Page 54 of The Pirate Queen of Ruin
“Three inches, legal to carry around the city as a concealed weapon. Now, let’s go before she wakes up.” She urges me onward. “Last thing I want to do is give this woman the show of me punishing you before you kill her.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. I’m not against an audience on occasion, but punishment? Oh, I am definitely not letting that comment drop. What does Orthia think a punishment is? Is this a part of her need to hear me beg?
“Yes, Captain,” I say before I can think harder on it.
I hand Orthia back her knife and watch her slip it into a sheath in her long, over-the-knee boots. I can’t take my eyes off her legs now that I can see them in the light with complete focus. She has never worn such revealing clothes before. Sure, her shirt is still buttoned all the way to the stop, but it’s thin. I can see the sports bra she has on underneath.
If I think about those trousers again, I am going to have to peel them off her muscular thighs in whatever alley she is going to drag us into.
During her performances on the ship, she wears that corset belt, but always with a heavy overcoat. Even on the days when the sun beats against the dark wood of the ship, she doesn’t take that teal thing off. But this look? This is the look of a pirate queen, a woman who will ruin any man who so much as glances in her direction.
It’s a wet dream.
“The door, Delphini.”
She doesn’t sound annoyed that I am gawking at her. I take that for the win that it is and open up the door to the bathroom. There is a small queue of people waiting outside, but none of them look like staff. I put on an apologetic smile and shoo away any concern for ‘my friend’.
“She fell and hit her face. We’re gonna get some ice from the kitchen.” Which I hope to fucking god is the direction Orthia is leading us in, because like fuck do I know where that is.
My plan was to coerce Audrey out of the club and make her pay for a taxi to the docks. She’s high enough on coke to stay awake, but drunk enough not to fight me too hard. I don’t know if this is a better option yet, but I am not the one with experience in premeditated murder.
Orthia is, so I’m following her lead.
I squeeze in front of her to pull open the door for her. Not a single head looks twice at us as we walk through the kitchen. Orthia moves around the stainless-steel square like she owns the place. I follow behind her and keep my focus firmly on the floor until she is at another door. As she waits for me, she shuffles Audrey on her shoulder. As she groans and rolls her bloody head to the side, Orthia raises her eyebrows at the door. I have to shove the door to get it to open, but when I do, light floods the alley and we are off into the night. The heavy door slams closed with such a clank I jump and look around. We are utterly alone out here unless you count the rats.
“Holy shit,” I whisper. “That really worked.”
“Why are you whispering?” Orthia swings around like the woman in her arm isn’t more than a small purse.
She drops Audrey next to the dumpster and looks at me. The faint light from behind casts her in shadows and my brain is jumping from one fantasy to the next because Orthia now looks like a 90s vampire wet dream.
Fuck.
One dance, one little fix of a soft touch from her, and I am falling apart at the seams. I can barely stand in the same room with her without craving her warmth, without desperately trying to hold myself to any standard of decorum after she told me I’d have to beg for her to touch me again. It’s no surprise all it takes is a little bump and grind for me to ruin a perfect pair of panties. I am ready to burst into flames at the next brush of her against my skin. I crave it. I need it like I need air in my lungs.
It’s now or never to have this conversation. It’s the worst time I can think of, but I am not sure I will be able to keep my hands off her long enough once we get back to the ship.
“Do you want to have sex with me?” I blurt out.
Have I had multiple conversations with partners in the past about needs, wants, limits? Absolutely. Are any of these skills transferring over right now? No.
“Obviously, Delphini.”
Audrey groans, but doesn’t do much else. I tear my eyes away from Orthia to look at her, but she still passed out.
“At what point should we be concerned about that?” I point down at her.
“We can give her a few more minutes.” Orthia crosses her arms over her chest and the billowy fabric makes her shoulders look even broader, more tempting. “Now, do you want to have sex with me?”
“Of course I do. I’ve wanted you to fuck me or for you to let me fuck you since day one. Even after you threw me in a fucking prison cell.”
We are gravitating closer together. I don’t know at what point during that small confession it started, but we don’t stop until we are nearly chest to forearms. The storm that surrounds her engulfs me, too. Like some kind of whirlwind that is pulling us closer and closer. I look down at Orthia and there is that hunger in her eyes, just like the night in the training room.
“Ground rules?” She asks the question like we are about to have a fight and not like we are discussing bedroom preferences.
“I like being submissive for sex only,” I say, taking a step closer to her until our shoes nearly touch. “My preferred safe word system is traffic lights. I don’t like being gagged unless I’m drowning in pussy.”
“I know you want to be praised, but do you want to be my good girl or my pretty slut?”
