The Pirate And The Pussycat

by Scott, Paisley

Celia wiped her lips and smiled. "I hope that adequately paid for my passage, Captain Rolfe." She grabbed her drink, savoring the taste of buccaneer mixed with pirate rum.

  "It did indeed, my lady." He rolled his shoulders beneath the still-open shirt he wore.

  In her opinion, the disheveled appearance only made him that much sexier. The sight of him made her legs wobble like jelly. She took another swig of her drink and sat on the edge of the bed.

  "I thank you for that, Kitty. Never have I encountered such a rush of pleasure in so short a time. It was exquisite."

  Beneath her mask, her skin warmed. "I was happy to oblige, sir."

  Glorious in his nudity, he sauntered to where she was on the bed. "Now, my kitten, it is my turn to pleasure you."

  Her body tingled at the mere thought of him doing just that. "I thought I was in charge."

  "You are. I’m merely your servant, here to satisfy any and all desires." He bent and kissed her breasts where they peeked over the top of her halter. "Do you desire this?"

  What a silly question, she thought dumbly, reaching behind her to unhook her top. The latex fell away, freeing her breasts to his attentive mouth. His silk mask tickled her bare skin as his lips found her nipple and began suckling, and all rational thought went south. "Ooh, that’s nice."

  The seductive magic of this man and the potent rum had a euphoric effect. Whatever inhibitions she might have clung to disappeared at the excitement of his lips worshipping her body. So deep into pleasure mode, she didn’t notice he’d stripped off her shorts and had her lying back against the pillows of the bed. He nipped at her breasts and then kissed them, dragging his warm tongue erotically across each excited nipple. It felt so wonderful. She never wanted it to stop.

  But it did stop, and Celia reached for him, trying to pull him back. The bandana he’d worn around his head came off in her hand, revealing thick, brown hair beneath. "Please," she begged. "Don’t stop."

  His quiet laugh blew across the sensitive skin of her lower tummy. "I won’t, sweetheart."

  Dipping his head, he kissed his way down past her navel, then across the top of her shaved pussy.

  Celia sucked in a ragged breath and clenched her fingers in his hair. Eagerly, she spread her legs and pulled him against her pussy. At the first flick of his tongue inside her, she bit her lip to keep from crying out. But when his tongue found her clit, she couldn’t keep her pleasure contained. She bucked her hips, meeting his mouth each time he thrust his tongue inside her. He teased her, tormenting her sweetly until she was on the brink of bliss, then pulled back and started over again. Her clit was hot and throbbing at the same time. Streaks of fire raced through her belly. Her body wouldn’t be denied, and she held him still with her thighs and hands. "Lick my cunt, Rolfe. Ooh, yeah. Like that. Just like—"

  Warm waves of pleasure flowed through her as his tongue dove into her pussy again and again. She tightened her thighs around his head, arching off the bed as her orgasm exploded in a blinding rush. "Ah! Ah! God!" Her fingers tangled tighter in his hair as she held him against her.

  Rolfe continued to suck her clit as she came. Time and again, she rode the waves of ecstasy as his mouth worked its magic on her.

  After a few moments, the world righted itself and Celia released the death-grip she had on him. Instinctively, she smoothed her hands over his head. "Sorry. I didn’t mean to pull your hair like that."

  He grinned. "I didn’t mind in the least, Kitty." He slid up the bed until he lay beside her. "There’s only one problem."

  Raising herself on one arm, she faced him. "What’s that?"

  Rolfe took her free hand and placed it on his hard cock. "The sounds you made while being pleasured excited the hell out of me, my lady." His voice was low and husky.

  "Well, we’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?" She pushed him on his back and straddled his hips as he tore open a foil packet and sheathed himself. Her thigh-high boots were still on, and her body hummed hotter as they continued acting out this sexy fantasy.

  Leveraging herself on his chest, she eased down until her pussy touched the head of his penis. She sat up straighter, undulating her hips, little by little, until the entire length of his thick cock filled her. She savored the feel of him within her, stretching her inner walls so deliciously. She clenched her muscles to test the pleasure gauge.

  It was off the charts.

  Groaning, her pirate lover grabbed her waist and thrust strongly beneath her.

  "Damn, you’re good," she said, loving the way he filled her so completely.

  "I aim to please, wench," he growled, plunging deeper.

  Celia arched her back and played with her breasts as she rode him. Below her, in his mask and open shirt, he looked like a dangerously sexy swashbuckler straight out of a fantasy. Still in her cat woman mask and spiked-heel boots, the thought of how they must look turned her on even more.

  She stuck her middle finger into her mouth and sucked on it, watching him as he watched her. She kept time perfectly between sucking and riding his cock. Slowly, she withdrew her finger and trailed it across her swollen bottom lip, then lower to swirl it around her hardened nipple. She dipped lower still and rubbed her clit, moaning as she found the sweet spot.

  As his cock moved inside her, her finger matched the tempo. Nothing had ever felt as good as this. Nothing. The familiar warmth spread like wildfire through her muscles, and she wished she could hold on to the lovely feeling, but it was fast and furious and carried her over the edge in a rush of pure pleasure.

  "You’re...so...fucking...sexy." He slammed into her with each word. When she cried out in orgasm, he anchored her hips and buried himself to the hilt, joining her in an explosion of carnal delight.

  Collapsing onto him, the sound of music vaguely penetrated Celia’s mind. She raised herself off Rolfe’s chest and listened. "What’s that noise?"

  "Sounds like the Stones—Satisfaction, I think."

  She grinned. Satisfaction was something she’d definitely gotten with Rolfe. "But this is a pirate ship. The Rolling Stones haven’t even been born yet." She giggled. "Well, most of them anyway."

  He chuckled. "True. But there is a ball going on out there, after all. With dancing, eating, partying. That sort of thing."

  Celia traced the fullness of his lower lip. "I feel very naughty."

  "As well you should. You’re a very naughty wench indeed." Rolfe nipped her finger playfully.

  "Shall we join the Stones on the deck, captain?"

  An electronic chirp vibrated through the room.

  Rolfe rolled them to their sides and leaned over to nibble her ear. The chirping came again. He groaned and swung his legs off the bed. "Give me a moment, would you?"

  Celia watched him walk away. He looked delicious in his sexy pirate outfit with the open shirt barely hitting his naked waist. She bit her lip as she gazed at his firm, bare ass. Damn, the man was yummy. Her pussy tingled just looking at him.

  Rolfe hit a small button against the wall at the bar. "This better be good," he said into the wall-mounted microphone.

  "Sir, I’m terribly sorry to disturb you, but there was a fire in the kitchen."

  "Was or is a fire?"

  "Was, sir."

  "Anyone hurt?"

  "No, but there is some scorching and the fire department did come out to look at it."

  "And you’re telling this to me...why?"

  "I thought you would want to know, sir, in case the media arrived."

  "If everyone is okay and the house is still standing, Basil, then the media can wait."

  "Oh," said the disembodied voice. "Then I’m terribly sorry to disturb you. I apologize. Please enjoy the rest of the evening, Master Wolfe."

  Rolfe turned back to the bed. "Sorry about that." He slid onto the mattress beside her again. "Now, where were we?"

  Celia sat up, her mouth suddenly dry. "Mr. Wolfe? As in Devlin Wolfe?"

  He paused for a moment. Instead of responding to her question, he aske
d, "Would it matter if I was?"

  "Well, no, it wouldn’t matter," she admitted. "But it’s kind of a shock to learn you’ve just slept with the richest guy in town. Someone more mysterious than Batman." She raised an eyebrow. "And look at the lucky coincidence of us being paired up. Do you realize how many women would have killed for the chance to be in my shoes tonight?"

  He slid his hand down her leg and over her boots. "Damn sexy shoes they are, too."

  His touch sent warm thrills shooting through her veins. "I’m serious," she said, trying to remain focused.

  "What if I told you it wasn’t a coincidence?"

  She frowned, confused. "I’d say you’re kidding me. Why would you pair up with me? You could have anyone you want."

  "Because you’re real." He reached out and pulled off her mask. "You’re not after riches or power." She felt her hair tumble down her shoulders in thick waves. "I trust you." Combing his hands through her curls, he let it fall through his fingers. "You’re beautiful, Cecelia, and you don’t even realize it. I’ve wanted you since the first day I met you."

  How did he know her name? "What do you mean you’ve wanted me since the first day? You just met me for the first time tonight, Devlin."

  "You know me, Celia." He removed his mask and let it fall to the bed behind him.

  Celia gasped. The man beside her wasn’t Devlin Wolfe. It was Jack Howell, assistant football coach at the high school. "Jack!" Truthfully, she’d been attracted to Winston’s assistant coach the few times she’d been around him. But this had to be some sort of elaborate practical joke he and Winston had dreamed up.

  "Am I being Punk’d?" she asked, looking around for hidden cameras. Oh, God. If this got on television, life as she knew it would come to a screeching halt. What had she gotten herself into?

  "Celia, I’m serious. I am Devlin Wolfe. Winston and I went to school together years ago. I sometimes use an alias when I do extracurricular things like helping out a high school football team because I value my privacy." He shook his head. "It’s a stupid image thing. Jack Howell’s a name I’ve used for years because of the whole Wolf-Howl connection."

  "I can’t believe this." Why hadn’t Winston or Marilyn said anything to her? Surely they knew Devlin had this night planned—didn’t they? "I’m...I’m shocked to say the least."

  "But are you angry?" He rubbed his hand lightly across her belly. "I swear I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to get to know you in a different environment than at school. Hell, even at school, I’ve rarely had the chance to talk with you. I wanted more. Does that make sense?"

  She was actually pretty damn flattered by the whole thing. "I honestly wouldn’t have cared what your name was after tonight. The sex was better than incredible. And I had a wonderful time role-playing with you. Whoever you want to be, Devlin, Jack or Rolfe, I don’t mind, as long as I can have one of them in bed. Deal?"

  He bent and touched his lips to hers. "Anything you want. Just name it." He deepened the kiss, tasting her, teasing her. A groan tore from him as he pulled back to catch his breath.

  It was a delicious and wicked mating of tongues that made her pussy wetter with each stroke. Celia fell back against the pillows and tugged him down with her. "Kiss me again."

  Grinning, he rolled on top of her and straddled her hips. "With pleasure, my lady."