He let out an exhausted laugh and then took a shot of rum. “I figured you’d choose that.”
“Do you not want me to go?” I asked, with hurt ringing in my voice.
“No. I don’t want you to go, and not because I don’t want to be with you so don’t even let that tear fall.” I quickly sucked in the tears. “It’s because it’s dangerous as hell out there. We aren’t just sailing to England for a holiday, sweetheart. You’re going to see some of the bloodiest, scariest shit you’ve ever seen. And there’s no crying when we’re out to sea. Here in the harbor, you can be my lady.” Biting down on his lip, he flashed a lustful gaze across my cleavage—plump, high, and round from the position of the corset—then resumed with his business-like tone. “But at sea, you’ll be one of my buccaneers. Dressing like a bloke, working like one, too, and most importantly, you’ll be drawing every shore we encounter and charting every sea we cross.”
“You want me to be your sea artist?” I whispered, stunned to the core.
“Aye. You’ll be working with Seth, my current navigator. I don’t like him much. He’s good at what he does, but he whines all the time. I’d like to get rid of him as soon as I find someone better to fill the position, and hopefully that can be you. You’re good at what you do, Hannah, and I already explained to you the importance of a good navigator. Such a respected skill will help to keep you alive in this deadly world we sail in.”
“Shark was just telling me about that.”
“That little bugger knows better than any one of them how true it is. His age, as much as his race, has forced him to work even harder to earn his rank, but now the older dogs know bloody well it isn’t worth messing with the little Shark Bite.”
“He told me it was his Spanish translations that earned him respect.”
“That helps, but mostly it’s because the last son of a bitch who insulted Shark got his face beat against a barrel and a chunk bit out of his arm. Chomped him up, like a shark he did, then spit out the lump of flesh at the crowd of men who were watching. Nobody wants to upset the mate that’ll eat you up that way.”
I almost chuckled over Mason’s summary of the horrible tale, but imagining the nice boy who had been serving me dinner acting in such a ferocious way, I remembered the terrible things I had to do to survive my own abuse. I confessed with my head down, “I understand. I bit Lucifer’s ear off one of the times he tried to rape me.”
“Ha!” Mason chortled and slammed his palm on the table. “Serves him right. You’re a tough little bugger yourself, Hannah. After seeing the way you beat on that slut, feeling the force of your punch myself, and hearing you talk like a cutthroat, I reckon I won’t have to worry about you as much as I would have before.”
I smiled as if he had told me I was pretty.
With grey clouds covering the sun that was setting low outside the stern doors, he finalized, “This is it, Hannah. Are you ready to take your stand against the wicked world?”
With a deep breath, I nodded. “I am. I’ve been mistreated for far too long, Mason, and the more I learn about the way of the world, the more I understand you buccaneers. I love the way you have stood up to your oppressors, and I truly admire the way you have taken reign of your own nightmare this way. Instead of collapsing as a victim, you rose above the terror and now have allowed others to make a stand under your flag. I want to be one of your buccaneers. And not just because there is nowhere else for me to go, but because there is nowhere else I’d rather be.” Looking at his handsome face, I smiled. “And no one else I’d rather be with.”
“Well done, beauty. Maybe you can write my speeches for me.” He winked.
The thought of him giving speeches to inspire his men gave me chills.
“Here.” He passed me the book where he kept his code of conduct. “Gaze it over to see just what you’ll be getting into.”
Looking over the page that would change my life forever, I took the time to read the words.
Articles of Agreement
Captain Mason Bentley’s Crew
I. Every man sworn by book & mirror to be true to these articles, & to his shipmates, is to have a vote in matters of importance. He who is not sworn shall not vote.
II. Captain & Quartermaster are to have two shares of a prize, the Sailing Master, Boatswain, Gunner & Surgeon, one share & a half. Other officers one & a quarter share.
III. No person to game at cards or dice for money.
IV. Any man not keeping his arms clean, fit for an engagement, or neglect his business, shall be cut off from his share and suffer such other punishment the Captain and the Company shall think fit.
V. Any man that attempts to jump ship or keeps secrets from the Company shall be marooned with one bottle of powder, one bottle of water, one pistol and one shot.
VI. Any man that spreads dissension or breeds mutiny shall suffer the punishment as the Captain and the majority of the Company shall think fit.
VII. He that shall be found guilty of cowardice in the time of engagements shall suffer the punishment as the Captain and the majority of the Company shall think fit.
VIII. He that shall have the misfortune to lose a limb in time of engagement shall have the sum of six hundred pieces of eight and remain aboard as long as he shall think fit.
Gazing upon the random symbols, initials, and blots of blood at the bottom of the page, I asked, “Which one is yours?”
Pointing at the long slash of blood, he said, ‘This one here is mine.” He then showed me the scar on the side of his palm. “I do it the same every time.”
“How many times have you done this?”
“Enough times to get a scar from it.”
“I can see why. Everything sounds fair and reasonable. I want to sign on.”
“Not yet. I want you to think long and hard about this over the next month afore we leave, and if you decide to go for it, we’ll need a witness when you sign.”
“All right. But just so you know, I can’t wait until the day I get to officially join your crew.”
“First thing’s first. And it all starts tomorrow by getting rid of all this shit.” He fanned his hand around the room.
I winced in confusion. “What the hell do you mean?”
“This whole room is going to go. Chopped right off the top.”
“What? Where will you sleep, and what about all these beautiful things?”
“Oh? Has the lovely little Viking taken a liking for my second-rate slut after all?”
Humored by the fact that he remembered the way I insulted his new ship the other night, I snickered as I confessed, “I do kind of like it in here.”
“Well, say goodbye. I’ll be taking a cabin below and we’re going to sell all this shit. We don’t need beautiful, heavy things, Hannah. We need speed. By the time we’re done refitting this bitch you won’t even recognize her. Nor will anyone she passes at sea because she’ll be so fast.” He threw his arm out to imitate an absurd amount of speed.
Unable to keep up with all his crazy ideas, I shook my head. “Whatever you say, Captain. I’ll just learn as we go along, I guess.”
“I like hearing you call me captain.” A saucy growl escaped his lips. “Now, why don’t you go see what’s in that chest I brought in here.”
So I did. The new wooden chest was full of the things that meant the most to me, my paints, my quill, and two of my paintings. As I eyed the invaluable pieces, he said, “I could only fit two in there. I know you love that blasted ol’ Sunrise, and Adaline told me you’d want the one of the tree.”
My eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Mason.”
He had also gotten me a set of men’s clothing, some boots, and a few weapons that would now be my own. Sifting through the pieces, I rambled on with joyful excitement about my new life, but when I came upon a black cloak, my heart froze in my chest. Visuals of the ghastly rumors swirling around town about me flashed through my mind as I held the foreboding piece of fabric. “Why the hell did you bring this?”
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A wicked grin lit his face. “You never know when we’ll need a witch around.”
“I never want to be a witch.”
“And I never want to pickle body parts in rum, but as you’ve plenty well seen, the ghastly rumors have worked out in my favor a time or two.”
“So you think these terrible and untrue tales might be beneficial to me?”
He walked over next to me. “If need be. Fear is a powerful weapon, Hannah, and I’ve seen the biggest sea dogs whimper like little lassies under the threat of witchcraft. Now, you have to remember, no one in this world knows that I’ve been housing the Ocean Eyed Witch. Far as they know, you’re my favored whore on this island.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I scowled at him.
“Prettiest one, too.” He laughed. “So, as far as they know, I’ll be dropping you off when we sail away, and this mysterious sea artist will be taking your place.”
“I feel that this mysterious sea artist should have a new name.”
He nodded his head to agree. “How about something dark and mysterious.”
I tapped my chin as I hummed in thought. “Yes. Something that has to do with the fact that no one truly knows who I am.” Imagining my black cloak blowing in the misty breeze at the graveyard, and then replaying through my mind the stupid lies that I’d caused Thomas to vanish in the night, I blurted, “Midnight! My new name will be Midnight.”
He twirled one of my braids around his finger. “I like it. No one truly knows the one who lurks in the shadows of the night.”
The christening of my alias, mixed with the feel of his hand in my hair, sent a shiver up my spine. Thrilled by the sensual rush, I inquired with a wide smile, “Will anyone know this mysterious sea artist is a woman?”
“Midnight is whatever she needs to be whenever she needs to be it.” He then swooped me off of my feet and surprised me with a kiss on the lips. “And today she is my woman.”
My heartbeat ran amuck in my chest as he pulled me closer to his body, and when he sat down on the bed—with me on his lap—I thought I might faint.
“What are you doing?”
“Sitting down. That’s all.” His grin was mischievous.
I squinted at him, but I didn’t try to flee. He kissed my lips again. So bound up in my sensual tension, I let out a sexual sigh. Embarrassed by the sound, I felt my cheeks heat up.
He bit at my lip. “I like it when you’re sweet with me, Hannah.”
“I like when you make me want to be sweet.” I looked into his eyes. “You know, Mason, all this time I thought I was alone, but you have been here for me all along. I think you are the best friend I have ever had. Besides Feather, of course.”
“Of course.” He smiled, and I kissed his cheek, surprising myself with the ease in which I did so.
“Ah, kiss me again, woman.” The way he growled lit and an unfamiliar flame in the lowest part of my belly.
Overwhelmed by the strange sensation, I wasn’t sure if I could handle kissing him again, so I touched his face instead. My heart rate slowed as I admired his features with my fingers. Tracing the bridge of his bold nose, I trailed them across his suntanned cheek, then followed the outline of his beautiful eyes. Enchanted by his perfectly chiseled features, I hummed a tune as I tickled down his sideburns and played with his goatee.
“It is such a pleasure to touch you this way,” I said as I traced his full lips.
“The pleasure is all mine, my sweet little pixie. You can do it anytime, but watch out, I’m a biter.”
Letting him nibble on my fingertips, I figured I’d let him bite me anytime he wanted to, but when I felt his hands traveling up my sides, I wondered what I was getting myself into. His bites turned to kisses, and as his lips wandered along my forearm, a chill shot down my spine. Shivering as if I was suddenly cold, my body quivered over his lap as he kissed my lips. Passionately. As he pulled me closer, I felt his excitement lift beneath me, which at first made me nervous. But in his arms, I felt safe. There was no reason for me to be afraid.
His embrace was warm, kindling a heat within me that I had never felt before. The surge of passion rolling through my body was so much different from the cloud I would walk home on after kissing Thomas. This was more like a thunderhead—strong and mighty, wild and enticing in a whole new way.
Just as I settled into the mood, he began to unlace my corset. The beats of my heart sped up. I was tempted to stop him, but I didn’t. Nor did I stop him when he laid me down and kissed me some more. I had thought at one point that I would never have sex again. At the time such a plan sounded valid, but now…Now, that this terribly handsome man—who had saved me from the world and freed me from my own internal chains—was kissing me on the red silk sheets of his ornate canopy bed, chastity just seemed absurd.
Sex was a part of life, and as he sucked on my neck I chose to embrace it. Let the thunder roll, I thought to myself as I twisted my fingers in his light brown locks. His mouth was like fire, singeing my soul. His hands were like lava melting me into him with every touch. Grabbing the sleeves of my dress, he began to pull it down. Nearly choking on the lump in my throat, I poked at the lace of his shirt and meekly sighed. “You first.”
“As you wish, my queen.”
He pulled his shirt off, and oh, good God, he looked even better in the daylight. Tracing the tribal-styled tattoo covering his shoulder, I whispered, “I love this design.”
“Maybe you can draw my next one,” he playfully said as he pulled my dress from my body. Off. Completely gone. Lying there, bare beneath him, my breath became as shallow as could be. The way my chest heaved seemed to excite him. His green eyes widened as he caressed me with his hands and his mouth shortly followed.
With only his breeches between us, he rubbed all over me. Though not a sweet word fell from his terribly enticing lips, the look in his eyes made me feel safe. He loved me. I could feel it beaming through his heartfelt gaze. And I was not ashamed to be bare beneath him. In fact, I wanted all of his clothes off, too.
Undoing his belt, I sighed, “What are you doing to me?”
He looked at my hands and chuckled, “Me? Ah, I’m just enjoying the scenery.”
Grabbing onto the part of him that no other woman would ever touch again, I wondered what the hell had come over me. And the world called me a witch…He was obviously the one casting spells, because I, the shy young girl who once was afraid to be bare in front of her own husband, now had her legs open wide before a pirate. Pulling him on top of me, I wrapped my legs around his waist and welcomed him into my world.
The entrance was grand. Painful, but in all the best ways. Slapping his arms, I cried out his name. Grabbing the sheets and squeezing the pillows, I moaned and whimpered beneath his passionate thrusts. His movements were masterful. The sight of him pushing into me was unearthly. Every time he pulled away, I tugged him back in. I wanted every bit of him against me, on me and in me. As our bodies collided our spirits did, too. My eyes were glued to his. The deep green mystery pulled me further into the man that he was. He was gorgeous. In every way. Everywhere. I couldn’t stop touching him. I never wanted him to stop touching me.
Swaying in harmony with the tide as it rocked the ship beneath us, we blended together like blue and red, making a perfect shade of royal purple. Here in his arms, I did feel like royalty, and when he pushed me up on top of him, I became the sex goddess I saw reflected in his eyes. Aye, the way he looked at me made me want to thrill him. Swaying and twisting with the electric rhythm buzzing in my body, I moved like I never had before. I felt like I never had before. As he pulled me back and forth across his lap, my blood raced through my veins like it never, ever had.
The way he looked me over was something different, igniting fiery senses that I never knew existed. Now that they’d been awakened, I never wanted them to cease. Feeling his hot hands all over me was almost more than I could bear. The fire burned hotter, the thunder crashed louder, and eventually the wave of passion hit the peak
of its crest. As the warm, white, foamy water thrashed throughout my spirit I collapsed against his chest.
Sensual elation tumbled in my being like a receding tide, but he wasn’t finished. He kept moving beneath me. Next thing I knew, he was on top of me, kissing down my legs, caressing my breasts, fanning the smoldering fire residing in the heat of my chest. But my efforts had weakened, and my cries minimized. Until he laid his hot, heavy body on top of mine. My energy once again paralleled his as he wrapped his hard hand in my hair, kissed on my neck, and bit at my ear. Thunder roared across the bay outside the open doors, and raindrops pattered against the sea as he released his passion inside of me.
I held him close as his rhythm slowed, and when he flopped his dead weight on the mattress beside me, I was too blissfully exhausted to care about retrieving my clothes.
That was it. It had happened. After all the heartbreak and hell I had endured, I made love with a man and not a single regret followed my decision. With his hard hand rubbing the bare skin of my belly, I shuddered. If I had the breath to speak, I would have told him that I loved him, but the way he kissed my forehead assured me that he knew.
“And that’s intimacy,” he chuckled, through his shortness of breath.
I laughed, too, but I certainly agreed. There was nothing dirty about the way he just loved me.
“Ah, you hear the rain, beauty?” he breathed, with his eyes closed. “I love it. The sound, the smell, the sight. And the thunder makes it even better.”
Thinking of the way my father and I used to watch for flashes of lightning through the kitchen window, I smiled. “I’ve always loved the rain.”
As I ran my hands through his hair, he pulled me closer. When the next bolt of lightning lit the darkening sky, he kissed my cheek. “I love you, Hannah.”
“I love you, too, Mason. I truly do,” I sighed in his embrace, but my voice was muffled under the roar of thunder. Eased by his love and soothed by the sound of rain beating against the sea, I remained silent in his arms as he tickled my back. Before long, he fell asleep.
Uncharted Secrets (Uncharted Secrets, Book 1): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories Page 12