Page 13 of Paid to the Pirate

Inside, my thoughts ran in all directions, but outside, I felt limp, weak. The belting and… whatever had just happened had stolen all my energy.

Chapter 8

Colt

I’d seen men the size of mountains break down and beg for mercy. I’d seen knaves I’d thought bore no honor sacrifice themselves for the right cause. I’d seen unimaginable wonders deep inland that no one would believe back in England.

But nothing mystified me more than the wanton writhing of Charlotte, bent over my bed and grinding herself to release.

I snapped my dry mouth shut. The girl I knew before never…

I narrowed my eyes.

Had someone shown her pleasure? That skinny boy called Daniel?

Red threatened the edges of my vision.

But no, astoundingly, she’dcalled for helpat the height of it. As if the poor thing couldn’t understand what was happening. As if it were the first time.

Her first climax. Brought on by my belt.

Unless it too was an act?

“Please,” she breathed, once her convulsions ceased, almost too low for me to hear. “No more.”

Kneeling, I brought my face to her cunt and heard her shamed squeak above. My eyes widened. Soaked.Like a whore,came the enticing thought.My whore.

The erection I’d had since closing the door to my cabin now strained painfully against my breeches.

Was she playing me false somehow?

I moved up the bed, bringing my face to hers. Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut. Even in the dim light, I could see pleasure and mortification flush her face.

“Open your eyes,” I ordered, soft, but firm. When she didn’t move, I added, “Unless you want to repeat your punishment.”

Her eyes flew open. Terrified, tear-filled.Guileless.

I stumbled backward as if I’d been struck.

If this was an act, it was her greatest yet. No.No,she’d climaxed against the edge of my bed. The evidence was plain. I ran a hand down my face.Jesus.

Charlotte didn’t dare move. Her slip remained bunched at her hips. Her hair hung in disarray down her back. Her wet cunt spread before me, ready, inviting. A ploy?

Backing up, I palmed my erection, gritting my teeth. Nothing would stop me from shedding the cumbersome breeches and burying myself to the hilt in her sopping cunt right now.

What would she feel like? Taste like?

I grew lightheaded -- the idea of lapping my tongue against her slick folds and hearing her moans actually made me dizzy.

Which was probably her intent. Bloody wench. Slippery little liar.

I adjusted my throbbing cock, refusing to even relieve the agony with my own hand. She’d hear it. Know what I was doing right behind her. Know I’d played right into her plan.My, how she’d grown into a temptress these past two years.

Damn the bitch. She could spend the night in the brig. She could spend every night there. I’d refuse to even acknowledge… whatever that lust-filled display was supposed to be. She thought to trick me? I’d simply refuse to even speak on it. By now, the crew certainly heard her punishment.

A rise of jealousy flared in my chest.If they heard what she just did, I’ll cut off all their ears.And their tongues, so they can never speak of it.

Damn them all. And damn her too.

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