she?”

  “Yes, sir,” I breathed.

  “Slip another finger inside that tight arse, boy.”

  I did as I was told, and Lady Jane moaned into the table, sweat covering her body as her hips gyrated against my hands.

  We paused there for a minute, his hand still clamped down on mine. “I am going to take my hands away, but I want you to finger both her openings. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You must apply steady pressure and maintain a perfect rhythm.”

  I nodded, Grant’s scent of boot polish and cedar sending me into such a fever, I wanted to drop my trousers there and then at that moment and let him take me in front of God and everybody. Slowly, he took his hand away and settled it protectively on the back of my neck. With the other one, he reached down in search of Lady Jane’s clit. She moaned when he discovered her swollen nub, and I grinned up at him, excited by the power we both had over the tiny, helpless woman.

  “Go on then, boy,” he whispered.

  Even though my body trembled with aching lust, I forced my fingers in and out of Lady Jane’s holes, her arse cheeks jiggling alluringly as my rhythm increased, matching Grant’s flickering hands between her folds. I pressed my hips against the edge of the table, seeking any sort of friction as my own arousal surged through me, my thighs tingling with every thrust into the woman’s sweet, milky holes.

  “She’s so ready,” Grant said. “Not too fast now, or she’ll go. She is Lady Catherine’s slave. She needs to respond to her.”

  “But she’s so wet,” I whispered into his ear.

  The Captain flashed me a stare so searing, I nearly passed out from the sexual intensity of my response. “She will have to wait.”

  I slipped another finger inside.

  “That’s it, boy. Go on, now.”

  Moving my fingers faster in and out of Lady Jane’s gaping hole, I gritted my teeth, desire sending a fever to my brain. Desire for her, for the Captain, for power, for domination. I didn’t know which. But I knew when Lady Jane screamed, I wanted to cry out with her. I slammed my elbow against the table, a pulsing wave of heat blasting through my body as her inner walls contracted around my fingers.

  “Come for the boy, Lady Jane. Oh, come…!” Lady Catherine cried as Lady Jane’s hips jerked wildly against my hand, showered me with the intensity of her release.

  Flushed and exhausted with my own unsated need, I sank against Grant, who propped me up with his strong, muscled arm.

  Lady Catherine looked up at us and laughed. “Oh, what a sight. Excellent show, Michael O’Brien! You have been initiated by your master.”

  Lady Catherine bent down and placed a passionate kiss on Lady Jane’s lips before untying her and collecting her in her arms. She ushered her to a couch in the corner, and the two of them drank wine and giggled together like school girls.

  The door opened and two gentlemen entered, one in his sixties and another considerably younger. Grant’s eyes lit up and he stepped forward, leaving me reeling against the table, my body still burning for him.

  “Lord Edward, Admiral Endsworth.” The Captain bowed sharp at the waist, military man to the last.

  “Ah, Richard.” The fortyish looking man I assumed was the Admiral by his uniform stepped forward. “Here already?”

  “I have much to discuss with you, sir.”

  Neither man seemed surprised by the wild, ongoing orgy in the room, even though their eyes wandered over to the settee where Lady Catherine and Lady Jane were teasing a poor young soldier lad. Their giggles sailed high throughout the room, and the piano music continued on like nothing had happened.

  The Admiral smoothed his rumpled uniform and winked at Lord Edward. “My Lord, if you would excuse us, would there be a room I could receive Captain Grant in private?”

  Lord Edward mentioned a private parlor down the hall.

  “Excellent, sir,” Grant said. “But first is there a place I could freshen up? I find the evening’s activities have disheveled me most dreadfully.”

  Lord Edward chuckled, looking over Grant’s shoulder to his wife huddled in close conversation with Lady Jane as they plotted what to do with the young soldier. “I see my wife has recruited you for playing with her pet. I hope you enjoyed your experience.”

  “Of course, sir.” Grant’s face was a blank page, the heat completely retreated from his deep blue eyes.

  “There is a water closet across the hall.”

  “Excellent, sir.” Grant turned to the Admiral. “I shall see you in your parlor in a few moments, sir.”

  “Very good, Captain.” The Admiral turned on his heel and all of us left the chamber, the piano music drifting on our heels.

  Grant hesitated for a moment and then ushered me inside the small chamber. As soon as the door clicked shut he threw me against the wall, face first, tearing my trousers down and unbuttoning his own. The force of his hands grinding into my hips sent a wave of wetness bursting between my legs, my own core aching and pulsing for him after working Lady Jane’s so soundly. Grant kissed my neck, nipping at the flesh behind my ear, just as he thrust deep into me with a low groan.

  “God, I nearly came watching you with that woman.” The Captain tilted my hips, allowing himself to penetrate me deeper. Ruthless, commanding, all the control he had demonstrated in the parlor shattered, and I arched my back, receiving his hard, pounding assault.

  “Did you like making her come, Mary?”

  My breath caught in my throat at the sound of my name on his lips, and I gasped as he grabbed onto my breast, bruising my flesh. “I wanted to be that woman, Captain,” I breathed, imagining myself spread out for him like that on a table, helpless and naked and open. “I wanted you inside me. I wanted…oh…oh, Captain!”

  His cock impaled me, jabbing hard into the walls of my womb, the intense pressure turning to pleasure as he jammed himself hard against me, his skin slapping against my backside. He fisted my hair, throwing my neck back and planting a brutal kiss on my lips as he flooded my core with warm come, and I milked him for all he was worth. My vision flashed white for a moment behind my closed eyelids, and I broke in two, my mouth emitting small, whimpering sounds as wave after wave of his release burst into me. With one last thrust he broke the kiss and nuzzled my neck, the sound of our breath loud in my ears.

  “Oh, Mary, you were made for my cock.” He moved into me again, and I felt him harden once more. “You are my sheath, I swear it, woman.”

  My inner walls contracted around him, the aftershock of our passion quickening inside of me.

  He groaned and wrapped his arms around me. “I cannot wait to get you back to my cabin tonight.”

  “Will you tie me up like Lady Jane?” The words tumbled from my mouth before I could stop them, but the effect on Grant’s cock was immediate.

  He nipped at my ear as he chuckled darkly into my ear. “Your wish is my command.” With a low moan, he slipped out of me, come overflowing down my thighs. “Let us get cleaned up. We do not want to keep the Admiral waiting too long. The hour grows late.”

  We found the Admiral staring out the wi
ndow, a glass of brandy tipped to his lips. A light ocean breeze swept through the room, white drapes billowing around his lonely figure. His grey hair flowed loose over his shoulders, and the skin on his hand was badly scarred as if by a terrible burn. The radiating flames of glistening flesh trailed up past his cuffs, and I wondered how much of his body was covered with those twisted lines and how it might have happened.

  “Good evening, sir,” Grant said, interrupting my thoughts. “While these are not ideal circumstances, I am pleased to be once again in your service.”

  Endsworth smiled at Grant, setting his emptied glass of brandy onto the table. “And I, you, Richard.” The Admiral’s voice filled with warmth, and my eyes darted between the pair of them. There was history there.

  “Please, sit.” He gestured at the chair facing him. “I have something important to discuss with you.”

  Grant’s boots pounded against the creaking wooden floor, and he motioned for me to pour him a glass of brandy. After filling his glass, I disappeared into the shadows, my presence all but invisible to the Admiral.

  “I am aware of the ambush you experienced on the Atlantic.”

  “We overcame the French, but how they knew our course is still a mystery.” Grant leaned back in his chair. “It is as if they knew where we would be.”

  The Admiral nodded, taking a long sip of brandy. “Because they did know.”

  “Sir?”

  “We have it on good intelligence that there were spies in Gibraltar, and one perhaps aboard your ship.”

  Grant shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “Who is it?”

  “That is the problem, the prisoner died before we could get everything out of him. But he did say one of the spies was Irish.”

  My skin prickled on the back of my neck. Of course it was no shock there that an Irishman would be cozy with the French as they supported us during our revolution in 1798, but the distinction narrowed down the number of suspects to a handful of sailors. I sneaked a glance at Grant and the muscle in his jaw flickered, his fingers tightening around his brandy glass. I thought about Andrews and the maps I had copied. He couldn’t suspect me, could he?

  The Admiral took a long breath. “Would you have any obvious leads as to who our mysterious Irishman could be?”

  “We have a handful of Irish on the ship, but no one jumps out to me as a potential adversary,” Grant said in a quiet voice.

  The muscles in my chest unclenched, and I let out a soft exhale.

  The Captain took a sip of his brandy, drumming his ring finger against the crystal glass. “I will keep a lookout for anything suspicious.”

  “Very good, then.” The Admiral continued with other pressing news, but both men decided to continue with their official debrief in the morning.

  Grant’s jaw tightened as he left the room, with only a slight glance in my direction before slipping out the door. His footsteps echoed through the marble halls, the revelry in the parlor sputtered out and the quiet of early morning settled on the house as we reached our carriage. He didn’t look at me but rested his chin in his hands as we made our way through the narrow streets of Port Royal.

  My throat tightened, wishing I could reach out to him, take his hand and rub my thumb against his palm. The ache within me burned beneath my skin, and a swirl of anger, resentment, and shame bubbled up inside of me.

  “You can’t think I’m a spy, Captain,” I said finally, breaking the long, cold silence stretching between us.

  Grant stared at me, his eyes glittering black as obsidian in the darkness. “It would be a fantastic ruse, though, you must admit.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck rose. “There must be dozens of Irishmen aboard the Elizabeth, not to mention hundreds more within the fleet.”

  Grant nodded, his dark eyes scrutinizing me cruelly. “Yes, but not all of them are in private attendance to a Captain in the English Royal Navy. Not all of them parade around in men’s clothes. And not all of them have read Thomas Paine and spout revolutionary nonsense at every opportunity.”

  I flashed Grant a sly smile. “I thought you enjoyed my revolutionary nonsense.”

  His hand reached out to grab the lapel of my coat, and I almost fell from my seat in the carriage. “Do you think this is a game? Men died in that ambush. Good men.”

  My fingers dug into Grant’s arm, trying to extricate myself. “And as you recall, I was aboard that ship as well, Captain. And I nearly died in that ambush!”

  His chest heaved, and he loosened his grip, settling back on his seat. But his face remained drawn, his eyes boring right through me.

  “Someone knew where we were. Some Irish person. I do not know if it is you, but it certainly does not look good.”

  Tears stung my eyelids, and I stared out the window. “All I’ve wanted is to find my fiancé. Take back my land—”

  “Land stolen from your ancestors, yes. You have made that clear on numerous occasions. But how much further would you go to take back Ireland?”

  My eyes widened, and I turned to him, spluttering, fists clenched at my sides, wondering what he knew about the maps. “You’re being ridiculous!”

  “Keep your voice down,” Grant hissed. “We will talk about this in my quarters.”

  “But sir—”

  “Not another word, boy.”

  We didn’t speak a word to each other until we reached the ship and entered Grant’s chambers. I reached for his coat, but he grabbed my wrists, pulling me close into a hard kiss. His tongue assaulted my mouth, and I parted my lips, wetness blooming in my core as he thrust into me, tracing the tips of my teeth. His fingers dug hard into my waist, and he threw my shirt over my head, tearing at the gauze across my breasts. They sprang free from their hot restraints, and he threw me on the bed, crashing over me like a wave. His weight expelled the air from my lungs as his mouth clamped hard on my nipple, sucking until I cried out. I muffled my screams with my arm, tasting the sweat and musk of my own wanting flesh.

  He tore off my boots and trousers until I lay naked, sprawled beneath him, his cock jabbing painfully into my thigh. He reached for the buttons of his breeches but then hesitated, his fingers softening against my waist.

  “Wait here,” he whispered against my neck, his tongue darting at the edge of my earlobe.

  I ached for him, wishing he could fill me right then. The orgy followed by our argument had sent me into a tailspin of worry, and I needed to connect with him again, feel his heartbeat against mine, swallow his cries of passion with my mouth as he came inside of me.

  I blinked and he hovered over me, bits of rope in his arms. His eyes glittered with predatory dominance. “I am going to tie you up now.”

  Fear quickened in my heart, and I grabbed hold of the bedspread. “Sir, please. I know I said earlier—”

  “Are you being impertinent, Mary? Do you feel you are in a position to retract on your desires?”

  “But—”

  He took my chin in his hand, his fingers brushing against the pulsing vein in my neck. “Do not deny me, Mary.”

  The velvety softness of his voice sent trickles of panic down my spine, and my thighs trembled with desire, wanting both to spread myself open for him and run in terror from his chambers. My primal, intuitive feelings warred within me, sexual wantonness and self-preservation tearing me in two different directions. His hand slipped down between my breasts, and I sucked in my breath as he lingered at the small swell of my belly before dipping down between my legs, finding my soaked folds.

  “Submit,” he said simply, and that one word sent my will toppling like a breached barricade.

  “Yes, sir,” I whispered, the steel in my spine melting as his fingers entered deeper inside me.

  “I want you to lie on the bed, Mary, and do not move.”

  With his fingers still buried inside me, teasing my inner walls, I stretched out on his bed, my chest propped by downy pillows.

  “Beautiful, Mary.” His hand slowed, and I nearly screamed for him to continue,
my need reaching a tipping point as the events of the night unraveled in my mind with each stroke of his hand. In spite of my whimpers, he slipped out of my mound and took my wrist. He placed a delicate kiss on the inside of my arm. Then he fastened the rope to the bed, taking time to create a strong knot, his rough sailor’s hands pulling it tight.

  He moved to the other side of the bed and unraveled another cord of rope. “What did you think about when you fingered Lady Jane tonight?”

  I paused, watching the Captain twist the rope over my wrist then over and under and around the bedpost, the quickness of his hands making me dizzy.

  “At first I felt repulsed to see a woman so deeply humiliated.”

  Grant nodded, his shoulders relaxed; his only tell was the massive erection tenting his trousers. I swallowed hard. How badly I wanted to release him, with my hands, my mouth. Why would he play this game? Tonight of all nights. If only I could make love to him, hold him close, show him my loyalty to him, my Captain.

  My love.

  There was that word again. Love. The thought quickened me to my core, and I swallowed hard, shoving it to the back of mind. I couldn’t love him. Not here. Not in this lifetime.

  He took hold of my ankle, flexing my leg before pulling it near the bedpost. He wrapped my leg in the rope before creating another intricate knot, this time a little tighter.

  “But you did not remain repulsed for long.” He tickled the instep of my foot and my other leg kicked forward impulsively. He grabbed my other ankle, a spark of anger glittering in his dark eyes.

  The heat in Grant’s gaze sent another flutter of need through me, and my hips squirmed with the sheer desire of his touch. “No, sir. I found her state…arousing.”

  “And why is that?” He took his time with the last knot, as if to tease me, displaying the last shred of freedom of will, letting me watch it flit away beneath his hands.

  “Because she had given herself so freely to Lady Catherine. She placed complete trust in her.”

  He nodded, the cruel line of his mouth softening somewhat. “And what did you feel with your fingers inside her cunt?”

  I breathed in deeply, my nipples tightening at the memory of Grant behind me, pushing his cock into my backside as his fingers guided me into Lady Jane’s dripping quim, how together we had brought that woman to the peak of ecstasy, knowing she had no choice but to submit to our pleasure. Her pleasure.