Bound by the Buccaneer (10 page)

“What’s the matter? Lost your voice?”

“No, sir,” she gulped.

Waggling his brow he winked at her as he towered over her, candle poised just above her stomach. “That’s alright. Your face tells me all I need to know.”

She watched as the first droplet crashed against the pale, sensitive skin of her belly. The liquid fire burned. She winced and prepared for the next one.

In an unexpected but welcome move, Gaston rubbed the tip of his cock around the opening to her pussy. Her hips gyrated, wanting him inside her again. His eyes darkened with desire as he took in the picture of his helpless, wanton captive beneath him.

“Who do you belong to wench?” he asked, anger in his voice.

Another droplet of scalding hot wax splashed onto her breast, and she found herself lifting her chest searching for the next one. Something in the back of her mind told her it was insane to want more of this treatment, but she squelched the intrusive voice and gave in to her cravings.

“You, master. I belong to you,” she answered. It aroused her to think of herself as his. His property. His woman to do with as he chose. She realized there was nothing he loved better than dominating her, and she drew in a ragged breath. Exhaling, she realized there was nothing she loved better than allowing him to.

Gaston dripped more wax upon her chest, and then teased her by trailing the fire across her torso all the way below her naval. Frederica wriggled in her bindings and threw her head from side to side, enduring both the pain of the wax and the intense longing to have him sheathed inside her once again. Whimpers of varying decibels sprang from her throat. No longer able to control the sounds she made, she’d been reduced to an animalistic state, no longer caring about anything, completely present in that moment, the sensations felt by her body occupying her total consciousness.

“And you will do only as I command?” Gaston’s voice nudged her out of her trance-like state and back to her surroundings.

Unsure what he was referring to she answered dutifully, “Yes, master.”

The next hot drip landed on her labia and had her growling and thrashing. By the time he dribbled wax onto her clit her libido was on fire. She thrashed and growled in her bindings as each drop of scalding wax splashed onto her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to endure the intensity of every sensation.

In the darkness she felt Gaston plunge into her. His cock felt as hard as steel as it invaded her warm, pulsating pussy. Every part of her seemed to be on fire and she heard her voice howling into the night, though it sounded like it belonged to someone else.

Scathing hot drops fell onto her erect nipples as he slid deep inside her. The tension within her reached its boiling point, and her body began to tremble. Like a volcano whose slow buildup has been long and rumbling, when the dam burst from her molten core the nerve endings at the center of her sex exploded. Excruciating ecstasy radiated from her center all the way into her extremities, shaking her and filling her with love for the man who had orchestrated such an earth-shattering crescendo.

“You are mine, Frederica. Mine,” he growled into her ear. “And I will do everything in my power to make certain no other man will ever be able please you the way I do,” he said ferociously.

“Only you, master. No one could do that to me except you.” She wanted to stroke his face, but her arms were restrained.

He set down the candle on the nearby table and used both hands on her now. One hand clamped down on her shoulder and used it for leverage to pump into the depths of her cunt. With as much force as he’d ever used, he fucked her hard with quick, staccato strokes. Beads of sweat pearled off his brow and onto her chest, feeling significantly cooler than the wax that had dribbled on her moments ago. He crushed his mouth to hers and his tongue possessed her as frenetically as his cock did until finally, he found his release inside her and stilled, the only sound in the room was that of their labored breathing.

Spent, Gaston wearily untied her from her bindings before collapsing onto the bed next to her. He threw an arm across her and within a minute was snoring.

Frederica hugged him to her and wondered what her friends and family would have thought if they’d ever known what she did behind closed doors. What she allowed Gaston, or even those other men, to do to her.

But that part of her life, the past, faded more and more every day. It took effort to recall that part of her life, the part that included polite society and rules about what was expected of a girl of her standing. Sometimes, it seemed her old life threatened to disappear altogether, its tenuous existence in her mind flickered like Gaston’s candle. It would be so easy to extinguish altogether.

Her memories of her beloved mother, father, and her friend Cassandra were the only reasons for holding onto the past. The life she had with Gaston—sailing the open seas, searching for the next adventure, capturing the next treasure haul—that was the life for her.

For her there was nothing like the feel of the wind whipping against her cheeks and hearing the lookout shout there was another ship ahead. She was addicted to the rush she got from it. Now that she was a pirate, she couldn’t imagine a different sort of life. The very notion of tending the home and hearth for a husband and a band of dependent brats set her teeth on edge.

And now she had gotten Gaston back in their bed. With a sigh she drifted off to sleep with the hope he would stay there, and that his black moods would be a thing of the past.

Chapter Twelve

The next morning Gaston found Hatch feeding the scrawny creature who appeared to be the newest member of the crew.

“Get rid of that flea-ridden beast!” Gaston said, uncharitably.

Hatch shook his head. “The crew won’t like that, Capt’n. Neither will missy.”

Drawing himself up to his full height Gaston stood chest to chest with the giant. “That is of no consequence to me. I forbade her from bringing that cat aboard and she disobeyed me.” His temper was riled, and even to his own self he seemed to live in a constant state of malcontent these days.

“I brought him on board, Capt’n,” Hatch said, folding his arms across his chest daring Gaston to rebuke him.

This surprised Gaston. “What? Why would you do that?”

While they were talking, the cat had scampered down along the deck, and now he was playing with some of the crew members several feet away.

“Missy. She was lonely. I don’t like to see her frowning, and that’s all you’ve made her do since we’ve been here.”

Flustered, Gaston tried to object. “That is none of your concern. Freddie is fine.” With a sigh he declared, “She appears to be doing better than the rest of us, actually.”

Hatch shook his head. “You blame missy for your decision. Missy only did as you asked.”

Gaston felt the heat rise in his face. He knew Hatch spoke the truth. That was the problem. He’d instigated the situation and now living with the consequences was proving difficult.

All had gone according to plan. He’d asked Frederica to appease the captains of the other ships and she’d agreed because he’d asked her to. Now Appling, Chatham, and Pugwash were happy and their plans to sail together were moving ahead. The deal was sealed as it were, and not by a handshake, but by the carnal knowledge of Frederica. His Frederica. He balled his fists at the thought.

“I am aware of that,” he spat.

Tired of the giant’s newfound wisdom, he marched toward the other end of the ship to retrieve that blasted feline. He’d remove it. At least that was something he could do.

Two of the men were playing with the bundle of fur, rolling a ball back and forth for it. The cat chased the ball, batting it between its paws, and the men were in stitches.

Gaston shook his head in disgust. Grown men being entertained by a cat. “That thing has to go,” he told them.

“Old Bones ‘ere?” Tagbor asked. “C’mon Capt’n. He’s a regular mate now. ‘e’ll keep Slash company below deck chasin’ them rats.”

“Ya, c’mon Capt’n. ‘e’s part of the crew now.” Several more men cheered.

Disgusted, Gaston turned on his heel and walked away. Apparently he’d been wrong. Nothing remained under his command.

Chapter Thirteen

Three days later, the crews of the
Ocean’s Knave
, the
Volusia,
the
Independence
, and the
Greed of Hades
loaded supplies onto their respective ships, ran their last tests, and handled the last repairs. They would be pulling up anchor tomorrow. Gaston’s mood remained wretched and Frederica hoped that heading out to sea would cure him of his melancholy.

Amidst all the hustle and bustle on the ship, Captain Miles Appling climbed down the side of the
Ocean’s Knave
into a waiting boat. She had not seen him since their tryst, and it surprised her that she didn’t feel in the least bit awkward in seeing him again. Frederica waved and called to him.

Miles returned a gallant wave and shouted up to her, “Good morning Miss Beauchamp, how are you? Well, I trust.”

She smiled. “Yes, I am well, and yourself?”

He nodded. “It’s a glorious day. How would you like a lesson in swordsmanship this afternoon? That is, if you are not otherwise occupied.”

Frederica was at loose ends while the crew packed up, and she always seized upon the opportunity to improve her parrying skills. “I’d love that.”

They decided on a time and a few hours later she went ashore and met him on the beach. He greeted her with a friendly embrace, and suggested they take off their boots to prevent them from filling with sand, and the lesson began. Perfect, she preferred feeling the sand sift between her toes anyway.

From the start it was clear Miles was serious about instructing her, and his offer was not a ploy to be alone with her. He started by pointing out that while she was an above average with a cutlass, she lacked the upper body strength of most men and that put her at a disadvantage against most opponents. He showed her how she could use her smaller size and quickness to gain an advantage.

The sun beat down on them as Frederica performed the exercises Miles asked of her. After an hour she was sweating, parched and panting for a break. Miles offered her some water from his cask and they sat down on the sand to rest.

“Are you looking forward to our voyage?” he asked, taking a drink of water.

Frederica shrugged.

“I thought you would be more excited to go to Port Royale. Have you ever been?” he asked.

“I have not, and yes, I should like to visit the infamous city.”

“And the governor? Are you acquainted with him?”

“No, I suppose it will be a pleasure to meet such an illustrious man.”

“Forgive me, but I had expected a woman of your considerable enthusiasm to be more animated at the prospect of this journey.”

Frederica leaned over and inspected a shell. Finding it to her liking she pocketed it.

She took a deep breath and exhaled. “My apologies, Captain. I find my mind is occupied with other matters.”

“Would it be presumptuous of me to inquire as to what matters?” he asked.

“No, in fact it is rather kind of you to inquire.”

“It has been awhile since I’ve had cause to ask a woman about her thoughts, her troubles…” his voice trailed off.

He picked up a piece of sea bark and tossed it into the ocean. The waves rolled in, lapping at their bare feet. Frederica lifted her skirts, but the hem was already damp. Miles had rolled up his breeches, and they burrowed their toes in the wet sand.

“Is there, was there, a Mrs. Appling?” she asked and realized she did not know his marital status. She should have inquired, but most pirates were single or widowed so she’d just assumed he was. Their occupation was so incompatible with family life that it had not occurred to her he might have been otherwise committed. Not that marital vows stopped men from straying…

He looked up abruptly, “No. No Mrs. Appling. Though there was almost one once.”

“Why Miles Appling! You must tell me.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Tell me about the girl who got away,” she teased.

He looked at her with a raised brow. “Interesting you would choose to state it that way, for that’s exactly what happened.”

“What?”

“I lost her,” he said sighing deeply.

“How?”

“You don’t want to hear the whole story,” he said making a ball with a handful of wet sand. “Anyway, I was asking about you.”

“We’ll talk about me later. First you must tell me about this girl who ran away.” Normally she wouldn’t pry, but it felt like she and Miles had been friends for years.

“There’s not much to tell. She was a maid who worked for my father. When he discovered our relationship he sent her away, told me he’d given her the choice between me or a sack of gold coins, and she chose the coins. Something never sat right with me about the story. I didn’t believe him, in my heart I knew better. I tried to track her down but had no luck. To get away from my father, I joined the Navy and served with them for several years.”

“Oh Miles, that is terrible,” Frederica said, her hand involuntarily covered her heart.

He nodded. “Several years ago I received word that she had been seen in Nassau working as a servant. Leave it to my father to send her to the other side of the ocean. Such a bastard. That’s why I left the service and began privateering, to find her.”

“And did you?”

“No, not yet, but I will never give up.” His mournful eyes were tinged with hope. “I will search every corner of the earth.”

Frederica’s heart lurched. “How romantic. What is her name, this lady you love so desperately?”

“Josephine.” The corners of his mouth turned up as it formed the word.

“Tell me about her. What is she like?” Frederica asked, drawing a heart in the sand with her finger.

“Blonde. Kind. Beautiful. Spirited.” He laughed, “Not unlike yourself.”

“Me?” she crinkled her nose.

“Yes, you. How many other female pirates do you know?”